Svetlana felt like the happiest woman alive. In just a single year, her world had transformed beyond recognition. Only twelve months earlier, she had lived under the same roof as her aunt, who treated her less like a niece and more like a servant. The woman never lifted a finger around the house or garden—she simply walked in from the street, collapsed onto the couch, and barked orders.
Sveta’s dreams back then were modest yet distant: to finish her studies, find a decent job, and escape that suffocating life. Her aunt often scolded her for something as small as a slice of bread, even though she collected state benefits for Sveta and made solid money selling the garden’s harvest. Then, as if by fate, a miracle happened.
She met Alexey. Handsome, confident, smart—he was everything she thought she’d never have. A successful manager with his own apartment, Alexey lived decisively, never postponing important choices. One day, he looked at her with serious eyes and said:
“I can’t go on like this. Your aunt is suffocating you, and I can’t stand by and watch. I want you by my side, always. Move in with me.”
Svetlana didn’t hesitate. It wasn’t a marriage proposal, just an invitation to live together, but to her it was enough—more than enough. It meant freedom, it meant love, it meant finally belonging somewhere. She packed her things, ignoring her aunt’s shrieking curses and threats that she was “no longer family.” Sveta didn’t even look back.
From that moment, life sparkled with happiness. Their small apartment became a warm and cozy home, lovingly arranged by Svetlana. Each evening she rushed back from work with joy, knowing Alexey would be there. And today—today she carried the greatest news of all. After a quiet visit to the clinic, her suspicions had been confirmed: a new life was growing inside her. Not just one—two. She was expecting twins. Overwhelmed with joy, she was sure their future would be bright.
But when she opened the apartment door, her heart faltered. A scent lingered in the air—familiar, yet strangely out of place. Perfume. Her own perfume. The bottle Alexey had given her months ago, which she had stopped using long ago.
Frowning, she stepped into the living room. From the bedroom came muffled sounds—strange, intimate sounds. A thief? Impossible. Alexey wasn’t supposed to be home for another half-hour. Gripping a mop like a weapon, Svetlana pushed open the bedroom door.
And froze.
It wasn’t a thief. It was Alexey. But he wasn’t alone. Beside him lay a young, striking girl, so different from Svetlana she seemed like another world entirely. They hadn’t even noticed her at first. When Alexey finally looked up, the girl shrieked, clutching a sheet to her chest. Alexey, however, stood with unsettling calm.
“What are you staring at like that?” he said flatly. “You’re not a child—you should understand. Love ends. If I’m honest, it was never love anyway. Just infatuation. That’s all.”
His words hammered into her skull. Svetlana wanted to scream, to argue, to insist their love had been real—but her voice failed her. Without a word, she turned and ran. On the staircase, his final blow struck her like a knife:
“I’ll pack your things. You can pick them up later!”
Things? What did she care for things when her entire world had just crumbled?
That night, she awoke on a bench in a half-abandoned courtyard, surrounded by crumbling two-story houses. Numb, she thought of her aunt’s home. Perhaps, just this once, the woman wouldn’t cast her out?
She stood for a long time outside the dark windows, remembering her aunt’s harsh words—how she’d always claimed Sveta would end up ruined, how she had sworn she would never forgive her. With a deep sigh, Svetlana turned away.
At dawn, she sat by the river, watching the still water as tears streamed down her face. She whispered into the emptiness, “Forgive me… I just can’t… I can’t do this anymore.” She thought not only of herself, but of the two fragile lives just beginning within her.
When her tears finally dried, she rose, glanced at her watch—half past six. By evening, she decided, everything would be over. She fixed her hair in a pocket mirror, wiped her face, and walked toward the bus stop. Ahead lay a long journey: first a bus, then a train.
The train carriage was nearly empty—just a handful of passengers and an elderly woman. The conductor appeared almost at once, and Svetlana noticed the woman’s anxious, guilty glance. She had no ticket.
“Grandmother, you don’t have a ticket?” Svetlana asked softly.
The woman sighed. “No, dear. I left my wallet at home. My memory isn’t what it used to be. But I must reach my grandson—I baked him pies, and he’s waiting for me.”
Without hesitation, Svetlana smiled faintly and went to the conductor. She paid for both their fares. The conductor, understanding, simply nodded. When Svetlana returned, the old woman gave her a grateful smile—one small spark of warmth in the cold, collapsing world around her.
“Thank you, dear. I don’t know what I would have done if they’d left me in the middle of the road.”
“Well, you could’ve called your grandson to come and pick you up.”
“Oh, heavens, no!” The grandmother fluttered her hands nervously. “He always scolds me when I cross the city to see him. Says I should rest more, walk a little, not drag myself around. My Seryozha is a good boy—works so hard, has so little time. He tries to visit, though not often.”
There was such warmth in her voice, such quiet care, that Svetlana felt something stir deep inside—something she hadn’t felt in years. A sense of home, of tenderness. She had never known it: her parents had died when she was still a child, and the aunt who raised her never once showed her kindness.
“And where are you off to, my dear? Has something happened? Your eyes are all swollen from tears.”
Svetlana wanted to deny it, but suddenly the dam broke—she burst into tears.
“I thought… I thought everything was fine. That I’d finally be happy. But he… he betrayed me. And now…” Her words tangled. “I don’t want to give them up. They’re so tiny, but they’re mine. Still… how can I doom them to such a life? I can’t…”
Though her voice was broken, Svetlana understood perfectly well what she was saying. The old woman gently stroked her hair, soothing her.
“It’s hard for you now,” she said quietly. “But I see your heart is kind. If you go through with this, you will regret it later.”
“Maybe,” Svetlana whispered, “but I have nowhere to live… and no way to care for them.”
They got off together at the next stop. Svetlana quickly said goodbye and walked away, while the grandmother stood watching her for a long time.
By the time Svetlana had given her blood samples and signed the necessary papers, more than an hour had passed. She hurried to the hospital. They had told her if she arrived before ten, they might take her in today. If not—she would have to wait until tomorrow.
At the entrance, Svetlana froze, her heart aching as if caught in a vice. Still, she forced herself forward and pushed open the heavy doors. And there—waiting, as if expecting her—stood the same grandmother from the train. She came toward Svetlana at once.
“I was so hoping you’d change your mind!”
“Please, grandmother,” Svetlana pleaded, trying to hide her turmoil. “Don’t torment me. I came to do this before I lose my resolve.”
“Child, wait. Come with me first—I want you to meet my grandson.”
“But I don’t have time!” Svetlana protested.
“You’ll have time,” the old woman replied firmly, gripping her hand and leading her away with surprising determination.
The passing nurses smiled knowingly, and Svetlana realized the grandmother was clearly “one of their own.” They walked down a long corridor until the old woman confidently opened a door marked Chief Physician.
“Wait—” Svetlana began, but the door opened, and a man stood on the threshold—not nearly as old as she had imagined. She had expected someone gray, nearing retirement. Instead, the doctor before her was younger than she thought possible.
“I was waiting for you,” he said with a calm smile. “Grandmother has already told me everything. Come in. Grandma, take a seat—you must be tired.”
“All right, Seryozha,” she answered, settling down with a sly smile.
Inside the office, Svetlana felt awkward, almost guilty.
“Please, sit,” the man said, gesturing to a chair.
She shook her head. “There’s no point. I’ve already decided.”
“Allow me to disagree,” he replied gently. “If your decision were truly final, you wouldn’t be here. You knew grandmother would try to stop you, yet you still let her bring you.”
Svetlana lifted her eyes, stunned. He was right.
“Strange… Grandmother is a complete stranger to me, and yet I listened to her,” Svetlana admitted, confused.
“You see,” said Sergey Anatolyevich, the chief physician, gently sliding a glass of water toward her, “not everything is lost. Take five minutes, don’t rush. Sit down.”
Svetlana lowered herself back into the chair, her eyes filling with tears.
“And you claim you’ve already made up your mind,” Sergey said with a faint smile, settling beside her. “Tell me honestly, Svetlana—did you decide to end this pregnancy only because your fiancé betrayed you? Forgive me for being direct, but grandmother told me everything.”
“It’s not just that… I have nowhere to live. I can’t go back to my aunt,” she sobbed. Sergey quietly handed her the glass again.
“What if I suggest another way out?” His voice softened. “You see, I treasure my grandmother more than anything—she’s all I have. But she never rests: rushing across the city to bring me pies, exhausting herself. I worry about her constantly. The truth is, she needs someone by her side. When she told me about you, I thought: maybe this isn’t an accident. Maybe God himself sent you.”
He paused, then went on:
“Become her companion, Svetlana. Not for free—you’ll live with her, raise your babies under her care, and in return she will surround you with warmth. She’s a pediatrician, with a lifetime of experience. She’ll help you, and you’ll give her peace. Well, Svetlana, what do you say? Save your babies, and you’ll save me from endless worry.”
Svetlana forgot her tears, staring at him, uncertain what to answer.
“I… I don’t know…” she whispered.
Two hours later, they were already on their way to Sergey’s grandmother. Her name was Evdokiya Semyonovna, and her joy seemed boundless.
“Oh, Seryozhenka will come to us now, and we’ll bake pies for his visits! We’ll prepare a room for you and the little ones. Don’t worry, Svetochka, everything will be wonderful, you’ll see.”
Svetlana felt as if she had stepped onto the stage of a surreal play, but resisting the old woman was impossible. And truthfully, she was too weary to keep fighting fate. Sergey visited often, and though his presence embarrassed her at first, over time she grew accustomed to him.
They even went together to Alexey’s to collect her things. When he opened the door, he froze—staring at Svetlana’s rounded belly, then at the serious man beside her whose gaze promised no good. Svetlana swiftly packed, while Sergey, taking the bags, urged her toward the exit.
“Let’s go,” he said curtly.
Alexey lunged forward, pointing at her stomach:
“This… this is mine!”
But Svetlana felt Sergey’s steady hand on her shoulder, and suddenly she was calm.
“No, Lesha,” she replied firmly. “This is mine. It no longer concerns you.”
One look from Sergey was enough to silence Alexey completely.
In time, Svetlana gave birth to two beautiful, healthy daughters. The very first visitor was Sergey. His eyes shone with genuine delight.
“I saw them! They’re amazing—so tiny, but so strong!”
Svetlana smiled weakly.
“Thank you, Sergey Anatolyevich. If not for you and Evdokiya Semyonovna…”
He grinned.
“Speaking of grandmother… she’s wise, but she’s also persistent. She told me recently, ‘You ought to marry Svetlana.’ I laughed—‘She’s twelve years younger than me, why would she want me?’ But grandmother insists it’s my duty. What can I say…”
Svetlana reached for his hand.
“Wait… Sergey, is that a proposal?”
He flushed.
“I—I don’t know how to do this properly. You don’t have to say yes. I’ve wanted to ask for a long time, but I was afraid. Today, I just decided to risk it. I understand everything—the age difference, the past, your feelings…” He rambled nervously, words tumbling out as if to shield him from rejection.
Finally, Svetlana found a moment to interrupt:
“I agree,” she said quietly.
Sergey froze, staring at her.
“Why?”
Her smile was soft, but steady.
“Because you’re the best. I knew it from the moment I first stepped into your office.”
