— Where are you going at this hour? — came a sharp voice from the kitchen. — As if to some cacophonous parade!
From the doorway came the familiar smell of fried potatoes and the faint scent of old resentment.
Nadya appeared, dressed in her favorite apron with faded sunflowers, hands on her hips, her gaze heavy and assessing.
Igor was already standing in the hallway, shifting his weight from foot to foot, fiddling with the edge of his freshly ironed shirt — the very one usually reserved for rare special occasions.
— I told you… Volodya, the neighbor, he’s a volunteer. They have another meeting today.
— I decided to go, have wanted to for a long time, — he added uncertainly, as if asking permission for something improper.
— And why without me? — Nadya raised her voice, stepping closer. — He wants to! And maybe I want a lot of things too!
— And this Volodya of yours… He looks so quiet, all “good evening,” “hello” — but who knows what he’s really thinking? Maybe he’ll lure you in and stab you somewhere. I know those quiet types! Still waters run deep…
— Fine, I have to go now, we’ll talk later, — Igor tried to reach for the door handle, feeling uncomfortable under her gaze.
He turned before leaving. Nadya had already crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him as if to say: “There you go again!”
— Maybe you’d better take your suitcases right away? So you don’t bother me later! All dressed up!
— I’m not going on a date, Nadya! Calm down! Bye!
He quickly slipped out the door, trying not to hear how she finished her sentence.
— I’ll try to come back as soon as possible… if I can, — he muttered to the closed door.
— Quick off the mark! Just don’t come home drunk, except maybe to get your things!
Her words chased him down the stairs, ringing in his ears like broken glass.
After going down, Igor took a deep breath. Over forty, an ordinary guy — a CNC machine operator, nothing special.
But inside — a small, almost shy pull that had all his life pushed him toward the thought of helping others. Just like that, with no gain, simply because someone needs it.
He even thought about quitting the factory — tired of the constant shavings, the oily smell, the monotony. But how to say it? Family, Nadya with her “how will we live?” “who will pay the loans?” — wouldn’t understand. They’d see it as nonsense.
He couldn’t talk to the guys at work either — shy, afraid of ridicule. Better to keep this urge inside, like an awkward but dear burden.
The volunteer headquarters greeted Igor with a buzz of voices, business bustle, and a warm, lively atmosphere. People of various ages were busy — some packing food into bags, others sorting clothes carefully, separating children’s items from adults’.
Volodya approached him — the neighbor Igor had only seen before in the elevator or courtyard. Now he noticed Volodya’s kind and slightly tired eyes.
— Hi, Igor! Glad you came! — Volodya smiled warmly, his face lit with wrinkles.
He showed the new volunteer around the rooms, explained how everything was organized: where things were stored, how aid was prepared for shipment. Then everyone gathered in a small cozy room.
Volodya was one of the key people here — the real center of the operation. He talked about plans: helping low-income families, distributing food and clothes, especially now that spring was starting but evenings were still chilly.
He spoke about visiting lonely elderly people — those who awaited them like children wait for a holiday. When he began reading the list of addresses, he suddenly looked up and stared directly at Igor.
— Can you go with Vera and Dania? See how it’s done. If you don’t mind, of course.
Everyone turned to Igor. He felt himself blush, his throat dry, his heart pounding faster.
— Yes… — he said quietly at first, then more confidently — Of course, I don’t mind.
Something inside stirred — excitement, curiosity, anticipation of something important and real.
From that first evening at the headquarters, Igor seemed younger. Months passed, summer turned to autumn, and his life filled with light and meaning.
Now he hurried home from work, ate quickly, and went back to where he was awaited, where he was needed. Where, instead of irritation in people’s eyes, he found gratitude.
Nadya continued to grumble unhappily, but Igor no longer paid attention. Her reproaches remained behind, like old wallpaper that needed to be torn off.
Volunteering became his life. He helped the elderly, the disabled, delivered groceries, sometimes just fixed a pipe or a light bulb. At the headquarters, he sorted, planned, went on trips.
Every evening he returned tired but with ease in his soul — because he had not wasted the day.
One of those days when the low gray sky pressed on shoulders like a burden, Nadya spent it in irritation. The day went badly, and at home awaited the usual emptiness — Igor had gone out again on his errands.
And then, as if sensing the moment, Liza approached her — the neighbor known for her passion for others’ secrets and skill in turning half-truths into full gossip.
— Nadya, your man still runs around the building? Hasn’t he had enough playing noble savior?
Nadya stopped abruptly. She shot Liza an icy glance, and Liza instinctively took a step back.
— What’s it to you? — Nadya hissed, feeling anger boil inside. — Mind your own business, chatterbox!
— I just… I saw your guy today… With a girl! Young, slim… Only in a wheelchair. He was pushing her, she was smiling at him… Just lovebirds!
With every word from Liza, Nadya’s heart tightened, but she kept her face. Trying hard not to show the pain tearing her inside.
— Shut up already! — she snapped. — He’s pushing a disabled woman — so what? Are you jealous? Watch your own Vasya!
With that, Nadya walked away proudly, though inside she was trembling. Thoughts swirled like autumn leaves: “Girl… young… smiling… cooing…” — those words burned like hot iron.
For a couple of days, Nadya was out of sorts. Liza’s words didn’t give her peace, gnawed like a thorn in the flesh. And finally, she made a decision.
As soon as Igor rushed out of the house without even looking at her, Nadya quickly threw on her jacket and followed him, trying to stay in the shadows.
Meanwhile, Igor approached one of the houses, in a good mood — Yulia had been laughing on the phone today, and that made him happy. He easily ran up to the second floor, entered the apartment, and cheerfully called out:
— Yulia, hi! It’s me!
He went to the kitchen with bags of fruit and yogurt — the girl’s favorite foods. Yulia, a twenty-eight-year-old woman confined to a wheelchair after a tragedy, was glad to see him. His care, though a bit clumsy at first, became a light for her in the endless darkness of depression.
At first, she blushed, was shy, but over time understood: Igor didn’t judge, didn’t pity, he was simply there. He gave her a chance to start living again.
Today they went for a walk. Igor carefully helped Yulia down the stairs, seated her in the wheelchair, and pushed her to the park. They laughed, talked, watched children playing in the yard. It was warm despite the chilly air.
— If not for you… I wouldn’t be here anymore, — Yulia suddenly said, looking into the distance. — You’re like a light, and I want to live again…
Igor listened, gripping the wheelchair handles. He remembered how she had been — extinguished, lifeless, ready to give up. That memory still prickled with fear.
But at that moment, Nadya stepped out of the bushes. Her face twisted, eyes full of anger.
— Oh, warm and cozy, huh? Tell me where exactly? — she hissed, looking at Yulia.
Yulia flinched. Igor froze, then sharply turned around.
— What are you doing here? Following me?!
— Following a fool! — Nadya snapped back. — All normal people are home, and he’s cozying up to a disabled woman!
— Nadya, go home! — Igor’s voice was low, dangerous. — Right now!
She wanted to say something, but his look stopped her.
— It’s either me or her! — she shouted as she left. — And you can start packing!
Igor said nothing. He just turned the wheelchair and decisively headed to the entrance, shielding Yulia with his body.
Nadya stood still, mixed feelings wrestling inside her — anger, hurt, some strange fear… But then, looking like a winner, she slowly went home.
Igor crouched down beside the couch. Yulia sat curled up — pale, as if faded, with empty eyes.
— Yulenka… sunshine… it’s okay, hear me? — his voice was quiet but full of desperate care. — That was my wife… She’s not herself. You did nothing wrong! Nothing bad!
He spoke, pleaded, begged her not to blame herself, but Yulia just stared ahead as if she had long stopped hearing.
He talked to her for a long time, repeated how brave she was, how much she had already gone through, how strong she was. But Yulia did not respond. As if falling again into the darkness he had tried so hard to pull her from.
Finally, barely audible, she whispered: — Go away…
Igor sat with her a bit longer, stroking her cold hand. Time passed. He had to get up early tomorrow — work. He helped Yulia lie down, covered her with a blanket, and left home with a heavy heart.
He walked slowly but stopped at some point. Something clenched inside, warning and painful. He turned around and ran back.
He opened the door with his key. Ran through the hallway — and immediately smelled gas. He rushed to the kitchen.
Yulia lay on the floor, clutching her head, sobbing with heavy tremors. Nearby, lonely and useless, stood the wheelchair.
Igor turned off the stove, flung open the window, letting in the icy night air. Lifted Yulia from the floor — light as a feather — and carefully laid her in bed.
— Why did you do this?! — he burst out, voice choked and bitter. — You’re young, beautiful… You have everything ahead! Children, family, love… I promise you!
— I will never have that, — her voice was lifeless. — I’m disabled… nobody needs me…
— That’s not true! — Igor almost shouted. — You’re needed! Not only by others… You’re needed by me!
Their eyes met. In hers, full of tears and pain, something alive flickered. In his — an abyss of compassion and love. And at that moment, their lips found each other — a short, desperate, trembling kiss.
When they pulled away, both were gasping.
— Sorry… I didn’t mean to… I don’t know how it happened… — Igor muttered, feeling his cheeks burn.
— Igor… Will you come? — Yulia whispered, hope trembling in her voice. — Please, say you will…
— If you don’t do such stupid things anymore… Then I definitely will, — he knelt before her, gently wiped tears from her cheeks. — Promise me.
— Honest word, — she whispered. And a smile appeared on her face for the first time that day — weak, but real.
Igor returned well past midnight. Nadya sat in the kitchen, as if nothing had happened, drinking tea and staring away, as if her husband didn’t exist at all.
He approached, tall, grim, his face worn by fatigue.
— You could have killed someone today, — he said quietly but firmly. — She wanted to leave. Because of you.
Nadya kept drinking, only the knuckles clutching the cup turned white.
— Is there even a drop of sympathy in you? Even a grain of humanity? — his voice began to tremble. — We worked with her for months, pulling her out from the very depths! She didn’t respond to anything, anyone!
— But as soon as she started to live… as soon as she smiled… you come and with just one word destroy everything!
Nadya slowly set down her cup. Her gaze was cold and defiant.
— Oh, how sensitive we are! — she hissed. — Here comes the protector! Ready to devour his wife for some other woman!
— Didn’t you think that you’re to blame for everything? Running around like a lost person while the family has to manage itself?
— Me?! — Igor stepped back a step. — I help people, Nadya! Those who are all alone! And you… have you ever really helped anyone? Someone outside our apartment?
— Or do you only know how to spit venom and ruin others’ lives?!
— I’m the poisonous one? — Nadya jumped up. — I’ve slaved all my life for you! For the kids, for you, the crazy one! And now you judge me about kindness?
— “You cook the food”?! — Igor laughed bitterly. — You’ve reproached me with that bread my whole life! You want a slave who will be silent and obey orders. Not a family.
— You didn’t even realize you almost caused a death! You didn’t even think! As long as your world doesn’t shake!
She wanted to reply but he stopped her with a hand gesture.
A long look. Without anger. Without pain. Only fatigue. Deep, burning to the very heart. And understanding — complete and final. They were too different. And their paths had parted.
Without a word, he went to the hallway, put on his jacket, took his keys.
The door clicked. A light breeze shook the curtain.
He left. This time — forever.