— So, how do you plan to live from now on? — her mother-in-law cast a disdainful look around the one-room apartment, as though it were the site of a particularly heinous crime. — You think you can handle three? You could hardly manage with one, and now… Eh!
Alina silently picked up the toys scattered across the room. Three-year-old Yegorka, five-year-old Vika, and seven-year-old Masha had finally fallen asleep, and she just wanted to sit in the silence. Without advice and comments.
— Can you hear me, or is this just like usual? — Nadya Petrovna raised her voice. — I’m telling you: give Misha our share of this shack! We’ll see in court who gets what!
— Could you lower your voice? — Alina pressed her finger to her lips. — The kids just fell asleep.
— Kids! — her mother-in-law snorted so loudly that a photo frame almost fell off the bookshelf. — You had them on purpose to take over the apartment? You think the court won’t figure this out? My boy worked his ass off for seven years to feed all of you, and what did you do? Stayed at home and kept popping out kids!
Alina gritted her teeth. For seven years, she had “only” raised the children, cooked, cleaned, did laundry, ironed, took the little ones to the doctor, attended parent-teacher meetings, sewed costumes for school plays, listened to her mother-in-law’s constant complaints, and… believed she was doing everything right. Just like her mother taught her. Just like her sister Ira does now, who left her job after having her second child.
— Mikhail suggested I stay home, — she said quietly. — He said the mother should be with the children.
— Ha! I heard how you whined: “Mishenka, I’m so tired at work, let me quit, the kids need attention,” — her mother-in-law mimicked a high-pitched voice. — You seduced him, and now you want to grab the apartment too? No way, my dear! We’ll register Misha here, and then we’ll see who’s entitled to what!
A child’s cry came from behind the door.
— Mom, who’s crying? — came Masha’s sleepy voice.
— Sleep, darling, it’s… the TV, — Alina answered, throwing an irritated glance at her mother-in-law.
— Oh, how sweet we are, — Nadya Petrovna sneered. — Do you know why my son really left you? Because family is a burden, and only a real man can bear it. And you drained all the life out of my boy! What kind of normal man would tolerate a constantly whining woman with three screaming children? Anyone would run from that!
— Nadya Petrovna, I beg you…
— What are you begging me for? I’m not your housemaid to be begged! — her mother-in-law snapped. — You’d better tell me: how are you going to live? On alimony? Ha! In court, Misha will only give you the minimum. Alright, I’m going now. Tomorrow we’ll come with the lawyer to sort out the registration.
The front door slammed so hard that the glass in the cabinet rattled. Alina sank onto the pouf and silently cried. Only three days had passed since Misha packed his suitcase and left to “think about our future.” And by the evening, he sent a message: “It’s over. I’m filing for divorce.”
Alina couldn’t believe her eyes or ears. Her husband had never complained, never yelled, never blamed her for anything. Of course, there had been quarrels — who doesn’t have them? But for him to just leave like this, without a single hint…
She wrote him a hundred messages, called, begged him to at least explain. But Misha seemed to have vanished — no response, no word. Only after a day did a cold message appear: “No money yet. Figure it out yourself.”
And now, her mother-in-law appeared on the doorstep. With threats and plans to take the apartment. The only thing that might offer some support in this new, frightening reality.
Alina wiped away her tears. She had to pull herself together. She definitely never claimed rights to the two-bedroom apartment her mother-in-law owned, where she and Misha had lived during the early years of their marriage. But the one-room apartment they bought was from the sale of Alina’s “grandmother’s apartment” plus Misha’s salary for a year. So, there was a chance to defend it.
But how was she supposed to go on? How to feed the children? Where to work after seven years of maternity leave?
Alinochka, maybe a sandwich? I made it with butter,” the neighbor, Anna Pavlovna, kindly pushed the plate toward her. “Eat, you need your strength.”
“Thank you, Anna Pavlovna,” Alina smiled as she sat at the table. “You’re already doing so much for us.”
The elderly neighbor turned out to be a real savior. When Alina, in desperation, was looking for any kind of side job, Anna Pavlovna offered to help with the children. At first, Alina hesitated and refused, but the pensioner was persistent:
“I can see, dear, how hard it is for you. My husband left me once too, only I had two children. I was widowed, not divorced, but the essence is the same — alone with the kids. Let me sit with yours for a couple of hours while you at least run around answering ads.”
Anna Pavlovna turned out to be a golden person. The children were calm and happy with her, and Alina had the chance to get a job as a cleaner at a large business center. The hours were convenient — from six to nine in the morning, while the children were still asleep. The pay was even good, enough for groceries and utilities.
The court ruled in Alina’s favor and awarded her the apartment with the children. Misha raged, threatened not to pay alimony, but he transferred the money regularly — apparently, the lawyer explained the consequences of evasion. Although the amount was minimal — just enough to avoid legal consequences.
“Anna Pavlovna, how did you manage? You know, when you were left alone?” Alina took a bite of the sandwich.
“Just like you are now,” the old lady sighed. “I worked three jobs. What else could I do? But you know what I’ll tell you? If you didn’t break, it means you’ve already won. Remember that, dear.”
The “Mercury” business center hummed like a giant beehive. While managers and directors sat in their offices, Alina methodically mopped the floors, wiped the windows, and took out the trash. No one paid much attention to her — just a shadow with a mop, a piece of the interior.
That morning she stayed longer than usual — the day before, the office on the twelfth floor had a corporate event, and it was complete chaos. As she was cleaning the wine-stained carpets, Alina heard loud voices from the neighboring office.
“Dmitry Andreevich, we’ve been working on this task for three months! The client will soon tell us where to go, and we’re still stuck,” an irritated male voice said.
“Calm down, Vlad,” answered another, deeper voice. “There must be a solution. We just need to approach it differently.”
“What approach? We’ve tried all the standard logistics systems, we’ve analyzed everything…”
“Maybe we need something non-standard?” the low voice continued. “Alright, let’s finish for today. I’ll look at these calculations tonight.”
Alina kept wiping the stains, but the conversation caught her attention. Before marriage and children, she had worked as a logistics specialist at a transportation company. Not in the highest position, but she knew enough about supply systems.
When the men left, she peeked into the office. On the huge whiteboard, there were supply diagrams, cost calculations, and some charts. Alina unconsciously read through it and suddenly realized the problem.
They were trying to optimize the logistics chain for a large retail network but hadn’t accounted for seasonality and regional specifics. They also used an outdated three-tier model instead of a ring model.
Almost without thinking, Alina took a marker and quickly sketched an alternative diagram. Then she realized — what was she doing? This wasn’t her job! If they found out that the cleaner was interfering, they might even fire her. She was about to erase everything, but then the man with the low voice — tall, with sharp gray eyes and early gray hair — returned to the office.
“Who are you?” he asked, surprised, glancing from Alina to the board and back.
“I… I was just cleaning,” she stammered, feeling herself blush. “Sorry, I’ll erase everything right now.”
“Wait,” he walked closer to the board. “Did you draw this?”
Alina nodded, preparing for a scolding.
“Interesting,” the man said, studying the diagram. “Do you understand what you’ve written here?”
“Of course,” Alina straightened up, surprising herself. “You’ve made a classic mistake in your calculations. You’re using a three-tier distribution model, and for this network, it’s ineffective. You need a ring model…”
She spoke for about five minutes, and with each word, the man’s eyes widened more.
“My name is Dmitry Andreevich,” he finally spoke when she finished. “I’m the head of logistics. And you…?”
“Alina,” she nervously adjusted her cleaning uniform. “Sorry for interfering.”
“Don’t apologize,” he smiled. “Where did you work before?”
“At ‘TransLogik,’ as a logistics specialist. But that was a long time ago, before my maternity leave.”
“And now?”
“Now…” she gestured toward the bucket and mop, “here.”
Dmitry Andreevich thoughtfully tapped his fingers on the table.
“You know what… Come to my office tomorrow at 10 a.m. We’ll talk.”
“I don’t understand, you want to quit your job?” Anna Pavlovna raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Alinochka, it’s tough right now, every penny counts!”
“It’s not quitting, it’s a promotion,” Alina smiled happily. “They offered me training and a position as an assistant to the logistics manager! With a decent salary, can you imagine?”
“Wow!” the neighbor clapped her hands. “And the children?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk about,” Alina lowered her eyes in embarrassment. “I’ll need to work from nine to six. I thought… maybe you’d agree to look after the kids for a fee? I’d pay you well, honestly!”
Anna Pavlovna thought for a moment, then nodded.
“Well, I’m not against it. My pension’s small, and I love kids. But one condition — I don’t have as much energy as before. So if I get tired, don’t be upset.”
“Of course! You can stop any time,” Alina hugged the elderly woman. “Thank you so much!”
Six months later, Alina’s life had changed beyond recognition. Not only had she returned to her profession, but she had thrived in it. Dmitry Andreevich turned out to be not only an excellent boss but also a thoughtful mentor. Noticing her talent for logistics schemes, he sent Alina to advanced courses and then entrusted her with an independent project.
“You know, this is a promotion,” he said when Alina successfully completed the project. “With your abilities, sitting as an assistant would be a crime.”
Now, she could afford not only groceries and clothes for the kids but also a good nanny. Anna Pavlovna even began to complain that Alina rarely brought the little ones over to her place.
“You’ve forgotten your old neighbor,” she grumbled, but there was pride in her eyes. “Look at you now — a business lady!”
Alina just laughed and promised to visit more often. She had really changed — she straightened her back, replaced her stretched-out t-shirts with elegant blouses, even dyed and cut her hair. The woman looking at her in the mirror was confident, not the weary single mother.
That day, Alina was coming back from the supermarket with full bags. Her new salary allowed her to stop saving on food, and now her cart had fresh fruits, quality cheeses, and good meat. The kids were thrilled with the changes, especially Masha, who had started to understand brands and was begging for the “right” yogurt.
“Alina?” A voice she would recognize anywhere made her freeze.
On the bench by the entrance stood Misha. He paled when he saw her. In his hands, he nervously held a paper bag with the restaurant’s logo.
“You… live here?” he croaked.
“Yes, imagine that,” Alina took the bag and pulled out her wallet. “Where do I sign?”
Misha looked terrible — gaunt, with dark circles under his eyes, in a worn-out jacket. The confident man who had left seven months ago to “think about the future” was nowhere to be found.
“You look… good,” he couldn’t take his eyes off her new hairstyle and silk robe.
“Thank you,” Alina handed over the payment. “Anything else?”
“Do you… work somewhere?” Misha shifted from foot to foot. “Mom said she saw you… changed.”
“Yes, I’m a logistics specialist at ‘Mercury.’ And you, I see, now… a courier?” Alina couldn’t resist asking. “What happened to your dream of becoming CEO?”
The man lowered his eyes.
“Anything can happen. Listen… I need to talk to you. Can I come in?”
Alina hesitated. Part of her wanted to slam the door in his face, but another part was too curious.
“Five minutes,” she stepped back, letting him in.
Misha looked around. The apartment had changed — new curtains, fresh renovation in the hallway, stylish furniture.
“You… everything’s good, I see,” he swallowed. “Listen, I need help. I have health problems, I need money for treatment.”
Alina put the food bag on the table.
“Problems? What kind?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he waved it off. “I just really need money. You can see where I’ve ended up — delivering food like a student. And Mom’s only on pension…”
“How much do you need?” Alina asked calmly.
“A hundred thousand, to start with,” Misha looked at her hopefully. “I’ll pay it back as soon as…”
“You know, I should thank you,” Alina said unexpectedly.
“For what?” he was stunned.
“For showing up. I had completely forgotten that I haven’t received alimony from you for three months. I’m going to court tomorrow with a petition.”
Misha’s face twisted.
“What? I’m asking you for help, and you…”
“And what?” Alina adjusted her robe belt. “You left me with three kids without explaining why. Never once asked how they were. You paid pennies, and then stopped altogether. And now you’re asking for money?”
“Those brats ruined my life!” Misha suddenly exploded. “You think I wanted kids? You had them! What was I supposed to do? Work for you and your brood? I was suffocating in this family!”
“Get out of my house,” Alina said quietly but firmly.
“What?” He took a step closer. “You owe me help! I was your husband! I…”
“You were. But no longer my husband,” Alina calmly opened the door. “Leave now.”
“You ungrateful girl!” he yelled. “You think now that you’ve found a rich guy…”
Alina stepped forward resolutely, pushed him in the chest with her hands, and shoved him out the door. It slammed shut, cutting off his stream of insults.
The phone rang almost immediately.
“Alinochka,” Anna Pavlovna’s anxious voice came through. “I hear your ex shouting in the hall. Are you okay?”
“Yes, everything’s fine,” Alina smiled. “He’s already gone.”
“Maybe the kids should stay with me a bit longer? We’re watching a cartoon, having tea…”
“Of course, let them stay,” Alina agreed. “I’ll bring some pastries I bought for tea. And you know what, Anna Pavlovna?”
“What, dear?”
“Thank you. For everything.”
Hanging up, Alina walked to the window. Below, Misha was still pacing by the entrance, lifting his head occasionally and then lowering it again. Finally, he trudged away, hunched over with his hands in his pockets.
Alina turned away from the window. Ahead of her was an evening with the kids and the kind neighbor, tomorrow — an exciting job and a new project, and on the weekend — a trip to the zoo, which she had promised the little ones.
Life continued. And it was beautiful.