Nika stood by the window, thoughtfully looking out into the yard, holding a cup of tea in her hands, long since cold. Outside the glass, ordinary life was bustling: children were playing on the playground, and their mothers sat on benches, absorbed in their own affairs. Some chatted nonstop, some buried their faces in their phones, some read books. The children were left to look after themselves. One boy ran up to the sandbox and with a swing knocked down a tower that two others had just built. One of them, clenching a handful of sand, threw it at the offender. The other howled and lunged back, and a fight broke out. Only then did the mothers slowly turn around. Two of them stood up, displeased, approaching to figure out who was right and who was wrong. But after a minute, they started quarreling among themselves. A crowd gathered around, and Nika stepped away from the window, sharply feeling how unfair life was arranged. Why don’t women appreciate their happiness? If she had a child, she would never sit glued to her phone but invent games, spend time with the little one, give him attention. Yet these mothers cared about everything — anything but their own children. How could that be?!
Sighing heavily, Nika returned to the bedroom. On the nightstand lay a medical report that seemed to burn her eyes. She would not be able to become a mother. The doctor’s words echoed in her mind like a funeral toll. How many years she had tried to get pregnant — how many attempts, sanatorium visits, mysterious healers’ advice, mountain climbs — all in vain. Now she was clearly told: there was no hope. Tonight awaited the hardest conversation of her life with her husband. Sergey had always been by her side, sharing her dreams, believing that one day they would become parents. And now she would have to shatter his hope as the doctors had shattered hers.
“Miracles do happen,” the doctor shrugged, “but as a physician, I cannot give you false promises.”
Nika didn’t even bother to make dinner. Depression overwhelmed her completely. She wanted to disappear, erase everything from memory. Life without children seemed meaningless. What was the point of living if you left no trace behind? She tried to convince herself that many live happily without kids, that maybe her destiny lay elsewhere. But the thought wouldn’t let go: if she could not raise a little person, then what was it all for? Adoption crossed her mind, but she was afraid even to mention it to Sergey. He dreamed so much of becoming the father of their own child, and she had failed his expectations. When the door suddenly swung open, Nika jumped.
“Sergey, you’re home so early?! I wanted to call you to ask you to stop by the deli, but I didn’t get around to it. Sorry, I didn’t have time to cook.”
“Don’t worry, it’s no problem. I’ll go now. What should I get? The usual?”
“I don’t even have an appetite,” Nika sobbed. “Get something; maybe I’ll want it later. Though… probably not.”
“You look like the ground just gave way under you!” he patted her shoulder. “Alright, I won’t ask questions. I’ll come back, we’ll sit down, have dinner, and you’ll tell me everything.”
Nika silently nodded, feeling her heart tighten. His light mood would soon vanish. She was also ashamed — because of her, he would have to run up to the seventh floor again since the building had no elevator. But Sergey didn’t mind. He returned quickly, carefully arranged the food containers, and gently but firmly urged his wife not to stay silent.
“Sergey, I went to the doctor. We got the test results… and…”
“Well?” He looked at her, hope and anxiety mingled in his eyes as if he already knew the answer but still refused to believe it.
“I can’t have children,” Nika whispered, bursting into tears.
Sergey put down his fork, knelt before her, and rested his head on her knees.
“Don’t cry, my dear. What can we do now… We’ll get through this. Many couples don’t have children — we’re not alone. The main thing is we have each other. Everything will be alright.”
“But I can’t live like this,” Nika said through tears. “I feel worthless. If only we could take a child… adopt… Then I wouldn’t feel guilty. To give love — even not to your own by blood — is already a great deed. To help one little person — isn’t that the meaning? What do you think?”
“I never thought about it,” Sergey admitted honestly, shrugging, “but I promise — I will think about it.”
Nika exhaled in relief. She feared he would refuse, and his promise gave at least a faint spark of hope.
She tried not to pressure him, waiting for his decision with anxious anticipation. How she longed for a baby to appear in their home! How she would love him! They would become a real family. She would care for him like her own, and on weekends they would walk together — in the park, on the skating rink, maybe even buy a country house to spend more time in nature. Every time she looked at her husband, she hoped he would say: “Yes, let’s adopt.” But he began the conversation quite differently than she had dreamed.
“Nik, I’ve been thinking…” he started seriously. “Maybe we can manage without a child? Think about it — who ends up in orphanages? Mostly children from troubled families. Rarely from good ones. Usually when both parents have died and no relatives remain. But those are exceptions.”
“I understand,” Nika replied. “But we can find out everything: who the parents were, the child’s health, any peculiarities. It’s not quick, of course. They say you have to wait years. But it’s worth it.”
“Exactly — years. And we don’t know what will happen in a couple of years. And we’re not getting any younger — in a few years you yourself may not want to take care of a baby.”
“Sergey, let’s at least go there, just look! I found out you can visit the orphanage by appointment, with gifts, spend time with the children. Then, if we want, we can become ‘weekend parents.’ Then we’ll see. Please, Sergey!”
He was silent, looking into her eyes full of deep longing. Then he nodded.
“Alright… Let’s try.”
Nika rushed to him, hugged him, covering his face with kisses, whispering words of gratitude.
The following week, Nika contacted the head of the orphanage and arranged a visit. The day before, she visited children’s stores, bought many toys for different ages, ordered a huge cake. Early in the morning, she and Sergey went to the orphanage. Getting out of the car, Nika felt dozens of eyes watching them from the windows. The looks were various — curious, shy, full of hope.
As soon as she took a step, a little boy about four years old ran at her shouting and hugged her legs.
“Mommy…” he whispered, sobbing. “My mommy…”
Nika froze, her hands full of bags, unable even to hug him. Sergey took the bags, and she knelt down. The boy looked at her with huge blue eyes full of tears and stroked her face with trembling palms. The head of the orphanage approached, hearing the noise, and asked a teacher to take the child away, then invited Nika and Sergey to her office. The boy cried, not wanting to let go of “mom,” but Nika whispered that she would return soon, and they would eat cake together.
“You see,” the woman began, adjusting her collar, “you resemble his mother very much. Not like two drops of water, but there is a resemblance. She herself brought him here two months ago, having learned her illness was incurable. Denis’s father died while she was pregnant. And now she is gone too — died a week ago. She had no relatives — no parents, no close ones. Her mother-in-law refused the grandson. She grew up here herself, was a kind, good girl. Of course, there are others who want to become parents, but Denis doesn’t bond with anyone. But with you — he ran straight to you. Children often feel who is close to them. Decide for yourselves. If you want, you can leave now — so as not to traumatize him more. Think it over at home. That would be fairer.”
Nika was silent, clutching a handkerchief. Fear, compassion, and a sharp, almost physical desire to say, “We’ll take him” fought in her heart.
“We won’t even think about leaving!” Nika said decisively, casting a timid glance at Sergey. “Right, Sergey?”
“I think Maria Alexeyevna is right,” he answered calmly but firmly. “With any important thought, it’s worth sleeping on it. This is not a purchase but a child’s fate. You need to think everything through, make a balanced decision, and only then act.”
“And I’m thinking about Denis,” Nika retorted. “He spent so much time without a mother, suffered, and now if we leave, he will lose his last hope. If he believed his mother was found, and suddenly we disappear — it will be cruel. Sergey, let’s take him! Please!”
“But you understand this is not just ‘take and that’s it.’ You need to collect documents, pass inspections — it’s a long and complicated process.”
“What if we arrange for him to stay with us on weekends?” Nika turned to the head. “I heard that’s possible — like a trial period?”
Maria Alexeyevna nodded:
“Yes, there is such a practice. But honestly, it’s even harder for children afterward. They get used to it, then are left alone again. It hurts.”
“But what to do?” Nika struggled to hold back tears. “I can’t leave him like this!”
“Listen,” the head suggested, “spend a day with him. Play, get to know each other. Then say you have to leave on business. Go home, talk calmly. And tomorrow — we’ll decide what next.”
They agreed. Nika returned home with a heart full of anxiety and tenderness.
“Sergey, please,” she said, squeezing his hand. “You saw how kind and gentle he is. He’s not capricious, not spoiled. His mother’s illness is not hereditary. And most importantly — he chose me. How can we leave after that?”
“He chose you, Nika,” Sergey said quietly, bitterly. “Not me.”
“But he didn’t know his father!” she exclaimed. “He will get used to you, love you. The boy needs a father, and over time he will surely bond with you. And I… I can’t live if we abandon him.”
A long pause. Sergey looked out the window, then sighed.
“Alright… Let’s start the paperwork. But don’t promise yourself it will be easy and smooth.”
“I won’t,” Nika promised, pressing close to him. “Thank you.”
Thus, Denis came into their home. Nika radiated happiness. She tried to help Sergey build a bond with the boy, but he failed. He often stayed late at work, returned tired, and all he wanted was peace and quiet. At first, Denis reached out to him, calling him “dad,” as Nika had taught, but gradually stopped. He had enough motherly love, and Sergey distanced himself more and more.
A year passed. The boy grew kind, obedient, tried to help around the house. One day Nika felt so unwell that she couldn’t go to work. Sergey had to take Denis to kindergarten, and Nika went to the hospital. Her heart clenched with fear — for the first time, she felt sharply that if something happened to her, Denis would be alone again.
To speed up the tests, she went to a private clinic. The results came quickly. And when the doctor smiled and said:
“Pregnancy is not a diagnosis, Nika, but a condition to be congratulated on,” she stopped breathing for a moment.
She returned home in turmoil. The happiness was immense, but alongside it — anxiety. Was it a mistake? A dream? But she had the certificate, and the doctor was categorical: everything was fine.
In the evening, Sergey brought Denis, sat him watching cartoons, and looking displeased at his wife said:
“I missed important negotiations. I explained I couldn’t. We agreed you’d take him to kindergarten yourself.”
“Don’t be angry, Sergey,” Nika smiled softly. “We’ll have to reconsider some things. Because… we’re going to have another child.”
“What?” Sergey’s eyebrows rose. “No, I didn’t sign up for that. I never agreed to a second one.”
“I’m pregnant,” Nika said quietly but clearly. “We’re having a baby.”
“Are you joking?!” He stared at her. “Can’t be… Or can it?”
“It can. Here,” she handed him the certificate.
Sergey read it, froze, then suddenly chuckled:
“Well, that’s something… When you least expect it. Well then, maybe we can return Denis to the orphanage.”
The words hit like a slap. Nika turned cold.
“Did I hear you right?” she whispered. “Why did you say that?”
“What’s wrong with that?” Sergey shrugged. “Now we’ll have our own child. That will be enough.”
“Say you’re joking,” she pleaded with tears in her eyes.
“Don’t even think about it. We took him only because we had none of our own. Now we have our own.”
“You’re out of your mind!” Nika blurted. “I understand the news is shocking, but this is unacceptable! A child is not a temporary replacement!”
“I won’t repeat myself!” he said sharply, pointing toward the room. “Give him back. Or I’m leaving. A stranger will never become family. I agreed to him only for image reasons — before the elections. But I didn’t become a deputy, so… sorry, I don’t want to play a good father for anyone anymore.”
“Are you crazy?!” Nika’s voice rang with pain. “Do you hear what you’re saying? A child is not part of a political campaign! He’s already our son!”
“My son is the one you will give birth to. And this one is a stranger. Was never and never will be. Think and choose.”
“I won’t even think about it!” Nika stood firm. “Denis is my son. I won’t abandon him. Hear me? Never!”
“Then you’re ready to betray me and our child?” Sergey shouted.
“You made the choice yourself,” she replied calmly. “So I can’t betray you. And especially not our child. He will come after Denis became part of our family. And I won’t divide my children into ‘mine’ and ‘others.’ They’re both mine. And you… can leave.”
Sergey silently began packing his things. Denis, sensing the tension, ran to Nika and pressed against her, trembling.
“Everything will be fine, my boy,” she whispered, hugging him as the door slammed behind her husband. “I won’t give you up. Never. Mommy loves you. We will manage. Definitely.”
When Nika gave birth to a daughter, Sergey officially gave up Denis and filed for divorce, demanding that the daughter stay with him. He had already found a new woman who, according to him, would gladly accept the child.
In court, Nika calmly looked at her ex-husband and said:
“Do you remember when you said, ‘A stranger will never become family’? And now — something else? Or when your new chosen one gives birth, will you throw out my daughter like you wanted to throw out Denis?”
The court ruled in Nika’s favor. The daughter stayed with her.
Once, watching Denis gently stroke his little sister’s head, Nika quietly whispered:
“Of course, we’ll manage. After all, I have such a wonderful helper.”