“My flowers… How could this happen?!”
Coming back from work, Anna decided to admire her tulips. They were just blooming and decorating the yard area—which, by the way, no one but Anna took care of. She did it on her own initiative, loving it when the grandmothers from neighboring apartments praised her for her dedication and hard work.
But not everyone appreciated Anna’s efforts. Especially the neighbor from the second entrance. And right now, he was parking his car right on the flowerbed, carefully planted with tulips.
“Stop! What are you doing?!” Anna almost threw herself under the neighbor’s car, but he seemed not to see her and continued maneuvering. Anna had to jump aside, or else he would have run her over. “Hey, man! You’re driving over the flowerbed!”
“I don’t see any flowerbed here, get lost!” he said indifferently, and after getting out of the car, disappeared into the entrance hall, leaving Anna alone with her worries and broken flowers.
“No way to deal with people like this…” Anna muttered and trudged after him. After all, she didn’t want to fight him. Where he was—a two-meter-tall brute—and where she was…
At first glance, Anna might have seemed like a schoolgirl—short, skinny, with a braid and thick plastic-framed glasses. Strangers often called her “girl,” and once, at the store checkout, someone even asked her to call her mother. But she was twenty-seven and was used to being unnoticed.
“You are very kind, sweet, and decent!” acquaintances used to say.
But Anna knew—it wasn’t about kindness. She was simply not used to arguing. Even in school and university debates, she preferred to stay silent and avoid discussions. For some reason, no one took Anna seriously, and it was easier for her to keep quiet and agree, even though her opinions sometimes differed and were well-reasoned.
Probably that’s why Anna graduated from school with a silver medal, not a gold, although she knew all subjects perfectly. When exam time came, her test got lost. Then the result came back—70 points. Anna was sure it wasn’t her result. But she didn’t appeal. She accepted it, thinking the teachers and examiners knew better.
Still, a “B” in Russian didn’t stop Anna from successfully enrolling in a good university, graduating, and getting a decent job. Anna was quite satisfied with her life: her grandmother left her a one-room apartment in an old building on the first floor, and Anna made the cozy little apartment her own. Having settled in, she took up “landscaping.”
In front of the house, Anna had a small flower garden under her window. Amid concrete, this oasis was her little refuge. First, Anna sowed a lawn, then decided to beautify the area with flowerbeds. She planted tulips, narcissi for spring, and planned to plant marigolds in summer. Anna loved flowers so much. Everything was going well: she received thanks from the neighbors and was glad everyone liked her initiative… Until one day in early May she heard an engine sound. The neighbor from the other entrance had parked his black SUV right next to her flowerbed. That time the flowers were lucky—they remained under the car’s chassis. But Anna was really scared.
“Excuse me! Sir!” she said hesitantly, opening the window.
“What do you want?” he grunted, glancing disdainfully at the “schoolgirl” at the window.
“You’re parked right on the flowers. Could you please move the car?”
“This isn’t a botanical garden, girl. I park where there’s space,” he grunted without turning around and slammed the door.
Anna stayed standing by the window, thinking about what to do.
She restored the flowerbed that same evening after the man left. To be sure, she placed several large stones near the flowerbed, but two days later, the SUV was again parked in the same spot. The stones didn’t bother him.
“Get lost!” the neighbor just waved off Anna when she ran up to ask him to move the car. Now the flowers suffered. The delicate stems were crushed, and the flowerbed was irreversibly destroyed by the car wheels.
“No way to deal with them…” Anna muttered, running through possible actions in her mind. While thinking and walking toward her door through the vestibule, she nearly tripped over a children’s bicycle. Apparently, the light bulb in the hallway was out.
Shining her phone’s flashlight, Anna made her way to her door.
“Mikhail! Don’t hit your sister! Masha! Why are you hitting Misha?!” a neighbor, a young mother of three children, entered the corridor right behind Anna. She dragged along another item of the corridor “garage”—a scooter for her eldest son. Anna already guessed that all these things belonged to one family. Their shared vestibule for three apartments was gradually turning into a storage space: two bicycles, a stroller, a scooter, rollerblades, sleds, boxes of toys. Meanwhile, Anna herself had only one thing in the corridor—a doormat. The same went for the other neighbor on the left. Yet opening the door without bumping something became a task requiring circus-artist agility.
Anna saw the mess and remembered how once she accidentally hit a bicycle handlebar, and helmets, balls, and some building set parts fell off a shelf. The neighbor immediately rushed out of her apartment, as if standing guard by the door:
“Be careful! These are expensive children’s things, you know!”
“It’s just hard to get through,” Anna replied quietly. “Maybe you could clear the way? I don’t understand why there’s so much stuff in the corridor!”
“You’ll understand when you have your own kids!” the neighbor snapped sharply.
Anna fell silent. Again. Because she felt that if she continued talking, if she even started to argue—it would lead to a scandal. And she hated scandals and avoided them at all costs.
She simply left silently. Just like always, swallowing her discomfort, preserving the “poor peace that is better than a good quarrel.”
At work, everything was peaceful for Anna too. No one asked, “Are you comfortable?” Everyone just asked for things, passed tasks, dumped duties.
“Anna,” said Tatiana Petrovna, the accountant, once, “some letters need to go to the post office. You’re going to lunch anyway.”
“I’m going to eat in the cafeteria… just twenty minutes. And it takes ten minutes to get to the post office!”
“Well, then you’ll have time. Thanks, dear!” Tatiana Petrovna handed Anna a stack of letters.
Anna went, biting her tongue. She was always “convenient.” Not because she wanted to be, but because no one took her protests seriously.
When tired Anna came home after a long workday and once again tripped over the neighbor’s scooter, the phone rang. It was Lera, a longtime friend and acquaintance.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Anya! Listen, I urgently need to come to you. My parents went to the sea for the summer, and my boyfriend, with whom I live, can’t stand dogs. You’ve always helped me. Could you take care of their little dog for a while? He’s tiny, sneezing, almost invisible. He’ll just lie in his bed and shiver. Just walk him once a day and feed him on schedule.”
“Lera, I’m allergic. Seriously, my eyes water, and my throat itches… And I’m not home much. I work!” Anna tried to refuse.
“Anya, why are you whining? Allergy isn’t a problem! Buy some drops and you’ll be fine! The dog’s quiet—you won’t even notice him, and he won’t bother you. Help me out! I’m already on my way. By the way, open the door.”
Anna wanted to ignore her, but it didn’t work. The neighbor opened the door, and Lera with her family came into the entrance. Then she started knocking. Anna had to open.
So an unfamiliar dog appeared in Anna’s life. Along with it—sleepless nights, pills, irritation, itching, fur everywhere. Anna held back. But inside, something unpleasant grew: tiredness mixed with the feeling that someone spat in her soul.
Evgeny appeared unexpectedly. A new employee at the company where Anna worked: tall, calm, attentive. He came to her office closer to evening—supposedly to verify some numbers in a report. Then he offered to drive her home as a thank-you for her time and… stayed for tea.
Anna was no stranger to having guests, but nice guys like Zhenya were new to her. Evgeny joked a lot, asked Anna about work and hobbies, and was very surprised when he saw Anna taking antihistamines.
“Did you sign up for this willingly?” Evgeny asked, pointing to the dog. “You’ve got a runny nose!”
“Well… Lera asked me. Everyone has their difficulties. And I’m… okay, I guess. No boyfriend, no kids. The allergy passes if I stay on meds.”
“All is well, but only ‘guess’?” he clarified.
Anna laughed. He left but thought about Anna until Monday. That’s how their relationship started, unlike an office romance.
Zhenya valued Anna’s reputation, and they only met after work. On weekends, he often stayed with her, each time looking at the dog and her red, allergy-ridden nose, thinking about how to help his beloved.
One hot Sunday, Anna opened the window to air out the room, but the smell of burning rushed in.
Anna glanced at the window.
“That’s the neighbor. He parks right under the window. I close the vent when he starts the engine. But arguing is useless.”
“Have you tried?”
“Well… not really. It’s obvious what he’s like.”
“Yes, I understand. And the neighbor with three kids is obvious too. And the colleagues who dump their worries on you. Didn’t you talk for an hour and a half yesterday with a difficult client on Milana’s behalf?”
“She asked me to,” Anna looked away. “She’s pregnant, and it’s a clinical case.”
“Yeah, sure. Milana can’t be stressed, and they treat you like you’re nothing?”
“Do you think I’m a doormat?” Anna shook her head.
“No, I think they’re just shameless. You need to shake off those leeches and rest.”
“Vacation time,” she laughed.
“And a birthday,” he added, knowing what gift he would give.
“On Friday you’re going to the holiday camp. I’ve organized everything. There’s a forest, a lake, and silence. No neighbors with strollers or SUVs under the windows,” Evgeny said, handing over a vacation certificate. “Happy birthday, Anya.”
“Zhenya, I have a dog… How can I leave it behind?!”
“It’s all under control. I’ll take care of it. Give me the keys; I’ll feed and walk it.”
“Really?!”
“Yes.”
She didn’t think twice. She went. And he stayed to sort everything out.
The first problem he solved was simple. Evgeny took the dog to an elite pet hotel. Morning walks, balanced meals, video monitoring.
Taking Lera’s number from Anna, he quickly sent a message:
“Your dog can be picked up anytime. 10,000 rubles per day. A day has already passed.”
Lera picked up the dog that same evening. She was, of course, angry at Anna but understood the issue wasn’t with her. Meanwhile, Anna was still on vacation, out of touch.
After the dog situation was resolved, Evgeny tackled the rude neighbor with the car. After talking to the man and telling him everything about the consequences of long-term parking on lawns where it’s prohibited, Evgeny called the precinct officer and a tow truck. The car was taken away and fined. That same evening, a sign appeared at the flowerbed:
“Parking prohibited. Fine 15,000 rubles. Video surveillance.”
The SUV driver tried to argue, but Evgeny was no skinny “schoolgirl” like Anna. He was 180 cm tall and weighed nearly 90 kg of muscle. So the neighbor understood he should park far from Anna’s window.
Evgeny thought longest about the children’s things in the vestibule. They were kids, a family… Somehow, it didn’t feel right to fight with them. But when the mother of three kids attacked Evgeny for slamming the door too loudly in the vestibule and moving her belongings closer to the apartment, he realized there was no reason to pity them.
“I slammed the door loudly because I didn’t manage to close it quietly—I had to jump over your stuff. And to get home, I had to move the bike. It was on our doormat.”
“Who do you think you are?! You don’t live here, so you have no right to give orders!”
“I’m from the inspection. I’m giving you 24 hours to clear everything out. Otherwise, I’ll do it myself,” he threatened.
“From which inspection?”
“Fire department. You have constant violations here. There will be fines, and your stuff will be thrown out!”
Two days later, the vestibule was empty. Only an old sled remained. Broken, rusty. Someone put a ficus on it, and Evgeny decided that this decor object should stay.
When Anna returned, she didn’t recognize her vestibule. Rested and with rosy cheeks, she was very happy to be home. Evgeny met her at the entrance, holding a bouquet. But Anna was happier about different flowers:
“The flowerbed is intact, and the neighbor parks in the other yard?!” she exclaimed. “You… seriously? How did you do all this? And where’s the dog?”
“The dog’s with the owner. And here… I just talked to everyone. Helped because you shouldn’t have to deal with all this alone.”
She smiled and threw herself around his neck.
“Thank you, Zhenya!”
And suddenly it became clear: kindness isn’t about enduring. It’s about someone nearby saying, “I’ll handle it.”
By the way, changes affected work too. A sign appeared on Anna’s office door:
“All questions to Evgeny. Payment for help and advice as per price list.”
Colleagues laughed, but stopped sending tasks and emails to Anna. Tatiana Petrovna now carried the letters and documents herself. And problematic clients were distributed among call center operators instead of being assigned to those who couldn’t refuse.
Anna appreciated the help, and soon Evgeny moved in with her for good. A year later, they got married. Anna found her prince, and he found fragile Anna—the girl he wanted to protect and care for.
