Lera pressed herself against the wall and tried to breathe as quietly as possible. The nurses were talking about her—who else could they judge so openly, without worrying they might be overheard? Of course, someone who would never answer back, never defend herself, never fight back.
“Did you hear? There’s a new trainee in the ENT department. Can you imagine? I wonder how Valeria feels, knowing her husband is cheating on her right there at work.”
“She doesn’t even have a mind of her own. And even if she did, who would care?”
Lera closed her eyes. Anyone else would have put those gossiping women in their place long ago. But she was not that kind of person. She lacked the resolve, the confidence, the inner strength.
Since childhood, she had been made to feel like an accident. Her parents had wanted a boy. Relatives even whispered that her father once tried to convince her mother to leave the newborn baby at the hospital. Whether it was true or not, Lera never found out. She never dared to ask.
At home, no one had ever cared about what she wanted. She wore what they bought for her, ate what they cooked, accepted gifts she did not like. Before she was even old enough for school, she had already learned one thing: she was worse than others, not as smart, and unwanted.
She used to love studying. From first grade on, she got top marks. But in high school, after glancing at her report card, her father said coldly,
“And what are you trying so hard for? You won’t become anything worthwhile anyway.”
Her desire to learn faded after that, but she kept going out of habit. Before graduation, she tried to speak to her parents about her future. Their answer was blunt:
“Apply wherever you want, just don’t count on us. You won’t succeed anyway. Every profession requires character, and you don’t have any.”
In spite of everything, Lera got into medical school. That was where she met Sasha. She fell in love so deeply that she had never experienced anything like it before. When he proposed, she proudly brought him home to meet her parents.
That night, after the visit, she accidentally overheard them talking.
“So, what do you think of Lera’s fiancé?”
“It’s obvious he loves her. For her, that’s convenient. Maybe it’s for the best—otherwise she probably never would have gotten married and would’ve stayed here like a shadow.”
Lera hid under the blanket and cried for a long time. By morning, she had calmed herself down, convincing herself that her parents simply did not understand what real feelings were.
As time passed, she realized she had been wrong about Sasha. He gave her very little attention, but she kept excusing him by telling herself he was busy.
After university and residency, Sasha stayed on at a prestigious clinic and soon became head of a department. Lera got a job there too, though in a different unit. She was a capable doctor and truly loved her work, yet she remained almost invisible.
The nurses often ignored her instructions, forcing her to repeat herself several times. To everyone around her, it was as if she barely existed.
The voices gradually died away. Lera let out a careful breath. She felt hurt and ashamed… though perhaps, she thought, she deserved it. She had known about her husband’s affairs and still changed nothing.
She simply went on living, doing what was expected of her, trying to be perfect and unnoticed. At staff meetings, she sat in the farthest corner and felt relieved when her department was not mentioned at all.
Valeria Pavlovna peeked into the corridor. Empty. There was only a little time left before the end of her shift. Tomorrow her vacation would begin. But she had nowhere to go—she planned to stay home and keep to herself.
For a moment, she thought about visiting her parents, but the memory of her last visit stopped her cold. Her father had asked,
“So when are we getting grandchildren?”
Then he added immediately,
“Though… you probably can’t even give birth.”
After that, she decided she would not go back.
“Valeria Pavlovna, you’re urgently needed in admissions!”
There were only ten minutes left in her shift. She sighed and went.
“Valeria, please take a look at this patient,” the department head asked. “It looks like poisoning, but something isn’t adding up.”
The girl was almost unconscious. Her mother was crying outside the door, and her father sat beside her in grim silence.
Four hours passed in tests and questions. In the end, the girl admitted that her friends had given her some unknown drink to try.
By the time everything was over, it was almost midnight.
Lera stepped outside and checked her phone. Not a single call from her husband. He simply did not care.
She decided to walk home. The streets were cold and deserted.
She walked slowly, thinking about her life. Her parents had never loved her. Her husband never valued her.
She remembered the girl from the hospital—how worried her parents had been, how grateful they were. And she herself had no children. Sasha always said, “It’s not the right time.” But when would that time ever come? She was already thirty-five…
Suddenly she stopped. She heard a strange sound—something like a weak cry.
She looked around. No one.
The sound was coming from the bushes.
She froze. Maybe it was an animal? But it would freeze out here…
Lera stepped closer—and let out a sharp cry.
There was a baby stroller hidden in the bushes.
She looked inside. There was a baby there.
Alive. Real.
She quickly lifted the child into her arms. The baby was crying softly—it was obvious she had been left there for a long time.
Without thinking, Lera ran out to the road, looked around, and saw no one.
Then she rushed back, grabbed the bag from the stroller, and ran home.
It was a little girl, about two months old. She was freezing and weak.
For nearly an hour, Lera warmed her, fed her, and wrapped her up.
From that moment on, her life changed.
She stood there holding her phone, unsure whom to call.
Soon, the baby was taken away.
“She’ll be hospitalized,” they told her. “After that, she’ll be sent to an orphanage.”
“Which hospital?” Lera asked.
“Petrovskaya.”
She did not sleep that night.
Just before dawn, Sasha came home.
“You’re still awake?” he asked in surprise.
“Where were you?”
He looked caught off guard.
“With friends. Do I have to report to you?”
“With that trainee?”
He looked away.
“Don’t make things up.”
She stared at him in silence.
He smelled of another woman’s perfume.
That night, she went to sleep in another room.
The next morning, he asked,
“What about breakfast?”
“Make it yourself.”
“Valeria!”
She answered calmly,
“Don’t shout. I haven’t done anything to deserve that.”
Three days passed.
“The little girl is doing better now,” the doctor said.
Lera barely left the child’s side.
“Can I stay with her?” she asked.
The doctor nodded.
Later, over tea, the woman said,
“You’ve never really lived your own life. Now you have a choice: change, or keep living the way you always have.”
“I’m scared…”
“That’s normal. But the decision is yours.”
That night, Lera read the messages from her husband—everything from pleading to threats.
The last message made her smile.
“Thank you, Sasha… now I know exactly what to do.”
Three years passed.
“Mom! There’s a puddle!”
“Careful!”
The little girl laughed.
Lera smiled too, then jumped right into the water with her daughter.
They both burst into laughter.
“Valeria?”
She turned around. Sasha was standing there.
“How are you?”
“Wonderful.”
He did not believe her.
“Mom! Grandpa!”
Sasha looked up and saw Lera’s father.
The man lifted his granddaughter into his arms and said calmly,
“Why are you standing there? Keep walking.”
Then he turned gently to his daughter.
“Come on, your mother is waiting.”
They walked away together.
Lera remembered how, three years earlier, she had said to her parents,
“Even if you don’t accept me, I’ll still leave and live on my own.”
Her father had stopped her.
“There’s no need to rent anything. We’re glad things turned out this way.”
And then he had added,
“Welcome home.”
And for the first time in her life, she understood what real love felt like.