Morning in a cozy two-room apartment on the fourth floor began with the usual, almost ritual noise — the clinking of spoons against cups, the clicks of the toaster, the sound of water running from the tap, and muffled laughter. The air was filled with a fragrant palette: coffee, fresh bread, and a faint floral perfume drifting from Alina, who, like a butterfly before its first flight, fluttered through the rooms, trying on jewelry.
Marina stood before an old dressing table in the hallway, adjusting the collar of her only business blouse — strict but neat, which she kept for special occasions. She had checked every fold more than once, as if this very collar would decide the outcome of tonight. Nearby, frequently peeking over her mother’s shoulder, spun Alina — a twenty-year-old girl full of life, energy, and dreams. Today was an important day: the official meeting with the groom’s parents.
“Mom, how do these earrings look?” she asked, holding up two tiny pearls shimmering in the morning sunlight.
“Simply magnificent, darling,” Marina replied, looking at her daughter with pride and a slight sadness. “Today you will look like a real princess. Or even a queen.”
Alina laughed and twirled in her new dress of sea-wave color — a deep blue-green impossible to look away from. The fabric gently hugged her figure, creating the effect of movement, as if she were truly walking on ocean waves.
“You know, Mom,” she said thoughtfully, “sometimes it seems to me that time flies so fast we barely notice it. Just yesterday I was a little girl, and today I’m preparing to meet my fiancé’s parents. It’s incredible…”
Marina felt something tighten inside. Her little girl had really grown up. Not the little one who used to ask her to read a bedtime story or hold her hand when she was scared in the dark. Now she was an independent, confident woman choosing her own path. And soon she would have her own family.
“Oh, that Pavel of yours…” she sighed, sitting down on the worn sofa that still held the warmth of many home evenings.
Alina’s eyes sparkled with joy.
“Mom, he’s so great! Yesterday he brought me flowers just like that, with no reason. And he says after the wedding we’ll definitely live near you. He thinks family is the most important thing in life.”
“And his parents?” Marina asked cautiously, feeling a slight tightening in her stomach, a premonition of something unclear.
“Svetlana Ivanovna and Oleg Gennadyevich? Very successful people. They have their own business, a beautiful house outside the city. Sometimes they look at me a little strangely, but Pavel says that’s just their way — they want to make sure I’m suitable for their son.”
The words hung in the air, and Marina felt there was some hidden meaning in them. But she didn’t want to upset her daughter before this important day. She just smiled and said:
“Well, then everything will be fine.”
But suddenly, as if remembering something important, Alina looked seriously at her mother:
“Mom, why haven’t you married yet? You’re beautiful, smart, kind… Why hasn’t someone come along who loves you?”
The question sounded unexpectedly. Marina stood up sharply, as if struck by an electric shock, and turned to the window to hide her expression. She had waited her whole life for this question. And yet every time it made her heart painfully tighten.
“I just didn’t meet the right one, dear,” she finally answered, her voice steady but trembling inside. “And there was no time for myself — I was raising you. You were my main purpose.”
“But I have a father… Who is he?”
Marina felt a chill creep under her skin. She abruptly changed the subject:
“Let’s better check if everything is ready for dinner. We can’t be late on a day like this.”
Left alone in the kitchen, Marina slowly sank down with her back against the refrigerator, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. The name that she had long forbidden herself to speak aloud resurfaced in her mind: Viktor.
Fear of change gripped her from the inside. Soon Alina would leave. Soon her home would become as empty as her heart had been many years ago. And the memories of first love were becoming more vivid, as if the past had decided to return to remind her.
Twenty years ago, Marina was completely different. A young, carefree music school student, with eyes full of light and a soul filled with dreams. She lived for music, saw a story in every sound, an emotion in every note. And then Viktor stormed into her life like a hurricane.
Five years older, confident, dressed in expensive suits, driving a foreign car, he seemed to her the embodiment of success and romance. They met at one of the student concerts. Marina played the piano, and when she finished, she heard a quiet but confident voice:
“You play as if the music flows right from your soul.”
He handed her a bouquet of white roses. That’s how the story began that was supposed to become a fairy tale.
For three months, they were inseparable. He took her to restaurants, gave gifts, spoke of shared plans. Marina composed a song for him — touching, tender, full of everything she felt.
“This is our song,” she whispered, playing the old piano in the dormitory.
“Ours,” he agreed, kissing her on the crown of her head.
But one day everything collapsed like a house of cards. Marina decided to surprise him — she came to his apartment unannounced. She had a key. Climbing to the third floor, she heard laughter and female voices. Opening the door, she froze.
In the living room, Viktor was hugging two women. On the table — bottles of wine, snacks, music. His gaze turned cold.
“What are you doing here? Who allowed you to come without knocking?”
“But you gave me the key yourself…” she whispered in confusion.
“That doesn’t mean you can show up whenever you want! I’m already tired of your childish games and that stupid music!”
He roughly grabbed her hand. Marina broke free.
“I understand,” she said quietly and headed for the exit.
“Leave the key!” he shouted after her.
She threw it on the floor and never looked back.
Under the rain tapping on the bus roof, Marina left for nowhere — to her grandmother’s village, with one bag and a broken heart.
“What happened, daughter?” grandmother Anna Pavlovna asked, seeing the granddaughter’s tearful eyes.
Marina fell into her arms and cried long, unable to stop.
A month later, the test showed — she was pregnant.
“God gave it — don’t complain,” grandmother said quietly. “A child is always a blessing.”
Marina didn’t know what to do. No job, no education, no man nearby. But grandmother was there. And that support gave her strength.
Nine months in the village became a time of rethinking for Marina. She helped with the household, read, learned to be a mother. When Alina was born — small, with dark hair and big eyes — Marina realized this was the most important moment in her life.
The first years were hard but happy. Alina grew healthy, cheerful, and smart. Took her first steps on the wooden floor, spoke her first words that warmed her mother’s heart.
When she turned five, they moved to the city. After grandmother died, they sold the house, exchanged it for an apartment, and began a new life. Alina adapted quickly. She studied well, danced, made friends. Teachers constantly praised:
“Your daughter is very talented.”
At eighteen, she fell in love. Pavel was from a wealthy family, a student at a prestigious university, handsome, well-groomed, with good manners. Flowers, theaters, romantic walks — all like in the movies.
But Marina immediately felt — something was wrong. She couldn’t say exactly what, but there was something unkind hidden in his gaze and words. Something that reminded her of another man from the past.
Six months later, Pavel proposed. Alina was happy.
“My parents want to meet you,” he said. “They invite you to dinner at a restaurant. Just the parents, without the young couple.”
“Maybe better at home?” Marina wondered.
“No, they insist on the ‘Golden Lion.’ It’s a family tradition.”
Marina felt her insides tighten. She was stepping for the first time into the threshold of an expensive restaurant — a place where wealth and power were literally felt in the air. Her hands trembled slightly, and her heart beat faster than usual. Expensive restaurants were alien to her world — a world of modest apartments, old pianos, and cozy evenings with music. But today she had to present herself to her future son-in-law’s family, show herself, be worthy.
“Don’t worry, Mom,” Alina gently reassured, taking her hand. “Svetlana Ivanovna and Oleg Gennadyevich are very nice people. You’ll like them, I’m sure.”
But at that very moment, many kilometers away, in a spacious mansion surrounded by a high fence and shady trees, a very different discussion was underway.
“Are you sure it will work?” Svetlana Ivanovna asked, adjusting her diamond earring and staring sharply at her husband.
“Of course,” Oleg Gennadyevich replied coldly and confidently. “We’ll order the most expensive dishes, ask a few awkward questions, then quietly leave. Let that teacher understand one thing: she can’t afford to hang out with our family.”
The “Golden Lion” restaurant welcomed Marina with splendor that seemed almost theatrical. Crystal chandeliers sparkled like stars, the white marble floor reflected every step, and waiters in impeccable tuxedos moved like ghosts — quiet and silent. Marina felt as if she had entered someone else’s life. She clutched her handbag as if seeking support in it.
Svetlana Ivanovna and Oleg Gennadyevich were already sitting at a table, dressed in clothing that spoke of status and power. Their manners were perfected to perfection, their gazes sharp as knives.
“How nice to meet you!” exclaimed the woman with a perfect smile but no warmth in her eyes.
“Please sit down,” the man politely invited. “We have already ordered champagne. French, of course.”
The questions started immediately. It seemed they were not just interested but interrogating. Job? Salary? Apartment?
“This is a working-class neighborhood,” Svetlana Ivanovna remarked with slight contempt. “An unsafe place to live.”
Marina blushed in embarrassment. She felt like she was taking an exam with no right answers.
Waiters brought dish after dish — caviar, lobsters, exquisite wines, aromas she only knew from movies. Marina barely ate, mechanically twirling her fork, waiting for this strange dinner to end.
“Excuse me, I need to step away,” Svetlana Ivanovna said, rising from her seat.
After a few minutes, Oleg Gennadyevich also left.
“Urgent call,” he explained shortly.
Twenty minutes passed. Then forty. They did not return.
Marina’s heart pounded anxiously. She turned to the waiter:
“Excuse me, do you know where my companions are?”
“They left. Said you are staying.”
Silence. Something inside snapped. A trap. Deception. Betrayal.
“How much is the bill?” she whispered, feeling her vision darken.
“Forty-eight thousand rubles.”
That was more than she earned in two months. Her heart froze.
The manager approached — a tall man with cold eyes and a businesslike expression.
“Ruslan Petrovich. Problems with payment?”
“I can’t pay. I was deceived,” she forced out.
“Your problem. Either pay or the police.”
“Maybe I can work it off somehow?”
“And what can you do?”
“I’m a professional musician. I play the piano.”
Ruslan scoffed skeptically.
“What, school exercises? Do you think our guests will be thrilled by that?”
“Give me a chance. If they don’t like it, I’ll find another way.”
The manager glanced at the clock. A banquet — a wedding — was being prepared in the next hall. Noise, laughter, music. He thought.
“Fine. But if you play badly — police immediately.”
Marina approached the huge black grand piano, standing like a symbol of luxury. Her hands trembled, her heart pounded. She sat down, closed her eyes, and her thoughts rushed to the past.
Youth. First university concert. His voice: “You play as if the music flows right from your soul…”
His gifted flowers. Their melody. The one and only song she wrote for him. For Viktor.
Her fingers touched the keys. The music sounded — soft, sad, soul-piercing. The hall fell silent. Guests stopped eating, the bride wiped away a tear, cooks peeked out from the kitchen doors. Everyone listened. Everyone felt.
When the last chords faded, a pause hung. Then — applause. Loud, sincere, warm.
And then he entered the hall. A tall man in an elegant suit, with gray temples and those same gray eyes she hadn’t seen in twenty years.
Viktor Valeryevich.
He froze, hearing the familiar melody. That song he remembered with every cell. His gaze fell on the woman at the piano. The one he lost.
“Marina?” he whispered.
She looked up. Time stopped.
“Viktor…”
“Now — Viktor Valeryevich. I am the owner of the restaurant.”
“This woman can’t pay the bill,” said Ruslan.
“What bill?” Viktor asked sharply.
“Forty-eight thousand. Her companions left.”
“Come with me. I need to talk to the lady.”
Silence reigned in the office. Two people, separated by years of pain and separation, sat face to face. They didn’t know where to start.
“You look wonderful,” Viktor said first.
“You’ve changed too,” Marina replied, trying to stay calm.
“I’ve rethought a lot since you left. Marina… forgive me for that day. I was a fool. Drunk. Proud. Arrogant. But I never wanted to hurt you.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“Tell me about your life. Married? Children?”
Marina took a deep breath.
“No. Not married. But I have a daughter. She’s twenty.”
Viktor turned pale.
“Twenty?.. So that means…”
“Yes. Alina is your daughter. I found out about the pregnancy a month after our breakup.”
“Oh God… I have a daughter, and I didn’t even know. Why didn’t you say?”
“After you called my music stupid? After you threw me out of your life? I didn’t want my child to know such a father.”
“I was drunk, angry, broken. I had no right to treat you that way. I understand that now.”
The door flew open. Alina rushed in.
“Mom! Pavel told me everything about his parents!” She saw a man she didn’t know. “Sorry… What’s going on?”
Viktor stood, slowly approached the girl. In her features, he recognized himself. And Marina. His children. His family.
“Alina,” Marina said softly, “meet Viktor Valeryevich. Your father.”
The girl froze. Her gaze flicked between her mother and this man. Everything was happening too fast.
“My father…” she whispered.
“A long story. I understand you have every reason to hate me. But if I had known about you, I would never have let you be alone.”
Pavel ran in.
“Alina, are you here?” He sensed the tension in the air. “What happened?”
“Meet my father.”
Pavel extended his hand, slightly confused.
“I must apologize for my parents. I didn’t know about their plan. It’s disgusting.”
“It’s not your fault,” Alina answered gently.
“If time allows, I want to arrange our wedding. Far from them.”
“And if you allow,” Viktor added, “I will help. This is my gift to my daughter. And a second chance to be the father you deserve.”
“We need time,” Marina said. “To understand all this. To get used to it.”
“I’ll wait. As long as it takes.”
Three months later, in the same “Golden Lion,” a wedding was playing again. But now everything was different.
Alina was not just beautiful — she shone. Her dress shimmered like the first snow, and love sparkled in her eyes. Pavel couldn’t take his eyes off her. At the table, among other guests, sat Marina and Viktor. Not as lovers, but as people who had begun to find each other again.
“You know,” he said quietly, “I remembered your music all these years. It haunted me. Even in the most expensive houses, even among success.”
“And I thought I had forgotten. But when I sat at the piano, it flowed from my heart by itself.”
“Maybe it’s a sign?” Viktor asked. “Maybe we should try to start over?”
Marina looked into his eyes for a long time — those same eyes she once loved and hated.
“Maybe… But very slowly. Very carefully.”
“We have time. Our whole life ahead.”
On the dance floor, the newlyweds twirled, and the parents finally understood: sometimes fate gives a second chance. And perhaps this is exactly the moment to start over — not from past mistakes, but with hope for the future.