Lydia was in a hurry to get home. She had just stepped out of the house, heading to work, when she had to return — today was an open lesson at school, and she had forgotten the posters prepared for the class.
High-ranking guests rarely visited the rural school. But today the deputy governor was coming, and the principal, Fyodor Efimovich, intended to ask for new computers. To make an impression, the computer science teacher, Lydia Mikhailovna, had to conduct an open lesson and show that the village school kept up with modern standards.
With these thoughts, Lida Tabuntsova approached the gate, entered the yard, took a broom, and began brushing the snow off her shoes. At that moment, she heard a conversation inside the house and froze, listening closely. It was her husband Boris and his mother — 54-year-old Lyudmila Andreyevna:
— We need to rent out her city apartment, son. You’ll give me the money. That way, we’ll save up a dowry for the baby. Lida won’t notice, and the family budget will stay intact.
— Where are the keys? — Boris asked quietly.
— They’re in the green box in the drawer. She never touches them. Why would she? She says she’ll leave her apartment to the child. Which child? She should think with her head!
— I don’t know, Mom… This is kind of unfair. Lida isn’t guilty of anything. I’ve already cheated on her, and now you want to use her property for another woman’s child?
Lydia stood behind the door, holding her hands over her mouth to keep from sobbing. She had long suspected her husband of infidelity, but this was the first time she had heard everything with her own ears. They had been married for five years; their long-awaited child had never been born — there were reasons. Now she was learning that Boris was going to have a son by another woman. Who was this woman? Why had her mother-in-law decided to manage the apartment without her consent? There were many questions and no answers. Lida kept listening.
— What do you mean “wrong”?! — Lyudmila raised her voice. — What good is there in how she treats you? Cold, indifferent. No tenderness, no care. She can’t have children. She should have been kicked out long ago. Just not now.
Boris sighed but remained silent. His mother continued:
— Let’s wait until the baby is born. Then Katya will divorce Ivan, and you’ll get a divorce too. Meanwhile, a year will pass. We’ll rent out her city apartment with that money. The child needs funds, let the apartment work. Besides, she lives with us. Let the rest be for our benefit.
Suddenly Lydia’s phone rang. She flinched but quickly composed herself: she slammed the door, cleared her throat, and said loudly:
— What a cold snap outside!
Then she entered the room and smiled:
— I forgot the posters. I’m late, the open lesson is about to start.
— I’m making sandwiches for Borya, — her mother-in-law answered cheerfully. — Maybe I’ll bring you something too? You haven’t even had breakfast, dear?
Lida noticed how kindly Lyudmila’s voice sounded, though a minute ago it had been full of anger. Boris stood nearby, forcing a smile.
The woman took her things, hugged her husband, smiled, and ran outside. The cold immediately hit her face, but inside she was burning. She took off her hat, unbuttoned her coat, and headed toward the school.
Her mother-in-law’s words echoed in her mind: “Which child? She should think with her head,” “She can’t have children. She should be thrown out.”
Lida scooped a handful of snow, wiped her face and neck. Snow seeped under her sweater, but she didn’t feel the cold.
The day seemed endless. After the lesson, everyone thanked Lydia, saying she did well. The deputy governor even said kind words about her professional skills. But the woman remembered nothing — her thoughts were far away.
At night, she was seized by fever and delirium. Her mother-in-law got scared and called an ambulance. Boris was not at home.
Lida woke up in a hospital ward. She wanted to sit up, but her head spun. She lay trying to understand: did she really hear that conversation, or was it a dream?
A nurse passed by, put in a drip, and left. Lida wanted to ask what was wrong, but couldn’t utter a word. Then she fell asleep again. She dreamed of her father, mother, and family. They were driving to the sea by car. But instead of water, the girl saw a golden sea of wheat. Her father said, “Here it is, Lidyuska — our sea.” The woman woke with a hot tear on her cheek.
Outside the window, the tops of fir trees were covered in snow. Images of childhood appeared before her eyes: skiing with her dad, stories about her grandfather — chairman of the collective farm, and her grandmother — a labor hero. Lydia had always been proud of her family. Her dad often repeated: “You must be a worthy descendant of such people,” and the girl tried.
The Osokin family house was the most beautiful in the village. It was built together — father and grandfather. Her mother worked as a doctor, leaving for work every morning, and Lydia was looked after by the neighbor Tatiana Makarovna. She was raising her own son Vanya but gladly took care of Lida. Anastasia and Tatiana became friends, almost sisters.
Opposite lived Lyudmila Tabuntsova — an envious and spiteful woman. She had no husband, only a small son Boris and her mother Maria Antonovna. Lyudmila hated others’ success, especially the Osokins and Belousovs. When neighbors got help with repairs, she cried with jealousy.
— It’s all just for them! The fence, the bathhouse… I’ll show them! — she yelled at her mother.
— Calm down, Lyudka, — the old woman tried to soothe her. — Don’t bring trouble on yourself.
Anastasia and Tatiana didn’t suspect the neighbor’s hatred. They invited her to the bathhouse, to celebrations, but Lyudmila always refused, making excuses.
Meanwhile, the desire to “prove” something to others became an obsession. Lyudmila changed suitors, trying to marry, but no one wanted to tie their life to her. She looked for someone to blame everywhere — mother, son, anyone but herself.
— Of course, who will marry me with a child on my neck? — Lyudmila angrily said, nodding at her son.
Maria Antonovna scolded her daughter:
— What are you saying, Lyudka? That’s your own son, your blood!
— Blood? — the woman snorted. — How much blood will he drain from me in his life? Why did I even give birth to him? If I were free — I’d leave to earn money, maybe get married. Now he hangs like a stone on my neck.
— Bah on you! — the old woman got angry. — It’s good that Borya doesn’t hear you. They don’t marry you because you’re too clingy. You stick to people like a remora fish. You suffocate with your care, smother with attention. Men just run away without looking back. Forgive me, daughter, but should a mother say such things to you?
— We’ll see, — Lyudmila was offended. — I’ll go to the city, earn a lot of money, build myself a fence, porch, and roof better than Nastya’s and Tanya’s. The whole village will envy me. And I’ll find a husband like Borya, so everyone will be amazed.
— Maybe you really should leave, — sighed her mother. — I’ll manage with the grandson. I have strength, health still holds. And maybe you will find your destiny.
That’s how they decided. In September 2004, thirty-four-year-old Lyudmila Andreyevna Tabuntsova bought a ticket to Moscow and went to the capital hoping to find work and personal happiness.
The capital was not eager to greet her with open arms. She looked for work for a long time. Neither cleaning jobs, nor nursing, nor factory work suited her — too hard. She needed a position where she could always be visible, to attract men’s attention.
Time passed. A friend with whom Lyudmila temporarily lived hinted it was time to move on. But finally, she got lucky — the dormitory manager, Aunt Zoya, found her a job as a concierge in an elite house. The woman was accepted immediately: she was neat, well-groomed, sociable. They even gave her a corner in the utility room for living.
Lyudmila was not upset about the lack of windows and modest furnishings — a sofa, table, wardrobe. She was temporary, only until she found a husband. Her self-confidence was huge. Men looked at her with interest. Maybe she would seduce an actor or scientist.
Life spun. Moscow captivated her. She almost forgot about her son — only occasionally calling and sending packages with sweets. Her mother often complained:
— When will you come home? Boris might not even remember what you look like.
— It’s okay, I’ll send photos, — Lyudmila laughed.
— You shameless daughter. Remember: there is a time to cast stones and a time to gather them. You will answer for your attitude to your son sooner or later.
— You only nag, Mom. What are you always croaking about? I send money? I do. Send packages? I do. Call? I do. So everything is fine. I work for you. I need little — all for Borya and you.
But Lyudmila did not tell the whole truth. No one forbade her to take vacations at work. It was just that she met a man.
His name was Viktor Arnoldovich Shpun. He was fifteen years older but well-off: a four-room apartment in Moscow, a dacha, a car. He worked as an architect. Most importantly — he was single, no children.
Lyudmila dreamed of marriage and tried to be the perfect hostess and partner. To avoid upsetting Viktor, she even lied that she had no one — no son, no mother. The man hated children and relatives.
Years passed, but no marriage proposal came. After four years Viktor was hospitalized with a heart attack. His children came to help. Lyudmila was shocked — it turned out he had three adult children and grandchildren. They all lived in Germany but kept regular contact with their father.
When she heard him speaking German on the phone, she thought it was work. But it turned out he was talking to his family. He lied. He never intended to marry her, just used her as a housekeeper… and as a woman.
The children arrived, and Viktor introduced her only as a housekeeper. Lyudmila’s cheeks burned with humiliation.
As soon as the man was discharged, a grand scandal began. Instead of apologies, Shpun simply threw her out. She had to return to her old job. They remembered her there and treated her kindly — gave her a corner in the utility room again.
It was then, in 2010, that the concierge decided to return home for the first time in many years. After the humiliation she had suffered, Lyudmila first wondered: what if she never marries a Muscovite? What if she has to meet old age in her native village?
Who would be there then to bring her a glass of water? So Lyudmila bought a ticket and went to her mother and son. But only for a short visit.
Nothing had changed in her native village. Her house was still crooked, the roof darkened by time. But opposite, proudly stood the beautiful, well-kept houses of the Osokins and Belousovs as before. Near Mikhail Nikolaevich’s yard now stood a new black foreign car.
The neighbors’ yards were positioned as if on purpose to be constantly visible to Lyudmila. From every window of her house, she could see the Osokins and Belousovs — which caused a new wave of irritation and anger in her.
What injustice is this? How many years has she suffered, worked in Moscow, not seen either her son or mother, not seen a normal life, and achieved nothing: no financial well-being, no personal happiness. And these people, without leaving the village, only grow richer. Where is the justice? Is Lyudmila less worthy of love and luck?
It hurt even more when she entered her own house. When Lyuda lived here before, she kept her son under watch, hardly letting him play with other children. Especially with Lida Osokina and her younger brother Andryusha. She even managed to turn ten-year-old Boris against these children, and every hurtful act of his brought her pleasure.
But now everything had changed. Hearing her seventeen-year-old son say:
— Grandma, I’m going to the Osokins. Misha told Andryukha and me to dig up worms, tomorrow at five in the morning we’re going fishing, — Lyudmila was stunned.
While she tried to comprehend what she heard, her son had already run out of the house. After a few seconds, the woman finally found her voice:
— Where is he going? To the Osokins? Uncle Misha? Fishing? What is going on?! My son now serves them, digs worms for them?! — Lyudmila blushed with anger, possibly her blood pressure spiked. She grabbed her head: — Mom, explain what is happening here!
— Nothing special, — the old woman calmly replied. — Misha Osokin is like a father, friend, and mentor to our kids. Without him, they’d be loafing or hanging around discos. They study well and do sports. I support such friendship. Lida is like a sister to them. No one at school will touch her — Boris and Andrey always defend her.
— Lida? Like a sister? Are you serious? — Lyudmila laughed hysterically. — Mom, are you losing it? Is this senile dementia?
— You have a problem with your head, Lyudka. You left your son to me, an old woman, and haven’t shown up for seven years. You came back like a hero mother. Boris doesn’t need you now. Go back to Moscow, — the pensioner’s lips trembled.
Maria Antonovna had long been offended by her daughter for leaving them with her grandson alone. And now she started teaching them how to live.
Lyudmila was silent and went out to the porch. She stood, thinking. Indeed — the son met her indifferently. He spent only a couple of minutes at home and ran to his friends. Hadn’t he missed her? Apparently not. Well, let it be, the woman decided.
She took her son’s bicycle standing in the yard and headed to the bus stop. She bought a ticket for the evening bus to the train station. “If anything — I’ll wait at the station,” she thought. “Better at the station than staying here even for a day.”
Tears ran down her cheeks — from resentment, anger, and helplessness. She came home, but no one even noticed her expensive handbag and stylish shoes. No one envied her. She had achieved nothing.
Returning home, she began packing.
— Lyudka, what are you doing? Decided to leave? Don’t do anything stupid, girl, — her mother begged. — Forgive me, the old woman.
Boris entered the house. Lyudmila wiped her tears and addressed her son:
— Son, I was urgently called to work. It’s a very important position. I have to leave tonight, — she smiled confusedly.
Borya took an apple from the table, came to his mother, and hugged her:
— Okay, Mom. Glad to see you, — he said and, stepping back, looked at his grandmother: — Grandma, I’m going to Andrey’s. Need to go to Yegorov, got some business.
— Wait, son, sit with your mother. She’s leaving today, — grandmother tried to stop him.
— I can’t. It’s urgent. Bye, Mom, — and he left the house. Lyudmila sat down on a chair and cried bitterly, covering her face with her hands.
In the evening, Boris asked to spend the night at Andrey Belousov’s so he could leave early in the morning for fishing. He left before dark — in summer, the guys often went swimming in the river.
About two hours after her son left, Lyudmila got ready to leave. Her mother did not see her off. The woman closed the gate and headed to the bus stop, but suddenly she heard music from the Osokin’s yard. Something pulled her there. She approached the tall wrought-iron gates and peeked through a crack.
There was a tape recorder on the table in the gazebo, plates with snacks. Nastya and Tatiana came out from behind the table and headed to the bathhouse, wrapped in white sheets. It was clear that the friends were going to steam.
Without thinking, Lyudmila sneaked into the Osokin yard as soon as the women disappeared into the steam room. She wedged the door with a shovel, found a dry splinter, lit it with a lighter, and threw it into the window…
Lyudmila hurried to leave the Osokin yard. It was dark outside, no one was around. The woman sighed with relief and walked to the bus stop. The last bus to the station was supposed to leave in ten minutes.
Meanwhile, the smoldering splinter fell right onto dry firewood in the bathhouse. The flame began to spread.
The train was unbearably hot. Lyudmila could not sleep — she tossed, went to the vestibule, and returned. Her soul found no peace. But as soon as she arrived in Moscow, everything behind was forgotten. The capital once again swallowed her with its hustle and bustle.
About five days passed before Maria Antonovna somewhat recovered and decided to call her daughter:
— Hello, Mom. I see you and Boris are not interested at all whether I arrived safely or if something happened to me? Maybe you’d have called in another month, — Lyudmila said mockingly.
— We have trouble, daughter, — the old woman whispered and cried.
— What happened? Is Boris okay? — the woman shouted anxiously. Her heart pounded in her chest.
— Boris is fine, — her mother reassured. — But with the neighbors — trouble. Nastya and Tatiana died in the bathhouse.
— How? — Lyudmila was shocked.
— Everything burned down completely. Mikhail didn’t even manage to get out — he slept soundly, went to bed early to go fishing with the guys early in the morning. His wife and her friend were steaming in the bathhouse. Why they didn’t run out when the fire started — no one knows. They stayed there forever.
The fire truck took a long time. When it arrived, the house was almost completely burned down. Only the temporary shed and barn of the Belousovs survived. The fire spread to Tatiana’s house — nothing was left.
— And the children? — Tabuntsova asked in a trembling voice.
— The kids, thank God, were at the river. They were baking potatoes on the shore. Fortunately, they didn’t return in time. Lida, Andrey, and Borya — all survived. But now they are orphans.
— What will happen now?
— Lydia and Andrey are minors. By law, they were taken to an orphanage. They will look for relatives, and if none are found, they will stay in the institution. Boris was so upset he doesn’t eat and can’t find peace.
Tears ran down Lyudmila’s cheeks. She did not pity the neighbors but became afraid: what if her son had been in their place? If only he had come home a little earlier…
— Mom, maybe I’ll take Boris to Moscow? He will soon finish school, I’ll arrange for him to study, he’ll get a dorm room. I live at work, I have nowhere to take him, but as an out-of-towner, they will definitely provide a place.
— I’ll talk to him. That would be good, — her mother sighed.
— Mom, how do you live there among the ruins? And see all this every day?
— We’ll have to endure until the investigation is over. They promised to rebuild the houses.
— What investigation? — Lyudmila was scared.
— Of course. There are suspicions someone set the fire. The authorities are investigating.
After the conversation with her mother, Lyudmila was beside herself. Her blood pressure rose, her condition worsened. Eventually, she was hospitalized from work by ambulance.
The woman suffered, found no peace. She did not want to kill anyone — she just wanted to punish the neighbors, take away their well-being. But soon the pain began to fade, thoughts about what happened started to dim. She forgot both the tragedy and her plan to take her son to Moscow.
In the hospital, Lyudmila was under the care of Dr. Yuriy Nikolaevich Sinitskiy. He was significantly older than the patient, but after her recovery, he began to show attention. The man was a widower, had no children or grandchildren. His life had passed in loneliness after his wife’s death.
When he learned that Lyuda had a seventeen-year-old son, his heart filled with joy — he had always dreamed of having a son. Sinitskiy lived alone in a large apartment, twenty years older than Lyudmila — practically her mother’s age. Learning about his daughter’s new suitor, Maria Antonovna almost fainted, and Lyudmila just snorted.
As soon as the doctor proposed, the woman agreed. A new life began — carefree and comfortable. Lyudmila quit her job, took care of herself and the house. Her husband spared nothing for her.
Yuriy Nikolaevich asked that after school Boris move in with them. Hearing this, Lyudmila was delighted. She could not imagine that her husband would accept her son as his own. Usually, other people’s children are nobody’s concern.
Her mother was happy, but Boris refused. He stayed with his grandmother, explaining: “Grandma needs help. And I’ll wait for Lida.”
After the deaths of Anastasia, Mikhail Osokin, and Tatiana Belousova, Lyudmila hoped that envy, anger, and hatred would disappear from her heart. But she was wrong. Now these feelings were directed at the neighbors’ children.
After another conversation with her son, she decided to try again to persuade him to move:
— Boryenka, congratulations on finishing school! Yuri and I are waiting for you at home. We’ll be one happy family. You’ll have your own room, — she said and froze in anticipation.
Her son was silent and replied:
— What dad Yuri? Are you crazy, Mom? — Boris laughed. Lyudmila was confused.
— This is my husband, Yuriy Nikolaevich Sinitskiy. He’s ready to accept you, do everything possible, — her lips trembled.
— I don’t think I’ll leave grandma. And I’m not going anywhere. I decided to enter the district technical school as a tractor driver. The profession is in demand here. Besides, Andrey is in the orphanage, and Lida too, — her son quietly added.
— So what? That’s their fate. And you have your own life!
— Mom, you don’t understand. Lida is my life. I love her. She is fifteen now, studying, but I’ll wait. Here. Until she grows up — I’ll marry her. I’ll rebuild their house.
He hung up. Lyudmila looked ahead confusedly. Her son loved Lidia Osokina? That can’t be, she thought. But life is full of surprises.
In fact, it was much more complicated. Boris loved Lydia, and Lydia secretly loved Andrey Belousov all her life — silently, deeply, so that no one suspected.
Andrey, having lost his mother, placed all the blame for what happened on Lida — or rather, on her parents. He was convinced that if Anastasia Osokina had not invited his mother to the bathhouse, Tatiana would still be alive.
He vented his pain and anger on Lida. He mocked her in the orphanage, blamed her for everything, laughed at her. But she endured it. Only Boris supported her.
Sometimes he came to the orphanage, bringing candies, toys, pretty hair clips, and even plastic earrings with stones. This was when Boris had already graduated from college and started working. But soon he was drafted into the army, and Lida was left completely alone.
On weekends, Boris’s grandmother — Maria Antonovna — began visiting the girl. She did it at her grandson’s request: visited Lida, spent time with her, and recalled their shared childhood. Once Lydia admitted that she dreamed of becoming a teacher. She and Boris continued to talk on the phone.
The young man didn’t want to lose contact with his beloved because he firmly knew: one day she would be his wife. But Lyudmila still hated the orphan. She cursed the Osokin daughter and prayed to God that her son would move to Moscow after the army.
— Yura, I don’t understand how Boris can reject all the opportunities given to him? He refuses a stable life for some plain girl. Nothing to look at, — Lyudmila told her husband.
— It’s love, Lyudochka. He loves her, that’s all. Like I once fell in love with you, — smiled Yuriy Nikolaevich and kissed his wife’s hand.
— No, that’s not it, — Lyudmila pouted. — Don’t compare me and that ragamuffin Osokina.
For her, the village girl was a stranger, unworthy of her son. But she, a simple village concierge, was quite suitable for Dr. Sinitskiy.
After graduating from school, Lydia entered the pedagogical university in the computer technologies department. While studying, she lived in a dormitory but, as an orphan, received a one-room apartment in the district center. Now she had a place to live after her studies.
Besides, she got a plot of land in her native village where her parents’ house once stood. During winter and summer vacations, Lydia came here and stayed with Maria Antonovna.
Boris returned from the army and also stayed in the village. He worked as a tractor driver, helped his grandmother, and waited for Lida. He had long confessed his feelings to her but didn’t rush — he knew that for Lida, he was just a friend for now.
Just as Boris waited for her, Lydia waited for Andrey. After the army, he did not return to the village. He sometimes called Boris, who knew that Andrey stayed in Khabarovsk. Lida hoped he would return and could not imagine life outside her native village. But reality was different: Andrey settled down, married, and had a daughter Tanya. Lydia realized there was no chance left.
By that time, the girl graduated from university and began working at the rural school. She held several positions at once: computer science teacher, class supervisor, and extracurricular activities coordinator. She loved children, her work, and devoted all her time to it.
Lydia lived in her apartment in the district center but wanted to work specifically in her native village. She often organized school hikes in the forest or down the river, created a tourist club. Boris — a former paratrooper, strong, brave, loved by children — helped her.
Day by day, Lydia and Boris grew closer. The girl gradually realized that without him, she lacked something important. He became her support, protection, and a real find. Maria Antonovna long considered Lida her granddaughter.
Every year on Lydia’s birthday, Boris proposed. And in early 2020, she finally said “yes.” The young man was over the moon. He immediately went to his mother in Moscow — to tell her about the engagement and discuss the wedding.
Boris wanted the best for Lydia. He even agreed to move to Moscow if necessary. His mother and husband had long been inviting him — why not?
— After we marry, we’ll move to Moscow. I’ll find a job, Lida will work there. I’ll earn money and build a house for her on the old site, as promised, — Boris thought, sitting on the train.
But his mother met the news coldly:
— If you think I’ll be happy about your wedding to Lida, you’re wrong, — Lyudmila said dryly.
— Why? Don’t you want me to be happy? I love her.
— Does she love you? — the woman got angry.
— Of course she does. Why not? — Boris pressed his lips to hide a tremble. — You never support me. Why can’t you be happy for me just once?
— You won’t be happy with her, son. I knew her family well. She’s not what you think.
— What does her family have to do with it? You don’t even know Lida. You left when we were little. You’re not in our lives, — the boy cried. — I have my own life. I don’t want everything to be your way.
Yuriy Nikolaevich left the room, greeted his son, hugged his wife:
— What are you arguing about again? Let’s go eat. Boris is right — he’s an adult. We can only help. I’m happy for you, Boris. I really want to meet Lida.
The young man smiled and hugged his stepfather for the first time. Lyudmila was silent.
She understood that Yuriy was right. Her husband often advised her to be more restrained. Many of her problems were because of emotionality and impulsiveness. To improve relations with her son, she needed to support him, not boss him around. But thoughts about Lida still irritated her.
Still, the young couple married. After the wedding, they moved to grandmother Maria Antonovna’s house. Both loved and respected her very much. Lydia closed the apartment in the district center, deciding to keep it as a dowry for future children.
But years passed, and they had no children. Boris was almost thirty, Lydia was twenty-seven. They were building a new house next to the grandmother’s, loved each other, were happy, but had no kids.
Every time the couple visited Moscow, Lyudmila asked:
— When will Yuriy and I see grandchildren?
— If children were sold in a store, we would have bought you a couple of toddlers long ago, — Boris smiled sadly.
— Maybe we should go to a clinic? Yura can arrange it.
— Mom, we’ve been to doctors. We’re healthy. It just happens.
— You’re just not a match, son. You need another wife. Otherwise, I’ll leave this life without seeing grandchildren. And grandma… She doesn’t have much time left either. She won’t see great-grandchildren from her only grandson… — Lyudmila cried again, trying to hurt her son.
At such moments, Boris was very irritated. What could he do if they couldn’t conceive a child? They had already discussed IVF at a clinic but hadn’t told anyone — neither parents nor grandmother. They wanted to announce it when everything went well. But fate intervened — an event happened that put an end to their family life.
Lyudmila Andreyevna had long pondered how to separate her son and Lydia. Although Lydia officially took her husband’s surname after the wedding, the mother-in-law still called her only “Osokina,” showing she did not accept the new family member.
One of her plans she decided to carry out. In the village lived a family — Ivan and Ekaterina Luchikhina. Katya had been in love with Boris since school, and when he married Lydia, she literally broke down. She married Ivan, punishing herself, as she said — to spite Boris.
He didn’t pay attention to her feelings. Before marriage, they were close several times, but for him it was a meaningless infatuation. But Ekaterina started building illusions about the future. When she learned about Boris and Lydia’s upcoming wedding, she had a severe crisis — she cried, even thought about suicide. Then she pulled herself together and agreed to the first man who proposed.
Family life for Katya and Ivan did not work out. The husband often drank, and she dreamed of running away — especially if Boris showed any sign. Lyudmila took advantage of this.
At that time, Lydia went for two weeks to advanced training courses. Boris was at home with free time. The mother decided to make a “surprise” and organized a meeting with classmates.
— Son, let’s throw a party! Grill some kebabs, invite friends. Haven’t gathered for a long time, — Lyudmila suggested.
Borya agreed — he hadn’t seen old friends for a long time. Some had left, others stayed in the village. The party was a success: lots of food, music, and fun until morning.
In the morning, Boris woke up next to Ekaterina. He was scared, but Katya assured him she wouldn’t tell anyone. However, after a month, she came with a statement that she was pregnant. The man was shocked. Following Lyudmila’s advice, Ekaterina began blackmailing Boris: either he divorces Lydia, or she tells everything to his wife.
She did a DNA test after eight weeks. The result showed the child was indeed Boris’s. Lyudmila added fuel to the fire:
— If you leave your child’s mother, we’ll take care of the grandchild ourselves.
— How do you know I’ll be a father? — the son asked.
— Katya told me. I’m not blind — I saw how she stayed overnight the day of the party.
— Mom, swear you’re not involved in this, — Boris asked sternly.
— I swear, — the woman answered, confidently looking into his eyes. She had long learned to lie skillfully and cover her tracks.
When Lydia wasn’t around, Lyudmila strongly hinted to her son that he needed to be with the real mother of his child. Once, she even talked about renting out her daughter-in-law’s apartment and starting to save money for the baby. Not because they lacked money, but simply because Lyudmila never missed an opportunity to profit from any situation.
It was during such a conversation between mother and son that Lida caught them. What she heard was the last straw.
Lida packed her things and left her husband. She quit her job and moved to the district center, to her small apartment. Boris tried to get her back, begged for forgiveness, but Lydia did not forgive. They divorced, and she got a job at another school, far from the past.
Once, returning home, Lydia met a girl about seven years old sitting on the steps of the entrance. The woman knew that new tenants now lived in her apartment on the third floor.
— Hello, little one. You’ll freeze here. Let me help you up, — Lydia smiled.
— Hello. I’m alone, — the girl answered.
— Why are you alone? It’s getting dark.
— I’m waiting for my dad. He’s locking the apartment. We are your new neighbors. My name is Tanya, and my dad is Andrey. And you?
— Lida. Nice to meet you. What’s your mom’s name?
— I don’t have a mom. She abandoned us. It’s just me and dad.
A man, obviously the girl’s father, was coming down the stairs. Approaching closer, he suddenly froze:
— Lida? Is that you?
It was Andrey Belousov — her old childhood friend.
They talked for a long time, as if making up for lost years. Until Tanya reminded:
— I’m freezing already. Let’s go home.
— Come in for dinner, — Lydia invited. She smiled. Today she felt a new life had begun.
And she was right. Over time, she and Andrey married. A year later, they had a child. For Lydia, this was a real miracle — she had long lost hope of becoming pregnant, but in marriage with Andrey, it all happened easily.
They did not return to the village. One of Andrey’s classmates told him that Boris had a daughter with Ekaterina, but their family was full of quarrels and scandals. Maria Antonovna died, and Lyudmila divorced Yuriy Nikolaevich and returned again to her native village.
Wherever Lyudmila lived — she remained dissatisfied with life. The neighbors who once irritated her were long gone, but she was still angry, blaming everyone around her, only not herself.
