Suddenly, an outburst of a telephone call burst into the morning silence, shattering the peace of the bedroom. With great effort, Marina forced her heavy, sleep-fused eyes open and reached out to the bedside table. The screen lit up with the name “Aunt Zina.” Her heart involuntarily tightened – their last conversation had taken place over a year ago during a scandalous scene at Grandma’s birthday.
“Hello,” she croaked, clearing her throat of the night’s dryness.
“Marinushka! For heaven’s sake, don’t hang up!” Aunt Zina’s voice carried an unfamiliar softness. “I understand there were tense moments between us… But Uncle Petya and I are planning to visit Novosibirsk in a week. Do you mind if we stay with you for a day or two?”
Marina sat up abruptly, shaking her head to fully wake. Instantly, images of that long-ago conflict flashed before her eyes.
“When will you finally think about marriage?” Aunt Zina had thundered back then, unashamed of her loudness. “At your age, I’ve already raised two children! And you’re still out there on your own, only thinking about your career. How selfish you are! Grandma will never see her grandchildren because of you!”
“Aunt Zina, I…” Marina began, but then hesitated. “I don’t live in Novosibirsk anymore. I moved.”
“What do you mean, moved? Where to?” Aunt Zina’s voice again took on a commanding tone.
“To Krasnoyarsk. Three months ago.”
A long, silent pause filled the line, heavy with unspoken surprise.
“And you deliberately kept this from your dear aunt?” Aunt Zina fumed. “And does your mother know?”
“Of course she knows,” Marina replied, feeling a wave of anxiety rising inside. “I just needed to start everything over, with a clean slate.”
“Oh, is that so?” Aunt Zina drawled. “Alright, but we’re still stopping by. Uncle Petya has long wanted to see Krasnoyarsk. And Dimka and Nastya, your cousins, also want to see you…”
“Aunt Zina, no!” Marina nearly screamed. “I’m having renovations!”
“What renovations? We can even sleep on the floor,” Aunt Zina dismissed.
“Really, please, no,” Marina pleaded. “I’m too busy. And the apartment is so small…”
But Aunt Zina wasn’t listening anymore, continuing to speak to Uncle Petya. The connection then abruptly dropped.
The following seven days turned into an endless ordeal for Marina. She kept thinking about her aunt’s nature: once she set her mind to something, no obstacle could stop her. The phone rang incessantly, yet she methodically ignored every call.
Then the worst happened. One Saturday morning at seven, a message arrived: “We’re standing outside your building. Come down, help with the things.”
Marina was stunned. They must have found her old address in Novosibirsk. Her fingers trembled as she typed, “I told you – I’m in Krasnoyarsk!”
A minute later, a response came, followed by an angry call.
“Where are you roaming, irresponsible? We’ve been waiting outside your apartment for an hour!” Aunt Zina’s voice shouted, presumably already at the door.
There was a loud crash on the phone – apparently, Aunt Zina had indeed reached Marina’s old apartment and was now pounding on the door.
“Open immediately! I know full well that you’re home!” came a demanding voice over the phone.
Suddenly, all sounds ceased, and Marina heard a strange male voice:
“What nerve is this? What kind of Marina is this? I’ve been living in this apartment for six months!”
“What do you mean, living there?” Aunt Zina gasped in shock. “Where’s Marina?”
“I’ve never heard of any Marina. If you don’t stop that noise, I’ll call the police!” the stranger snapped.
The line went dead. Marina instinctively switched off the phone and collapsed onto her bed. She was trembling, her pulse pounding loudly in her temples. In her mind, she pictured the scene: Aunt Zina, with huge suitcases, standing at someone else’s door while Uncle Petya tried to calm her down. Dimka and Nastya were probably hiding off to the side, embarrassed by the unfolding chaos…
Marina turned her phone back on only by the evening. Thirty-six missed calls from her aunt, seventeen from her mother, and dozens of messages in various messengers. The first thing she did was call her mom.
“What a show you put on,” her mother said wearily. “Aunt Zina is in such a hysteria now, insisting to everyone that you deliberately deceived them.”
“Mom, I warned them not to come,” Marina replied softly. “You understand how she… pressures me.”
Her mother sighed deeply:
“I understand. But still, they’re family.”
“Family shouldn’t cause pain,” Marina firmly retorted. “I’m tired of hearing that I’m ‘wrong,’ that I should get married, have children, and forget about my career… I’m different, and that’s okay.”
A deep silence fell over the line, so profound that Marina could almost hear her mother’s breathing.
“You’re right,” her mother unexpectedly admitted. “I’ve long wanted to tell you this… I’m sorry I didn’t protect you from Aunt Zina’s onslaught. It’s just… she’s the older sister, and I always used to obey her. My whole life, she commanded, and I just nodded.”
Marina choked up:
“Thank you, Mom. You have no idea how important that is to me.”
“You know,” her mother’s voice trembled, “I once dreamed too… I wanted to enroll in theater. But Aunt Zina declared it ‘not serious,’ that I should think about marriage. And I married your father at nineteen…”
“Do you regret it?”
“No, not at all! You came – that was the most important thing in my life. But sometimes I wonder: what if I had insisted on my own way? Maybe I would have acted on stage and had you. It doesn’t have to be an either/or.”
Marina smiled through tears:
“You know, Mom, it’s never too late to try. There are always actors needed in a folk theater.”
“Well, at my age…”
“And remember what you told me as a child? ‘Never say it’s too late; say it’s time.’”
Krasnoyarsk welcomed her with a gentle autumn. Her new job at an IT company completely absorbed her attention – she dove enthusiastically into projects, signed up for web design courses, and in the evenings strolled along the Yenisei embankment, discovering the new city that was gradually becoming her home.
At the office, she was considered strange: she didn’t join group smoke breaks, didn’t gossip by the coffee machine, and never complained about life. Instead, she worked late into the night studying new technologies or sat in a meeting room with headphones on, taking online courses.
“You’re exactly like a machine,” remarked Svetlana from accounting one day. “Only work and nothing else. When will you decide to just live?”
Marina merely shrugged. It was hard for her to explain that she was finally beginning to feel truly alive – free from the pressure of others’ expectations.
At the beginning of winter, a new specialist arrived in their department – Gleb. Tall, somewhat clumsy, but with a warm gaze and an incredible sense of humor, he never asked about her marital status, never mentioned the need to ‘settle down.’ One day, he simply left a donut on her desk:
“You missed lunch today. And a brain works worse without glucose.”
Later, they met in a local supermarket nearby – it turned out they lived in neighboring entrances. Gleb was holding a huge bag of cat food.
“Three pets,” he admitted with a slight awkwardness. “I rescued them from a shelter; I couldn’t choose just one.”
To her own surprise, Marina told him everything: the story about Aunt Zina, her move to Krasnoyarsk, her fear of being herself. They spent the night together on a bench in the courtyard, freezing but filled with the joy of newfound closeness, realizing that one can speak freely and be heard.
Gradually, their weekends began to be spent together. They strolled through the snow-covered city, made humorous breakfasts, watched old films wrapped in blankets. Gleb taught her snowboarding, and she taught him how to use a graphic editor. They both learned the most important thing – to trust each other.
In the spring, they went to meet Gleb’s parents. Marina was anxious – her past had taught her to fear others’ judgments. However, Gleb’s mother simply hugged her and said:
“You are so charming. And your eyes are so wise. Gleb is incredibly lucky.”
That evening, while they sipped tea on the veranda, Gleb’s father asked:
“Why did you choose Krasnoyarsk?”
Marina tensed, but he continued:
“I, too, once left everything behind and moved. It was the best decision of my life. Sometimes, you need to save yourself, don’t you think?”
In the summer, they had a wedding. No extravagant celebration – they simply registered their relationship at the registry office and organized a picnic by the Yenisei with close friends. Mom flew in from Novosibirsk and embraced them both:
“You are so happy…”
Of course, Aunt Zina sent a series of indignant messages: “Not even inviting family to your own wedding! What disgrace! And was the dress at least white? Or, as is trendy now, did you marry in jeans?”
Marina did not reply. She was indeed wearing her favorite jeans with her own embroidered design, a white blouse, and a wreath of wildflowers. And that was perfect to her.
Mom stayed in Krasnoyarsk for a week. One evening, settled on the balcony of their apartment with Gleb, she suddenly announced:
“I’ve enrolled in a theater studio.”
“What?!” Marina almost knocked over her tea in surprise.
“Yes, just taking classes in stage speech for now. But you know… it feels as if wings are beginning to grow.”
They fell silent, watching the sunset over the Yenisei.
“And Aunt Zina?” Marina asked.
“I haven’t told her anything,” Mom winked with a mysterious smile. “I’m learning to be free, just like you.”
In the fall, Marina was promoted – she became the art director at her company. Now she had her own team, her own projects, her own successes and failures. She learned to say “no” when needed and “yes” when her heart demanded it.
Gleb always supported her decisions. When doubts overwhelmed her, he simply hugged her and said:
“You’ll manage. You are incredibly strong to me.”
And she truly managed.
In December, a message arrived from Nastya, her cousin: “You know, you were right to leave. I too want to find my own way. Mom is beside herself – insisting that decent girls don’t choose directing. But I no longer want to be just ‘decent.’ I want to be happy.”
Marina smiled and replied, “Come over. Just keep it a secret from Aunt Zina – you decide everything. By the way, I’ve got a spare couch.”
Nastya arrived a week later – with a backpack full of fears and hopes. They talked long into the night – about dreams, about the right to be oneself, about how family isn’t just those who raised you, but those who help you grow.
“You know,” Nastya confessed before sleep, “I used to think you were selfish. But now I understand – you’re simply brave.”
In the spring, Marina discovered she was pregnant. It happened naturally, without any clear plans. It was simply the right time.
Somehow, Aunt Zina found out about the news – apparently through mutual acquaintances. After two years of silence, she called:
“Finally, you’ve started living correctly!” she declared triumphantly. “I told you – the main purpose of a woman…”
Marina gently interrupted:
“Aunt Zina, I haven’t started ‘living correctly.’ I’m just living. And I will have a child not because it’s expected, but because I want to. I will raise my child in my own way.”
“How dare you…” Aunt Zina began.
“I dare,” Marina replied firmly. “And you know what? I’m grateful to you.”
“For what?” Aunt Zina was taken aback.
“For showing me an example of who not to be. Every one of your reproaches made me stronger. Every condemnation bolstered my confidence in my own choices. Thank you for that.”
And she hung up.
Now, in the evenings, she sits with Gleb on the balcony, sipping tea and making plans. Plans about travels, about the future child’s room, about how they will teach their child to be oneself. Mom visits every month – she performs in folk theater and literally glows with joy. Nastya enrolled in the directing faculty and makes short films. And Aunt Zina… Well, everyone has their own fate.
Sometimes you have to go far away to understand who you are. Sometimes you need to break old ties to create new, genuine ones. And sometimes you just need to allow yourself to be yourself, even if it displeases someone.
Marina often remembers the girl who, two years ago, left her hometown, avoiding others’ expectations. How frightened and lost she was. If she could speak to that girl from the future, she would say, “Hang in there, baby. Everything will be fine. Better than you can imagine.”
Then she strokes her noticeably rounded belly and whispers:
“And you, little one, will never be forced to be ‘correct.’ I promise.