Svetlana looked sadly at the moon, barely visible through the thick cover of misty clouds shimmering in its ghostly light. Her heart was full of pain — the last few months had turned into an endless eclipse for her since her husband disappeared. Life had become gray and joyless: colors had faded, and happiness had gone so far away that even the thought of it seemed impossible. Many had already said that Artyom was dead, that surviving a helicopter crash was impossible, but Svetlana desperately refused to accept it. She would have felt if the thread connecting their souls had been broken. But no — her heart not only ached, it called him, demanded to find and save him, unwilling to accept the death of her beloved.
Sometimes she just wanted to follow him if he really would not return. After all, they had sworn to be together in everything — in sorrow and in joy.
The silence was broken by a sudden rustle. Svetlana flinched and sharply turned around. To her amazement, her mother-in-law — Elena Andreyevna — approached from the gate like a predator going on the hunt. Cold fury and naked hatred were clear in her eyes. This woman had never hidden her dislike for her daughter-in-law. Even when Artyom announced he was getting married, she did not speak to her son for a long time. But he regretted nothing — insisting that love was more important and that his mother would definitely reconcile. Now, however, he was gone.
The air around thickened as if filled with weight. Each breath became harder to take. Svetlana remained sitting on the old swing, watching the woman who had become a symbol of constant tension for her approach.
“Brazen! How can you still stay here? How dare you look me in the eye? Don’t you understand this is all your fault? I already told you — pack your things and leave!”
“Elena Andreyevna, please… don’t start again. I’m staying here because I’m waiting for Artyom. I don’t want anything, no luxury… I just want him to come back to me.”
“How dare you say that? You know he won’t come back! His body wasn’t found, but my son is no more! You took away my only treasure, but you won’t get his property! Get out of here! Free the house!”
“All you care about is the property? Seriously? You feel it, don’t you? Your son is alive. He will definitely come back. I understand your pain, it’s hard for me too. We both love one person: you as a mother, and I as a wife. Why should we be enemies now?”
Svetlana looked at her mother-in-law, tears streaming down her cheeks. Inside, a feeling of resentment and pain grew. Elena Andreyevna had always hated her, and now, after her son’s disappearance, that hatred only intensified. Svetlana couldn’t understand why the woman blamed her. She loved Artyom with all her heart, and his disappearance destroyed her life no less than his mother’s. Why add pain to pain? What gives strength to blame? Maybe it helps Elena Andreyevna cope with her loss? Maybe by driving Svetlana away, she will at least ease her grief a little?
“You never loved my son, so don’t pretend to mourn like a widow! You got involved with him for status, for money. You knew you could count on a comfortable life. That’s why you married him. I always knew that. And now, hypocrite, you’re waiting for him to be declared dead so you can get the inheritance. Tell me I’m wrong? I won’t believe a single word you say!”
Each breath caused new pain. Svetlana understood — words were powerless. They would not change Elena Andreyevna’s view. She had long convinced herself of her own righteousness. To her, her daughter-in-law was just a greedy fortune hunter who never had real feelings for Artyom. Elena judged by herself: once she chose a profitable husband, gave up love, and endured for years a man she didn’t love. She didn’t want that fate for her son and advised him to marry for business, power, and wealth. When he disobeyed and chose love, her motherly heart did not accept that choice. And now, with her son missing, she convinced herself that it all happened because of that marriage.
“How can you say that?” Svetlana whispered. “I didn’t just love your son — I still love him. And I believe he will return. He will definitely come back. They say miracles don’t happen, but Artyom proved otherwise more than once. He loves me, so he won’t leave me alone. Especially now… I’m pregnant. He doesn’t know yet, but he will find out — because he will come back.”
Elena Andreyevna went pale. For a moment, the world turned upside down. She didn’t know that Svetlana was expecting a child. Now everything was changing. If the woman really carried her son’s heir, Elena could not simply drive her away. Until the child was born, she would have to tolerate her daughter-in-law. After — she would take the baby and provide a worthy life, and offer Svetlana to leave. Forever.
Suppressing a flash of anger, the woman shuddered at the very thought of leaving this liar under her roof. But she pulled herself together, straightened her back, and looked at Svetlana with contempt.
“If you’re lying about the pregnancy, you’ll regret it. Although… you can stay until the birth. If it’s confirmed that the child is mine — I’ll take him. And you… will leave. I won’t tolerate you. Artyom won’t come back — understand this once and for all. Stop clinging to foolish hopes. I didn’t even get to make peace with him… It’s your fault. Because of you, I couldn’t tell him that I stopped being angry, that by not accepting you, I accepted him — my son.”
With these words, Elena Andreyevna wiped tears from her face, abruptly turned, and left. Svetlana could no longer hold back her sobs — the pain burst out in loud, inconsolable tears. Through her crying, she looked at the sky, wondering: why was she given such a trial? Maybe she believed too early in a fairy tale where the princess lives happily ever after with her beloved? Maybe her mother-in-law was right, and Artyom really wouldn’t return? And if so — how to protect the child if Elena Andreyevna carries out her threat?
Pressing her palm to her belly, Svetlana closed her eyes and silently began to pray — that everything would be fine with the baby, that Artyom would return as soon as possible.
Time in waiting for a miracle flew swiftly, but the miracle itself did not happen. Until Artyom was officially declared dead, the inheritance could not be divided, yet the pressure from her mother-in-law increased every day. Svetlana realized she could no longer stay in the house where she and her husband had been happy. Every corner there reminded her of the past, of love, of lost time.
She could have defended her right to live in this house — the law was on her side, but Sveta always had a gentle nature. She was poor at understanding legal intricacies and feared that Elena Andreyevna, using her connections, could deprive her not only of the house but also of the child. So Svetlana packed her things and left for her native village. There, in her grandmother’s old house, she began a new life. Artyom knew this place — if he was alive, he would definitely find her. And if not… then she would tell their son what a kind, strong, and loving father he had.
Every day the woman prayed to the heavens for the return of her beloved but felt the light of hope gradually fading. It still flickered but gave almost no warmth.
She had some small savings to get through the first time, but soon Svetlana decided she had to work. After the child’s birth, she planned to get a job at the local school. Fortunately, many acquaintances remained in the village who supported the young mother and were ready to help, to look after the baby while she was busy.
Svetlana gave birth to a healthy, strong boy and named him Kirill — the very name Artyom once chose for their son. Leaving the house, looking at the sky, the woman addressed her husband. Time passed, but the question remained the same: was he alive? And would she ever be able to look into his eyes again?
Three years passed. Kirill grew up a smart, kind child, disproving stereotypes that boys develop more slowly than girls. At just three, he tried to help his mother, tidied up toys, never fussed, even diligently “helped” gather the harvest in the garden.
“A real miracle, not a child!” neighbors admired.
Indeed — in every movement of little Kirill, Svetlana recognized Artyom. The boy was his exact copy, and no one could suspect he wasn’t his father’s son.
Some advised Svetlana to apply for a survivor’s pension — it would ease her life. But the woman was afraid to take this step. For her, it would mean accepting Artyom was dead, finally letting him go. Hope, however weak, was the only thing she had left.
“Years have passed,” a neighbor said, stroking Sveta’s hand. “He won’t come back. It’s time to accept it.”
“No! I can’t stop waiting. I’ll manage, thank you.”
“You’re too stubborn. Look around — so many men are interested in you. Life goes on; Kirill should have a father!”
Svetlana knew the neighbor meant well, perhaps trying to find a match for her. But for her, no other men existed. No one could ever replace Artyom. Her love for him would stay with her to the end.
Elena Andreyevna never found her daughter-in-law, and that somewhat calmed Svetlana. Now she could stand up for herself and would never give up her son but didn’t want to face hatred again. Though sometimes she wondered — did her grandson have the right to know his grandmother?
One warm May day, during a class where Svetlana was teaching, the school’s cafeteria lady, Zoya, ran in. Breathing heavily, clutching her heart with trembling hands:
“Svetka, let the kids go, hurry home!”
“Is something wrong with Kirill?”
The woman’s heart pounded with fear.
“A man came to see you. Tall, respectable, light-haired, a scar on his face… He says he’s back for his wife.”
At these words, Svetlana nearly lost the power of speech. Tears of joy streamed down her cheeks, but the fear of being wrong was stronger than everything. Grabbing a handkerchief, she ran out of the school and hurried home, not noticing the dirt under her feet. When she saw him — the very man she had waited for all these years — emotions burst out, and she fainted.
When she came to in her room, the woman felt Artyom firmly holding her hand. She couldn’t believe it was reality.
“Is it true? Not a dream? You really came back?”
“I’m here. Here, with you and our son. I won’t leave anymore. After the accident, I woke up in the forest, remembered nothing. One man, a hermit, helped me survive. We gathered herbs together; I lived with him, but every evening I thought of someone important. In dreams, I saw you but couldn’t remember your face. Only recently did my memory return. I immediately went to look for you. Mom said you were pregnant and left, but they couldn’t find you. I knew where to look and really hoped you were still waiting for me.”
Artyom kissed Svetlana on the forehead, and she hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go. She was even afraid to close her eyes, lest she wake up and realize it was only a dream.
As soon as the school year ended, the family returned home. During these years of loneliness, Elena Andreyevna realized many things. If Svetlana hadn’t truly loved her son, she wouldn’t have waited so long, wouldn’t have remained faithful, and would have long since remarried. Accepting her daughter-in-law was not easy, but now her motherly love for her son and grandson outweighed everything.
The road ahead was not easy, but Svetlana and Artyom knew: they would overcome everything because they were each other’s support and light.