– Are you sure? – Dmitry looked at his wife intently. – This is the same mother-in-law who ruined your life.
– The very same, – Yana sat down beside her husband on the couch. – I have to do this. Not for her – for myself.
– I’m coming, I’m coming, oh, this is so hard… – a voice from behind the door trembled. – Wait a minute, I’ll open it now.
There was the slow shuffle of footsteps from inside the apartment. After several long moments, the door finally opened. Yana stepped into the hallway and froze: on the doorstep stood an unfamiliar old woman in a worn-out robe. She leaned heavily against the wall, breathing laboriously, as if she had just climbed a steep hill.
– Yanochka! – she exclaimed in the voice of her former mother-in-law. – I was afraid you wouldn’t come! Come into the kitchen, – Klara Antonovna went ahead, continuing to lean against the wall. – It’s more comfortable to talk there.
– What happened to you? Are you sick?
– A stroke, a month ago. I thought I could handle it myself, but… – Klara Antonovna almost collapsed into a kitchen chair. – You’re a nurse, you know how it is.
– Are you here alone? – Yana looked around the abandoned apartment. – What about Gennady? Didn’t he come? Isn’t he helping?
– Gena’s in Germany, you know that. With Vlada, she has a scientific career, they don’t have time for an old woman, – Klara Antonovna lowered her eyes. – The rest… Some are retired, some are sick. That’s why no one comes. Yanochka, I need help, I can’t handle all this by myself. I know I have no right to ask, but… There’s no one else.
– At your command, Gena left me, what do you want from me now? – asked the former daughter-in-law in an icy tone.
An oppressive silence hung in the kitchen. Only the drip of water from a leaking faucet could be heard – steady and hollow, like it was counting the seconds of this strange visit.
Yana looked closely at her former mother-in-law. Where had that proud, authoritative head of the hospital gone? Before her now sat a small, hunched old woman. Her graying hair was carelessly gathered in a bun, her eyes were confused, and there was something like fear in them.
The previous evening, after receiving a message from her former mother-in-law asking her to come, Yana read the text several times. Her former mother-in-law hadn’t communicated with her for over ten years – since the day Gennady announced their divorce. Her first instinct had been to delete the message and forget about it. But something in those lines – either the unusual “Yanochka” or the request for forgiveness – made her stop.
– What should I do with you now? – Yana quietly asked, looking at her former mother-in-law.
Yana closed her eyes, and the past rushed back in a wave of memories. The hospital corridor, the smell of bleach, and her – a young nurse, just out of school. That was when she first appeared in the department where Gennady worked – tall, serious, in a pristine white coat. A young doctor, fresh out of his residency, the son of the department head.
– Nurse, please prepare the dressing room, – every morning began with these words.
She didn’t fall in love right away – it happened gradually, almost unnoticed by herself. His calmness, his attention to patients, his gentle smile… Gennady also started staying on the ward more often, supposedly filling out charts. Then he invited her to the movies.
Klara Antonovna accepted their romance coldly. She often brought up how important it was for her son to focus on his career, hinting that he should be thinking about defending his PhD. Yana tried not to pay attention – she believed that love would overcome everything.
The first time after their wedding was happy. They lived in a small rented apartment. Both worked a lot, especially Yana. Gennady combined his work with writing his dissertation. Yana tried to support him, set up their home so that he would be comfortable, so he wouldn’t have to worry about anything.
Things started to change a year later when Klara Antonovna decided to create a new family tradition – weekly family dinners – “so he wouldn’t forget his mother.” Gennady couldn’t refuse.
At one of these dinners, Vladislava appeared – a young doctor from a neighboring department, the daughter of Klara Antonovna’s long-time colleague. Yana immediately noticed how her mother-in-law perked up:
– Vlada, tell Gena about your dissertation! Gena, can you believe it? She’s already publishing her third article in an international journal.
Since then, Vladislava became a regular guest at family dinners. Yana went to them less and less – she didn’t want to see how her mother-in-law praised the young colleague’s success, how Gennady eagerly discussed the latest medical research with her.
Then Vladislava got a grant to do an internship in Germany. A week later, Gennady filed for divorce. He didn’t even try to explain – he just said:
– Sorry. This will be better for everyone.
The sound of dripping water snapped Yana out of her trance.
– Tell me, what happened to you? – she asked more gently.
– A month ago… I woke up in the morning, tried to get up – and couldn’t. The right side wouldn’t move. Thankfully, my phone was nearby, so I managed to call an ambulance.
– Why didn’t you write to me right away?
– What would you have said? – Klara Antonovna bitterly smiled. – I thought I could manage. They put me in the hospital where I worked my whole life. Everyone was so attentive, so considerate – after all, I was the former head! But once they discharged me, I became nobody. I hired a caregiver – but she ran away after three days. She said it was too hard for her.
Yana’s phone rang in her pocket. The screen displayed: “Dima.”
– Excuse me, I’ll answer. Hello? Yes, darling. No, I’ll be a little late. Of course, I’ll buy it. And I kiss you.
Yana smiled, remembering how she met Dmitry. After the divorce, she switched to working at a private clinic – it was impossible to work under her former mother-in-law. One day, Dmitry brought his father in for an examination. Tall, broad-shouldered, he seemed so lost in the hospital corridors… She helped him with the paperwork, showed him where to go. A week later, he came back – with a bouquet of flowers and an invitation to dinner.
– Did everything work out for you? – Klara Antonovna quietly asked.
– Yes. Dima… He’s completely different, he knows exactly what he wants, and how to get it. Our daughter is already eight. We’re expecting our second one.
– Second? – Her mother-in-law flinched. – And here I am with my problems…
– Four months, – Yana said with a tender smile, placing her hand on her stomach.
– Yanochka, forgive me, – Klara Antonovna’s voice trembled. – I destroyed everything – your marriage and my life. Gena… He rarely calls now. With Vlada, there’s a career, conferences. And he… Well, he’s building a career too, working a lot. He doesn’t have time. He’s become a stranger.
Yana looked at the hunched figure in the worn robe and thought about the twists of fate. Once, this woman had destroyed her life, and now she was asking for help. Back then, it had seemed like the world had crashed. But it turned out that divorce had led her to real happiness.
– Let’s look at your discharge papers, – Yana resolutely pushed the folder with medical documents toward her. – We need to figure out exactly what you need. And we’ll find a proper caregiver.
– You… will help?
– I’ll help, as much as I can. After all, I’m a nurse, even if unfinished.
Klara Antonovna flinched… That’s how she used to refer to Yana when talking to her son: “Well, what do you want with this simpleton? An unfinished nurse. She couldn’t even get a proper education. Unlike Vlada.”
That evening, Yana recounted the conversation to her husband.
– Are you sure? – Dmitry looked at his wife intently. – This is the same mother-in-law who…
– The very same, – Yana sat down beside him on the couch. – I have to do this. Not for her – for myself.
– What about the child? And you’ve got work…
– Dima, I’m not going to be a caregiver or spend evenings there. I’ll just help organize the care, find the right specialist. I’ll visit sometimes to check – after all, I’m a nurse, I know what should be done. Well, if no one else will… I can’t just leave her.
A week later, Yana brought a new caregiver to Klara Antonovna – an older, calm woman with experience in post-stroke care.
– Here, meet her. She’s very experienced, will handle everything. She’ll be with you all day, helping with whatever you need, – Yana explained, placing the medications on the table according to their schedule. – I’ve arranged for a nurse to come in the mornings for injections. I’ll visit from time to time.
Klara Antonovna nodded silently, nervously crumpling the napkin in her fingers. Yana could physically feel how hard it was for this proud woman to accept help from someone she had once deemed unworthy of her son.
Gradually, life began to take on a new rhythm. Yana really did visit from time to time – to check everything was okay, talk, ask if anything was needed. One day, in the middle of winter, she and Klara Antonovna truly had a conversation.
– Gena called yesterday, – her mother-in-law thoughtfully looked at her tea cup. Outside the window, snow was falling slowly, wrapping the city in white silence. – Vlada got a new position, now she’ll be in charge of the department. And he… He’s also doing well, it seems. But he still lives in her shadow.
– But that’s what you wanted, right? For him to be with a successful woman, with serious prospects.
– I wanted… – Klara Antonovna bitterly smiled. – I spent my whole life building everything according to certain templates. First my own – you know, I once had to choose between love and career. I chose career. Then I raised Gena the way I thought was right. And now… – she looked around the kitchen. – Now I sit here alone in an empty apartment. My son’s far away, calls rarely, like it’s out of obligation. Doesn’t even ask about my health. There are no grandchildren, and it seems there won’t be any – Vlada has no time, she’s all about science.
Yana stayed silent, looking out at the snow-covered yard. Snowflakes swirled in the light of the streetlamps. For some reason, she remembered how she and Gennady used to sit at this same kitchen table, making plans, dreaming about children…
– Are you happy, Yanochka? – suddenly asked Klara Antonovna.
– Yes, – Yana simply replied. – Dima… He’s the real thing. You know, he never aimed to be the best, the first, the most successful. He just does his job, cares for the family. He listens to advice, but always decides for himself. The way he wants to. The way we want.
– Gena couldn’t make decisions for himself, – Klara Antonovna slowly said. – That’s how I raised him. I made all the decisions for him. Then I wondered why he was so… convenient. First, I controlled him, now it’s Vlada.
Outside the window, dusk was settling in. Somewhere on the street, children’s laughter could be heard – probably the neighbor kids making a snowman. Yana placed her hand on her stomach – her son or daughter would one day play carefree in the snow too.
– I didn’t realize what I had done at first, – Klara Antonovna’s voice trembled. – When they left for Germany, I was still proud – I thought I had arranged everything so well. But then… Then I started to understand. With each call from him, with each visit, I saw – it wasn’t right. Nothing was right. But pride wouldn’t let me admit my mistake. And now… – she nodded at her half-paralyzed hand. – Now it’s too late to change anything.
– You know, – Yana stood up and began gathering the cups from the table, – I couldn’t forgive you for a long time. Not for the divorce – for how you treated me. As if I wasn’t a person, just an empty space. But in some ways… – she paused, choosing her words. – I guess I should say thank you.
– For what? – Klara Antonovna raised her eyebrows in confusion.
– For the way things turned out. If it weren’t for that divorce, I wouldn’t have Dima, or my daughter, or this new life.
Klara Antonovna stared at the falling snow for a long time, then slowly turned to her former daughter-in-law.
– And I think… Maybe, if I had let Gena choose his own path back then, he would have been happier? Maybe not as successful, but… – she didn’t finish, but Yana understood.
By the beginning of spring, Klara Antonovna’s condition had improved significantly, although it was still far from perfect. She lived according to a well-established routine: in the mornings, the nurse from the clinic, in the afternoons, the caregiver, who not only helped with the housework but also did therapeutic exercises with the patient. Yana sometimes visited, but as her belly grew, less frequently.
Klara Antonovna had noticeably gained strength. She started walking around the apartment by herself. She even went outside, though with a cane. The house was cleaner – the caregiver turned out to be a good housekeeper.
– You must continue the exercises, – Yana closely examined the results of the latest tests. – How are you feeling today?
– Better. Would you like some tea? – Klara Antonovna’s voice held a barely hidden hope. – Tell me how the daughter is, how the baby?
– Thank you, but I have to go. Dima’s waiting, – Yana smiled and started gathering her things.
Her mother-in-law’s eyes briefly flashed with disappointment, but she only nodded:
– Of course, go. Thank you.
Klara Antonovna watched out the window as Yana walked away. Everything had been arranged properly – both the care and the treatment. Yana came regularly, always pleasant. But… It was so little. She wanted more than just help – she wanted warmth, involvement, the chance to be a part of someone’s life. To hear about grandchildren – even if they weren’t hers, to share her worries, simply talk heart-to-heart.
But did she have the right to ask for that? After everything she had done?
In the evenings, when the caregiver went home, the silence pressed down on her shoulders. The phone was silent – Gennady called rarely, mostly on holidays. Klara Antonovna understood: this emptiness was the price of her own decisions. Once, she had destroyed someone else’s happiness for the sake of ambition. And now… Now, she had to accept that some things couldn’t be fixed, no matter how much she wanted to.
The snow was almost melted by the time Yana once again climbed the familiar staircase. The caregiver had called in the morning – Klara Antonovna’s blood pressure had risen.
– How are you? – Yana habitually examined her patient.
– Better now, – Klara Antonovna watched her former daughter-in-law’s precise movements. – Gena called today. Vlada got some kind of award…
– That’s good.
– Yes. Probably… – she paused. – When are you going on maternity leave?
– In a month.
– So, you won’t be coming anymore?
– I’ll send a nurse from my clinic. She’s a good specialist.
A silence filled the room, broken only by the still-leaking faucet. Outside, sparrows chirped cheerfully – spring was growing stronger.
Yana glanced sideways at her mother-in-law. She seemed to have aged immediately, looked thinner after their short conversation. Probably hoping… For what? That something would change after these months? That they would become closer? Like family?
No. You can learn to forgive, but some things can’t be pieced together again. Yana caught her reflection in the window – a young woman with a neat belly, happy with her happiness. Everything was right. Everyone has their own road.
– I’ll go now, – Yana gathered the drip. – If you need anything, call.
Klara Antonovna nodded without lifting her eyes. In the empty apartment, another long evening awaited her – with memories, regrets, and the realization that the past couldn’t be returned. And at home, Yana was awaited by a loving husband, a daughter, and a new life growing inside her. Two different worlds, which had once accidentally crossed paths – and then parted forever.