An elderly man entered a small barbershop that proudly called itself a beauty salon. He was dressed simply, without any extravagance, and looked somewhat distant — not because of neglect or poverty, but rather as if his eyes held an inner world full of contemplation.
A friendly but cautious smile played across his face. The man wanted a regular haircut.
The stylist, named Margarita, kindly offered him a seat in an empty chair and asked how exactly he wanted his hair cut. But at that moment, one of the salon’s most valued clients — Igor Andreyevich — came in.
This man was known for his demanding nature and tendency to control everything, yet he remained the most generous visitor. Despite the modest location of the salon in a quiet neighborhood, clients like him were there — and they were cherished.
Igor was invited to sit next to the elderly man, but he gestured to Margarita and pulled her aside. A tightly clenched banknote appeared in her hand.
“Make sure he leaves. I don’t want to sit next to that old man.”
Rita was surprised:
“But I haven’t finished his haircut yet. How can I just ask a customer to leave? He’s a client too. That can’t happen.”
“What do you mean ‘just a client’? You’re putting me on the same level as some tramp?” the businessman snapped indignantly.
“Rita, what are you doing? Do you want to lose your job?” whispered a colleague. “Don’t mess with him!”
“I’m not doing anything wrong,” she replied. “Just working. The client is waiting.”
The businessman was stunned by her defiance but was not ready to back down. However, what happened next shocked everyone.
The elderly man suddenly turned to Igor Andreyevich. His voice was quiet but filled with an invisible power:
“You have one minute.”
The words sounded almost joking, yet they carried a confidence that silenced even the most talkative stylists.
The businessman snorted, insisting on his point. But barely had that minute passed when the old man snapped his fingers — and Igor Andreyevich suddenly fell silent.
The elderly man stepped closer, looked the businessman in the eyes, pulled from a worn wallet the exact sum that Igor had offered Rita to expel the client, and placed the money in his hand:
“Now you will leave. You won’t come back here. And you will never let anyone humiliate you — neither the staff nor the customers.”
Igor silently stood up, as if hypnotized, and left the salon. The elderly man returned to his chair, where Margarita, still recovering, continued his haircut.
When he paid, thanked, and slowly left the salon, only then did the employees and clients begin to discuss what had happened.
“He’s a sorcerer! Honestly, a sorcerer!”
“Maybe a psychic? There are plenty these days. Too bad we didn’t talk to him properly. Who knows, maybe he could have taught us something!”
Only the senior stylist, nicknamed “Tigralva” — Tamara Lvovna — shook her head:
“I don’t know if he’s a sorcerer or not. But Tigralvna will definitely be unhappy. Her favorite client is practically lost now.”
Meanwhile, the “old man,” whom everyone had simply called a strange visitor, was no mystic. He was Pyotr Fyodorovich — a former psychiatrist who had recently retired. He was well known among professionals, possessed deep knowledge, and was skilled in hypnosis. Life, however, had arranged things so that continuing to work was impossible.
His son, who had caused many troubles since childhood, had gone to court, then to a penal colony… and died before release. For Pyotr Fyodorovich, this was a blow. His reputation suffered, his health deteriorated. His wife, Natalia Dmitrievna, after the tragedy, fell seriously ill and was hospitalized.
No one in the salon knew this. But everyone knew that Igor Andreyevich disappeared, leaving behind only confusion and a strange aftertaste.
As for Igor himself, he did not understand what had happened to him. His driver noticed a change: the boss had become quieter, spoke softly, even began using “please” and “thank you,” things that had never happened before. But the driver didn’t dare ask.
At the office, Igor Andreyevich found the usual hustle and bustle. Preparations for another inspection were underway, but he didn’t care. He was not afraid for his reputation — he knew how to buy protection where needed.
However, thoughts of the old man in the barbershop kept returning. He felt something had happened to him. Not an illness, not weakness — something deeper. Something inexplicable.
At home, joy awaited him: his young wife, Anya, was pregnant. Long-awaited news. After years of unsuccessful attempts, they had turned to doctors, and here was the miracle.
But on the very day they learned about the baby, Igor met Veronika. At first, he saw her as just a fling, a way to distract from family routine. But this meeting was not so accidental. Veronika wanted more — and made this clear repeatedly.
Igor immediately said:
“No way, sorry. My wife is pregnant. There can be nothing between us.”
Veronika sulked, hinting their relationship was pointless, but quickly understood she couldn’t scare him that way. She quieted down, while Igor became even more careful to hide the affair from Anya.
However, female intuition or just gossip eventually reached her — Anya became suspicious, cried often, lost peace of mind. One day she was hospitalized for pregnancy maintenance. It was at that moment, when Igor received a call from the clinic about complications threatening the baby’s health, that the office was undergoing an inspection.
The businessman dropped everything and rushed to his wife, trying to forget the strange meeting at the barbershop. But he couldn’t completely erase it from his mind. Especially after one of the stylists recorded the incident on her phone and posted it online. It seemed harmless — if not for Anya. Seeing the video, she became even more upset.
“Who is that? Why did he say that to you? What’s going on?” she sobbed.
“Just some strange old man,” Igor tried to calm her. “Don’t pay attention, it’s nonsense. I almost forgot about it.”
But Anya was too sensitive and trusting to just forgive. Thoughts of what happened haunted her.
After long persuasion and promises to come home, Igor finally left, but instead of going home, decided to distract himself. Hoping for rest in the arms of his lover, he went to Veronika and told her about all the day’s events.
“Poor you…” she said, hugging him. “You’re so strong, you’ll get through this. The main thing is we’re together.”
“Really?” he asked distractedly.
“Really,” Veronika replied firmly, though she knew perfectly well that as long as Anya carried his child, they couldn’t be officially together. Yet secretly she hoped the pregnancy would end in miscarriage — then nothing would stop them from starting a family.
Meanwhile, the story at the salon was gaining traction on social networks. People wondered who this mysterious man was who managed to silence such a powerful person. Igor Andreyevich himself was uncomfortable with the rumors. He didn’t understand what had happened or why he had lost control of himself. To find out, he hired a private detective.
Meanwhile, Pyotr Fyodorovich had no idea he had become the hero of an internet story. He was worried about something else — his wife’s condition. She needed urgent surgery that wasn’t free. And he had no money. He was pacing between the hospital and home like on needles.
One day, returning from the doctor, he met Rita. The girl had long wanted to talk.
“Do you remember me? My name is Rita. I work in your barbershop.”
“Of course, I recognize you, girl,” Pyotr Fyodorovich smiled. “So, did that man bother you anymore?”
“No, he hasn’t appeared again. But I wanted to ask… How did you manage that?”
The old doctor did not hide anything. He told who he was, how he worked as a psychiatrist, mastered hypnosis techniques, and influenced Igor. He also shared his worries — about his wife’s illness, the inability to pay for treatment.
Rita looked at him sympathetically:
“So you live alone? No one to take care of you?”
“I’m not a child,” he smiled softly. “Still… Maybe you could come over? I’ll make lunch. I live alone too. Cooking out of habit — someone has to care.”
Pyotr agreed. After enjoying lunch, he admitted he hadn’t eaten anything hot for a long time. Rita promised to come more often, even to bake pies and take them to his wife in the hospital.
“Thank you, dear,” he said emotionally.
Meanwhile, Igor Andreyevich was receiving shocking information from the detective.
“Have you always had the surname Kolisov?” the detective asked. “Before your stepfather, I was Morozov. Then mom remarried, and he adopted me. The patronymic changed too. What does this have to do with anything?”
The detective handed over a document:
“The person you’re interested in… may be your biological father.”
Igor paled.
“What?! Are you crazy? I’ve never seen my father!”
The investigator showed a birth certificate. It read: Morozov Igor Petrovich.
“That’s all I can tell you. The rest is up to you.”
This news shocked Igor. As a child, he only knew his mother raised him alone, and questions about his father were always dodged. When he started school, a new “dad” appeared — the stepfather who took him under his care. Over time, Igor got used to the new surname, the new name. The past faded into the background.
He recalled how his mother, tired of questions, once said:
“What father? There is no one. We’re fine without them.”
But now things were different. Now he knew his father’s name. Now he understood that he was alive. And most incredibly — they had already met.
What to do with this knowledge? Approach him? Confess? Ask for forgiveness? Thoughts raced, but no answers came.
And Pyotr Fyodorovich had no idea his son was alive. For him, the only family left was Natalia Dmitrievna. But in his life appeared Rita, who became like a daughter to him. She helped, supported, cooked, took food to his wife in the hospital, and did not let the old doctor lose hope.
Soon problems began for Rita herself. Because of the video on the internet, clients started coming to the salon less often. One day, Tamara Lvovna — the salon owner — called her in.
“Well, Rita? Planning to ruin me?” she started coldly. “If so, you chose the right tactic.”
“Sorry, Tamara Lvovna, but I didn’t do anything wrong,” Rita tried to defend herself. “You work well, that’s true. But because of your ‘hero,’ Igor Andreyevich stopped coming — our most valuable client. Others also come less often. Attendance dropped.”
Rita lowered her eyes. She knew she had done the right thing. But she also understood she might have let down her colleagues. Though she sincerely believed sometimes truth is more important than profit.
“But what does that have to do with me?” Margarita justified herself. “I couldn’t just kick out an old man just because someone didn’t like him.”
Tamara Lvovna looked at her coldly:
“I’m not going to turn my salon into some joint for bums and pensioners. I need to preserve the establishment’s reputation. You’re fired.”
Rita did not argue. She understood: there would always be work. But the boss, apparently, did not intend to stop there. Rumors spread by her caused refusals in other salons.
When Pyotr Fyodorovich noticed the girl had become sad, he asked what was wrong. Hearing the truth, he frowned.
“It’s all because of me… I have to deal with this. I’ll go to your former boss myself and talk.”
“No need!” Rita was frightened. “I don’t know what methods you use, but better not get involved. I’ll find another place. Don’t worry about me.”
Meanwhile, Igor Andreyevich continued to torment himself with his own thoughts. One day, he suddenly stopped and thought:
“How easily I insulted a person. But asking for forgiveness feels like a stone on my heart. What’s wrong with me? No, now I must fix my mistake. Especially since he’s my father.”
He found Pyotr Fyodorovich, took a deep breath, and said:
“Forgive me. For everything. For how I behaved, for how I treated you that day. Here, look.”
Igor handed him documents confirming their relationship. Pyotr Fyodorovich held them for a long time, then slowly said:
“I never thought I’d live to see this day. I thought I’d go to the grave alone. But it turns out I have a son… It’s a pity you found out about me at such a time.”
“What time?” Igor replied. “The main thing is we met. And I hope you forgive me for everything.”
“I will, of course. Only one thought worries me… Because of our meeting, a good person suffered — Margarita.”
“I won’t allow that,” the businessman said decisively. “Such a girl shouldn’t suffer because of me.”
He contacted the former salon owner, arranged to buy the premises, and officially transferred it to Rita. For him, it was a way to make amends. For her, a chance to start a new life.
Father and son began spending a lot of time together. They told each other about the lost years, trying to make up for the past. Learning about Natalia Dmitrievna’s illness and her need for expensive surgery, Igor immediately took responsibility.
“But she’s not your blood relative…” the old doctor began cautiously.
“And what does that change?” Igor replied gently. “She’s important to you — that means she’s important to me too. If I can help, why not?”
He paid for the treatment in full without hesitation.
Pyotr Fyodorovich also decided not to remain indebted. Learning that Anya’s pregnancy was at risk, he offered his help.
“It seems it’s not the body, but the soul of your wife. Anxiety, stress, fear… I’m a psychiatrist. Let me talk to her. Maybe I can ease her condition a bit.”
“Do you really think that will help?”
“I’m sure. But after that, it’s up to you. Protecting the family is your duty.”
After several sessions, Anya became calmer, her fears began to retreat. The crisis passed.
But not everyone was happy with these changes. Veronika, Igor’s mistress, watched the developments with growing anxiety. Her plans were falling apart. She already imagined herself as the wife of a successful man. But now Igor was more and more preoccupied with himself and eventually stopped answering her calls altogether.
She started questioning, found out everything about the visit to the barbershop, about the strange old man, and even that this man turned out to be his real father.
“You’re so trusting,” she said when they met. “Don’t you realize it’s all staged? That old man is a fraud. He just took advantage of the situation to gain profit. And that hairdresser is his accomplice.”
These words did not help. On the contrary, they pushed Igor away completely. He no longer wanted lies and intrigues. He wanted family, peace, love.
He politely said goodbye to Veronika, leaving her the right to believe whatever she wanted, as long as she didn’t interfere with his life.
Margarita sincerely rejoiced for the new friends. Becoming the salon’s owner, she was busy to the brim but still found time for Pyotr Fyodorovich and his son. Especially often she visited Natalia Dmitrievna, who gradually became like family.
True, their clinic visits had another reason — an acquaintance with one of the nurses, which soon grew into a serious relationship. When Natalia Dmitrievna was discharged, Rita announced she was going to get married.
Anya safely carried and gave birth to twins. Margarita was invited to the christening — though formally not family, in the family she was considered one of their own.
Holding his sons in his arms, Igor promised himself: never again to repeat the mistakes of the past. And he kept that promise.
Sometimes fate brings us together with people who change our entire lives. One chance meeting in a barbershop turned the fates of many people upside down. Father and son, lost years, pain, forgiveness, and new bonds — all this became possible thanks to one small, seemingly insignificant moment.
And maybe in your life, too, there is that very person — the one worth finding, forgiving, or simply hearing. Don’t miss your chance.
