Could you keep it down? Anastasia Petrovna, you know Pete has school tomorrow. Please, turn down the volume,” Lena asked from the next room.
“What, am I supposed to go to bed at ten in the evening now? I’m a pensioner and I have the right to watch TV!” grumbled Anastasia Petrovna, reluctantly lifting her head from the couch.
Lena felt as if she was in a cage, but her financial situation didn’t allow her to rent a separate place. She had to endure all the rules and orders set by the landlady.
When Lena divorced Konstantin, it seemed like her mother-in-law unleashed herself. All the wonderful moments that existed just eight months ago seemed to have been erased from her memory. She ‘forgot’ how she used to praise her daughter-in-law, calling her the most wonderful in the world.
Ten minutes later, Anastasia Petrovna finally turned down the volume, and Pete peacefully fell asleep. And Lena, as always, felt tears of despair rolling down her cheeks. She could not come to terms with the betrayal.
“Oh, Moscow, Moscow…” Lena sighed, remembering how she dreamed of moving to the capital. “Yes, dreams do come true,” she thought, looking out the large window where a birch tree swayed in the wind, as if confirming her thoughts.
Once, full of hope and joy, she believed Konstantin and moved to Moscow.
“Why is there such injustice in life?” Lena asked herself again.
One evening, returning from work, she found Konstantin at the entrance. His face showed that he was seriously concerned. He shifted from foot to foot, occasionally checking his phone.
“Have you been waiting long for me?” asked Lena, approaching unnoticed. Konstantin even flinched in surprise.
“Len…,” he began, nervously touching her hand and sighing heavily. His gaze met her light gray eyes.
“Len… I’ve fallen in love. Forgive me, but I can no longer live with you. You can stay with my mother for now. As long as it takes until you sort out the housing situation.”
Lena froze, unable to speak. She moved to the capital for him, dropped out of college, and now, left alone in a strange city with a child, she had to solve the housing issue.
“Have you thought about your son? I thought you loved us?” she asked, holding back tears.
“Of course, I love you! I’m ready to take care of you both. But I’ve already said everything I wanted to say. I’ve moved my stuff. Don’t think badly of me—these things happen,” Konstantin tried to justify himself.
“I will definitely help you,” he added, touching her hand again before quickly heading to the car.
Lena didn’t know what to answer or ask. She needed to comprehend what was happening. She sat down on a bench at the entrance and quietly cried. Now, holding back her emotions was impossible.
But she couldn’t cry for long—her son was waiting at home. Wiping her tears with her sleeve (she had no handkerchief), she entered the apartment. Anastasia Petrovna, noticing her state, silently walked to the kitchen.
“Mom’s home!” Peter joyfully shouted, rushing to Lena with hugs.
“Yes, my dear. I’ll change, and we’ll have dinner together,” Lena tried to speak calmly, although inside, bitterness was boiling.
Anastasia Petrovna also looked embarrassed. She didn’t know how to support her daughter-in-law and only muttered something unintelligible:
“It happens… Live here until you find suitable housing.”
These words echoed Konstantin’s phrases. After the breakup, Lena became increasingly anxious about the housing issue, especially as her mother-in-law became more irritable day by day.
Back in Omsk, Lena’s mother, Maria Ivanovna, regularly called her daughter, supporting her and urging her to come home.
One evening, as Lena and Pete were preparing for bed, a phone call disrupted the silence. It was her mother.
“Daughter,” Maria Ivanovna’s voice trembled. “I just found out… I can’t keep silent…”
“What happened, mom? Why are you crying? Tell me!” Lena asked anxiously.
“Your aunt… Lyubov Fedorovna… She died of a heart attack,” her mother sobbed.
Lena froze as if struck by lightning. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“You know, she had no one but us. We need to go to the funeral,” Maria Ivanovna continued, wiping her face with a handkerchief.
But then her voice carried unexpected notes of hope:
“Lena, dear… There’s a silver lining. I’m her direct heir. Now you’ll have your own apartment!”
“My dear aunt…” Lena whispered, unable to control her emotions.
Pete, noticing his mother’s distress, clung to her:
“Mom, what happened?”
“Everything’s okay, son,” she replied, hugging him, and continued talking to her mother.
“You need to be in St. Petersburg tomorrow. I’ll let you know as soon as I can fly out,” Maria Ivanovna said.
“We’ll resolve everything. And I think you’ll be able to move.”
Her aunt’s apartment was almost in the center of the city. Lyubov Fedorovna always seemed so energetic and cheerful. At sixty-two, she never complained about her health, often cheered Lena up, and repeated, “If I’m gone, come to St. Petersburg.” It seemed she had a premonition of her imminent departure.
That night, sleep eluded her. Lena thought about her aunt, about how they would be moving. Though there really wasn’t much to transport—there were few belongings. She had to decide about work and school for Pete.
Mixed feelings of grief and joy overwhelmed her. She understood that fate presents gifts, but sometimes the price of these gifts is too high.
Life is indeed full of paradoxes. Grief and joy often go hand in hand. Lena inherited a three-room apartment in Petersburg and her aunt’s savings, who had scrimped and saved every penny her entire life. Now they had a home that would be the start of a new life, filled with hopes and opportunities. But every step through that home would remind her of her beloved aunt, whose kindness and care remained in every detail of that space.