Anna wiped her hands with a towel, admiring the bouquet of white roses she had just arranged for a regular client. Outside, an October drizzle fell, while inside the shop it smelled of freshness and life — that’s how she always described the complex scent of flowers. Three years ago, she couldn’t have imagined she would know so much about varieties, which flowers last longer, and which are fussy about water and temperature.
The chime over the door announced a customer, but it was Mikhail, her husband. He usually came by rarely, preferring to handle things over the phone.
“Hi, how are you?” He kissed her on the cheek, but she sensed a tension in his voice.
“Good, I’ve already sold the fifth bouquet today. By the way, Mrs. Kovalyova ordered another arrangement for her table — she says only our flowers last more than a week.”
Mikhail nodded absentmindedly, as if not really listening. Anna recognized that look — something was bothering him. Over twelve years of marriage, she had learned to read his moods from the smallest details: how he furrows his brow, presses his lips, avoids eye contact when preparing for an unpleasant conversation.
“Anya, we need to have a serious talk,” he said, sitting down on a chair near the counter. “About the shop.”
Anna’s heart skipped a beat. She put down the scissors and turned to him fully.
“What about the shop?”
“You know it’s… well, not exactly unprofitable, but it doesn’t really make much profit either. We’ve been supporting it for three years, but it still hasn’t broken even.”
“Misha, what are you trying to say?” Her voice trembled.
Mikhail sighed and looked toward the display window.
“Katya has problems. She divorced Igor; the apartment stays with him, and she has nowhere to go. She’s staying with a friend now, but only temporarily.” He paused, gathering courage. “We’ll sell your shop and buy her an apartment.”
Anna felt the ground slip beneath her feet. Those words sounded so ordinary, as if he had just suggested buying bread on the way home.
“What?!” She couldn’t believe her ears. “How can you say we’ll sell my shop?”
“Anya, be reasonable. We’ve been investing money for three years with no return. Katya needs help; she’s my sister.”
“And what about me?” Anna’s voice broke. “Am I not your wife? This is my business, my work, my life!”
“But it doesn’t bring in money!”
“It didn’t! But now it does!” She gestured toward the cash register. “You can see, there are more customers, more orders. I’m just starting to really understand this business!”
Mikhail stood up, his resolve clear and frightening.
“Anna, I’m not asking for your permission. I’m just informing you. The shop needs to be sold.”
“No!” She slammed her fist on the counter; a few petals fell from the rose. “I won’t allow it! It’s my shop!”
“The one I helped you open! With my money!”
Those words hit harder than a slap. Anna felt everything inside tighten with hurt and anger.
“So what? I’m just an employee you can fire any time?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. But family is more important than your flowers. Katya needs our help.”
“And what about me? Don’t I need help?” Her voice quivered with tears she was holding back. “Don’t I need my husband to believe in me?”
Mikhail shrugged.
“I believed for three years. Isn’t that enough?”
Anna turned away to the window, unable to look at him. The rain intensified, droplets sliding down the glass like her invisible tears.
“Leave,” she whispered. “Just leave.”
“Anya…”
“Leave!” she shouted, her voice full of such resolve that Mikhail flinched.
He stood for a few seconds, then silently left. The bell chimed mournfully.
Anna sank into a chair and let the tears flow freely. Each drop was soaked in pain and confusion. How could he? How could he so easily wipe away three years of her life, her efforts, her dreams?
She remembered how the shop began. Mikhail really had supported her idea back then, though with doubts. “Try,” he said, “but if it doesn’t work out, don’t be upset.” And she tried. She studied the flower business, visited suppliers, learned to make bouquets, worked fourteen-hour days.
The first year was a nightmare. Flowers spoiled, customers didn’t come, she didn’t know how to properly store different varieties. But she didn’t give up. Gradually, things improved. Regular customers appeared; she learned to feel the flowers, understand their needs.
And now, when things were finally taking off, he wanted to destroy it all. For Katya.
Anna had never liked her husband’s sister. Not openly hostile, but always sensing some dislike. Katya was beautiful, bright, knew how to draw attention. She often said things like, “Oh, Annushka, you’re so lucky! Such a caring husband, a beautiful home, and now your own business!” But Anna always heard falseness and envy in those words.
That evening at home, the conversation continued. Mikhail came back from work gloomier than a thundercloud.
“Have you thought about what I said?” he asked without greeting.
“I have. The answer is still no.”
“Anna, you’re acting selfish.”
“Selfish?” She turned from the stove where she was cooking dinner. “I’ve put my soul into this shop for three years, and you call me selfish for not wanting to sell it?”
“Katya has nowhere to go!”
“Why is that my problem? Let her work, rent an apartment, like everyone else!”
“She’s my sister!”
“And I’m your wife!” Anna shouted. “Or was…”
Mikhail fell silent. Only the frying pan’s sizzle was heard.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean a husband should support his wife, not destroy her dreams for his sister’s whims.”
“This isn’t whimsy! She has real problems!”
“I have real problems too!” Anna turned off the stove and faced him. “My husband wants to take away the work of my life!”
“The work of your life?” Mikhail smirked. “You’ve been selling flowers for three years, don’t exaggerate.”
That was the last straw. Anna felt something break inside.
“Get out of the kitchen,” she said quietly but firmly enough to make him understand it was best not to argue.
The following days passed in a cold war. They spoke only when necessary, slept in separate rooms, avoided eye contact. Anna felt their twelve-year marriage cracking but didn’t know what to do.
At the shop, she tried to immerse herself in work. Flowers don’t lie, betray, or destroy your life for someone else. They just live and give beauty while they can.
On Thursday, Marina, the owner of the neighboring beauty salon, stopped by. They often drank coffee together and discussed business.
“Anya, you seem kind of sad,” Marina noticed, sitting on a chair by the counter.
“Family problems,” Anna sighed.
“Want to talk?”
Anna hesitated but then decided: why not? Maybe an outside perspective would help.
“Misha wants to sell the shop.”
“What?! Why?”
“To help his sister. She’s divorced and needs an apartment.”
Marina shook her head.
“Strange. Can’t she earn for an apartment herself?”
“Maybe. But why bother when you can live off your brother?”
“Anya, haven’t you thought something’s off here?” Marina leaned closer. “Remember I told you I saw your husband with some woman in a cafe?”
Anna tensed.
“You did? And?”
“What if it was his sister? Are they planning something together?”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe she doesn’t just want an apartment. Maybe they’re dividing property in advance. In case of a divorce?”
Anna’s heart beat faster.
“Marin, don’t say nonsense.”
“But think about it. Why sell your shop if you could sell something else? You have a dacha, a car, other things?”
“We do…”
“Exactly. Why your business?”
Anna pondered. Indeed, why? They had a dacha near Moscow they rarely used, a second car sitting in the garage. Why did Mikhail pick the shop?
“Maybe his sister said something to him?” Marina continued. “Maybe she thinks you don’t appreciate him or something?”
“Why would she think that?”
“Who knows? Envy is a terrible thing. Maybe she envies that you have everything good?”
That night Anna couldn’t sleep. Marina’s words swirled in her mind. What if something was really wrong? What if Katya was deliberately turning Mikhail against her?
The next day she called a mutual friend, Lena, who was friends with both her and Katya.
“Lena, hi! How are you?”
“Oh, Anya! Hi! All good, working. How about you?”
“Well, family problems… Lena, have you heard Katya say anything about me recently?”
There was a pause on the other end.
“Did something happen?”
“Just curious.”
“Anya, better ask her yourself…”
“Lena, please. It’s important for me to know.”
Another pause, then a sigh.
“Okay, but don’t get too upset. She said you don’t appreciate your husband. That you spend too much time in the shop and don’t take care of the family.”
“Anything else?”
“She also said…” Lena hesitated. “She suspects you have someone on the side.”
“What?!”
“Some man. She says you’ve been staying late, going somewhere in the evenings…”
Anna felt blood pounding in her temples.
“Lena, that’s complete nonsense! I don’t go anywhere, just the shop and home!”
“I know, Anya. I told her that. But she insisted. Said she wanted to open Misha’s eyes.”
“Open his eyes?”
“Yes. That you’re lying to him, cheating. And that he should divorce you before you take everything.”
Anna slumped in her chair. Everything fell into place. Katya was deliberately turning Mikhail against her! Spreading rumors, convincing him she was a bad wife.
“Lena, thanks for telling me.”
“Anya, just don’t do anything stupid. Maybe it’s not true…”
“No, now it’s clear.”
Anna hung up and sat for a long time, digesting what she heard. So that’s it. Katya decided to kill two birds with one stone: get rid of her and get the apartment. Clever plan.
That evening she waited for Mikhail and said,
“We need to talk.”
“About the shop? Did you change your mind?”
“No. About your sister.”
Mikhail frowned.
“What about her?”
“What she told you about me is not true.”
“What do you mean?”
“That I supposedly have an affair. That I don’t appreciate you. That I’m a bad wife.”
Mikhail’s face changed.
“How do you know what we talked about?”
“Doesn’t matter. What matters is it’s all lies. And you need to understand that.”
“Katya wouldn’t lie…”
“Katya is jealous of me,” Anna looked him straight in the eyes. “She sees I have a loving husband, my own business, and can’t stand it. So she decided to destroy everything.”
“You’re talking nonsense!”
“Then tell me: why sell my shop? We have a dacha, a second car, your investments. Why my business?”
Mikhail opened his mouth to answer but found no words.
“Because she wants me to have nothing,” Anna continued. “To become nobody. And then, when you divorce me, the apartment will be hers.”
“That’s nonsense…”
“It’s true. And you know it. Deep down you know I’m right.”
Mikhail was silent for a long time. Anna saw doubt fighting in his eyes.
“Even if that’s true,” he finally said, “Katya still needs help.”
“Then help her another way. Sell the dacha, lend her money, whatever. But don’t touch my shop.”
“But it doesn’t make profit…”
“It does!” Anna pulled a notebook with calculations from her bag. “Look. In the last three months, net profit was two hundred thousand. And it’s growing every month.”
Mikhail took the notebook and flipped through it.
“Where did these numbers come from?”
“From finally learning to run the business. I have regular clients, corporate orders. I’m thinking about opening another shop.”
“Another one?”
“Yes. There’s a good space opening on Sovetskaya Street. More foot traffic, can increase profits.”
Mikhail slowly closed the notebook.
“Why didn’t you show me these numbers before?”
“Because you weren’t interested. You’d already decided the shop was unprofitable and didn’t want to listen.”
He sighed.
“Maybe you’re right…”
“Not maybe. Definitely. And you know it.”
The next day Mikhail went to see his sister. Anna didn’t know what they talked about, but when he returned, his face was gloomy.
“You were right,” he said sitting opposite her. “Katya really told me all sorts of nonsense about you.”
“And?”
“And I told her I won’t give her money anymore. She’ll have to solve her problems herself.”
Anna felt relieved, but her anger hadn’t gone.
“And the shop?”
“The shop stays yours. Sorry.”
“Sorry’s not enough,” she said. “You almost ruined my life.”
“I know. And I’ll make it right.”
“How?”
Mikhail thought.
“I’ll help you with the new shop. If you really want to open it.”
Anna smiled for the first time in many days.
“I want to. Very much.”
A month later, the shop on Sovetskaya Street opened. Anna worked there mornings and returned to her original shop afternoons. Business was better than she expected. Mikhail really helped — bringing clients from his business, advising on finances.
Katya stopped calling and coming around. Anna heard she found a job and rented an apartment. Maybe it was for the best — everyone gets what they deserve.
In the evening, closing the shop, Anna admired the display window. White chrysanthemums mixed with yellow roses, creating a sunny mood even on a gloomy day.
Three years ago, she couldn’t tell a chrysanthemum from an aster. Now she dreamed of opening a chain of shops.
Mikhail came up behind her, as promised.
“How are things?” he asked, kissing her cheek.
“Great. Today I sold more arrangements than all last week.”
“Awesome. I found a place for a third shop.”
“A third?” Anna was surprised. “I haven’t even thought about the second properly!”
“I’m already thinking about franchising,” he smiled.
She laughed. For the first time in a long while, she laughed genuinely.
“Let’s learn to manage two first, then we’ll see.”
“As you say, boss.”
They stepped outside. The rain stopped, the sun came out. And Anna thought that life, like flowers, requires patience and faith. You just have to keep going, even when it seems all is lost. Sometimes the most beautiful buds bloom after the fiercest storms.