October evening wrapped the city in a gray veil. Rain drummed against the windows, and drops slid down the glass, leaving winding trails. Elena sat in the kitchen with a cup of hot tea and watched those rivulets of water. It had already been six months since the divorce, but she still hadn’t gotten used to the silence in the apartment.
There used to be voices here all the time. Sergei talked on the phone, watched football, argued with his mother about what furniture to buy or where to go for the weekend. Valentina came often—very often. Her mother-in-law considered it her duty to control her son’s and daughter-in-law’s lives. She checked the fridge, gave housekeeping advice, and criticized Elena for every little thing.
All of that was now in the past.
The divorce went through quickly and without much scandal. Sergei didn’t object. In fact, to be honest, he was pleased. He was tired of marriage, of obligations, of having to take his wife into account. He wanted freedom, new experiences, the chance to live the way he liked.
The apartment had been in Elena’s name even before the marriage. It had come from her parents. So there was nothing to divide in the divorce. Sergei moved in with his mother, taking only his personal things and the TV he’d once bought with his own money.
After her ex-husband left, Elena heard from mutual acquaintances what Sergei was telling everyone about the divorce. He boasted that he’d gotten rid of an annoying wife, that he could finally breathe freely.
“I left her with nothing,” Sergei told his friends at the bar. “Let her figure it out on her own. I’m free, and it’s great.”
Valentina didn’t hide her joy either. She had never liked Elena. She believed her son deserved a better match—someone more compliant, obedient, ready to serve her husband’s family.
“We’ve finally gotten rid of the ballast,” Valentina told her friends. “That girl was only getting in Sergei’s way. Now he’ll find himself a proper wife.”
Elena knew about these conversations. She heard from acquaintances, read veiled jabs on social media. But she didn’t react. She didn’t argue or justify herself. She simply went on living.
The first months after the divorce were hard. Elena got used to being alone, to the quiet, to the absence of constant oversight from her mother-in-law. But gradually the solitude became comfortable. She learned to value personal space, time for herself, the ability to make decisions independently.
Work helped her stay distracted. Elena worked as a designer at an advertising agency. A creative profession demanded full commitment, and she immersed herself in projects. It saved her from sad thoughts.
And Elena had a small secret too. A secret that no one knew about yet, except her closest girlfriends and her doctor. She was pregnant. Not far along—only three months. She had found out after the divorce.
Elena didn’t tell Sergei. Why would she? He had made it clear he wanted nothing to do with his ex-wife. Besides, she wasn’t sure he’d be happy about the news. Most likely, he would accuse her of trying to manipulate him, of wanting to get him back or to claim child support.
Elena decided to manage on her own. She had enough money. The apartment was hers, the job stable, she had savings. She could have a child and raise it without a father. Many women do, and they’re fine.
But in early October something happened that changed everything.
Elena’s uncle—Boris Fyodorovich—died. Her father’s older brother, a solitary man who had devoted his entire life to business. He had never married and had no children. His niece was the closest person he had.
Elena visited her uncle regularly. She came on weekends, helped around the house, simply kept him company. He appreciated those visits. He told her about his life, shared memories, and gave advice.
When he died, Elena grieved sincerely. The loss was heavy. But a few weeks later the notary summoned her to read the will.
Boris Fyodorovich left his entire estate to his niece: an apartment, a country house, a car, and the money in his accounts. In total, about ten million rubles.
Elena was stunned. She hadn’t expected it. She knew he lived comfortably, but she had never imagined he had saved such a sum.
“Boris Fyodorovich very much wanted you to inherit,” the notary explained. “The will states: to my niece Elena, the only person who treated me with kindness and respect.”
Elena burst into tears right there in the notary’s office. Not from joy at getting money, but from the realization of how much her uncle had valued her.
Settling the inheritance took time—documents, checks, registering title. But by the end of October everything was done. The money was in Elena’s account, and the apartment and country house had been transferred to her name.
She immediately decided how to handle the inheritance. Part of the money would be set aside for the child’s future—education, development, travel. Let the baby want for nothing. Another part she would invest in herself—take additional design courses, maybe open her own business. And she’d keep the rest as a safety cushion.
Elena told no one about the inheritance. She didn’t want gossip, envy, or requests for help. But rumors travel fast, especially in small circles.
One acquaintance who worked at a bank happened to see Elena’s account. She couldn’t resist sharing the news with her friends. They in turn told others. The ripples spread wide.
A few days later Sergei found out about the inheritance. The information reached her ex-husband through mutual friends. At first he didn’t believe it. Ten million? Elena? From where?
But when several people confirmed the rumors, Sergei realized it was true.
He sat in his mother’s apartment, staring at his phone. Ten million. A sum you can only dream about. And not long ago Elena had been his wife. If not for the divorce, that money would have belonged to both of them.
Sergei told Valentina the news. She reacted instantly.
“Hey, that’s our money!” she exclaimed. “You were married to her when the uncle died!”
“Mom, by then we were already divorced.”
“But only just! The inheritance was received practically right after the divorce. You can contest it, claim your rights!”
Sergei pondered. His mother had a point. They could try something. But lawyers would likely say the chances were slim. The inheritance was processed after the divorce, so it had nothing to do with marital property.
“Maybe try another way?” Valentina suggested. “Go to her, talk. Ask for forgiveness, make peace. Say you realized your mistake, that you want to come back.”
“Mom, seriously?”
“Absolutely. Sergei, think about it. Ten million. You could be a rich man. Buy an apartment, a car, start a business. You just have to win Elena back.”
Sergei wavered. On the one hand, the idea seemed absurd. She wasn’t stupid; she’d see why her ex wanted back. On the other hand, ten million is ten million. For that kind of money, it was worth a try.
“And what do I say? Sorry, I was wrong, let’s get back together?”
“Exactly,” Valentina replied confidently. “Women love with their ears. Add a few sweet words, buy flowers, a cake. She’ll melt.”
He doubted it, but his mother insisted. Valentina already saw herself as the proud mother of a wealthy son, imagining how she’d flaunt their new status to her friends.
“Let’s try,” Sergei finally agreed. “It can’t get any worse.”
Valentina rejoiced. She immediately began planning the visit. They had to buy a nice bouquet, an expensive cake, maybe another gift. They needed to show Elena they were serious, that they wanted to make amends.
The next day mother and son went shopping. They bought a huge bouquet of roses, a cake with piped flowers, and a box of chocolates. Sergei even put on a suit to look respectable.
“Remember,” Valentina coached him on the way to Elena’s, “the main thing is to sound sincere. Say you realized your mistake, that you miss her, that you want to fix everything.”
“Uh-huh,” Sergei nodded, nervous.
He wasn’t sure the plan would work. But since they’d started, they had to see it through.
They drove up to Elena’s building in the evening. Valentina adjusted her hair, Sergei took the bouquet and the cake. They went up to her floor. Valentina pressed the doorbell.
Footsteps sounded inside. Elena opened the door. She stood there in home clothes, her hair gathered in a ponytail, her face without makeup. She looked tired, but calm.
Seeing her ex-husband and mother-in-law on the threshold, Elena raised her eyebrows in surprise.
“Hello, Lena,” Sergei began with a strained smile. “We’d like to talk.”
“About what?” she asked, not moving.
“Well… about us. About the past. About the future,” he stammered.
Valentina decided to step in. She moved forward, holding out the bouquet.
“Lenochka, we’ve come to make peace. Sergei has realized his mistake. He wants to come back. And I want you two to be together again too.”
Elena looked silently at the bouquet. Then she shifted her gaze to Sergei. He was smiling nervously, clutching the cake box.
“We found out you received an inheritance,” Sergei suddenly blurted out. “Ten million. That’s… that’s great. We’re very happy for you.”
Elena frowned. Now it all made sense.
“And that’s why you came to make peace?” she asked.
“No, not at all!” Valentina waved her hands. “This isn’t about money. Sergei realized he’d lost what mattered most—you. His beloved wife.”
Sergei nodded along.
“Yes, Lena, I really did realize. I miss you. I want us to be a family again.”
Elena stood in the doorway, looking at these people as if she were seeing them for the first time. Her ex-husband, who had recently boasted he’d left his ex-wife with nothing. Her mother-in-law, who had rejoiced at being rid of “the ballast.” And now both stood there with flowers, asking for forgiveness.
Elena slowly crossed her arms over her chest. Her look turned cold and appraising. She kept silent, letting her ex and his mother keep talking. It was interesting to hear how far they would go in their attempts to get back into her life.
Valentina realized Elena wasn’t going to let them in. They needed to act faster, more convincingly. She stepped closer, almost up to the threshold.
“Lenochka, you understand we have to stick together,” she rushed on. “We’ve come in peace. The past is behind us. Let’s start with a clean slate. Right, Sergei?”
Sergei nodded eagerly.
“Yes, Lena. Let’s forget the grievances. We were happy once. We can be again.”
Elena still said nothing. Her face stayed impassive, as if carved from stone. Sergei shifted from foot to foot. Valentina fussed with the bouquet, trying to make it look more presentable.
“We sincerely want to mend things,” the mother-in-law continued. “Sergei misses you. I do, too, honestly. The house feels empty without you. Isn’t that right, son?”
“It is, Mom.”
Elena finally spoke. Her voice was even, emotionless.
“After the way you humiliated me, there can be no peace.”
Valentina flinched.
“We humiliated you? Lenochka, what are you talking about? We always treated you well!”
“You told people you’d gotten rid of the ballast,” Elena reminded her. “You celebrated the divorce. Sergei bragged that he’d left me with nothing. Is that what you call treating me well?”
Sergei flushed. He hadn’t expected his ex-wife to know about his talk.
“I just… I said it in the heat of the moment. I didn’t mean it,” he tried to justify himself.
“And now you do mean it?” Elena asked. “Now that you know about the money?”
Her ex hesitated. Valentina took the initiative again.
“This isn’t about the money! Sergei realized his mistake earlier, he just didn’t dare come. Then we heard about the inheritance and decided it was a sign of fate. A reason to meet.”
“A sign of fate,” Elena repeated. “Interesting formulation.”
She leaned a hand against the doorframe. Her stomach had started to ache. Pregnancy made itself felt in stressful situations. She needed to end this and rest.
“Lena, don’t be so tough,” Sergei tried to soften the mood. “Stop being stubborn. Since you have money now, it’ll be easier for us, too. We can live properly, without counting every penny.”
Elena raised her eyebrows.
“For us? What us?”
“Well, if we make up, the money will be joint,” he explained, as if it were self-evident.
“Sergei, we’re divorced. What joint money?”
“But we’ll make up! We’ll get back together. I’ll move in with you, and it’ll be like before.”
Elena smirked. The situation was becoming ever more absurd.
“You want to come back to me to get access to the money?”
“Not only because of that!” Sergei hurried to add. “I really did miss you. But you must admit, money opens doors. We could travel, buy a car, live well.”
“You could live well on my money,” Elena corrected him.
“Why yours? We’d be together. That means it’s all shared.”
Valentina intervened again. She could see the conversation was going the wrong way. Time to change tactics.
“Lenochka, you’re obliged to help!” she raised her voice. “We were by your side for so many years! Sergei was your husband. I cared for both of you, helped. Now it’s your turn to repay the kindness.”
“Obliged?” Elena repeated.
“Of course! Family should support one another. You have money now—share with us. That’s normal.”
“Valentina, we’re not a family. We’re divorced.”
“A mere formality!” Valentina waved it off. “Sergei is ready to come back. That means we’ll be a family again.”
Elena shook her head. The conversation had crossed all reasonable lines.
“I don’t owe you anything. The money is mine, period.”
Valentina boiled over. She hadn’t expected such resistance. As she saw it, Elena should be glad to have her husband back, grateful for the opportunity.
“How can you say that?!” Valentina shouted, waving her arms. “We came in good faith! In peace! And you’ve got your nose in the air! You got money and think you’re a queen!”
Elena calmly pressed her palms to the doorframe. The shouting mother-in-law made no impression at all.
“Valentina, speak louder. The neighbors didn’t all hear.”
Indeed, curious faces began to appear in the stairwell. The door across the hall cracked open and an elderly neighbor peeked out. Footsteps echoed from below—someone was coming up.
The whole landing could hear the scene. Valentina’s voice carried up several floors.
“You’re ungrateful!” she kept yelling. “We gave you so much! Love, care, support! And you—”
“You gave me a divorce,” Elena replied evenly. “That’s the best gift I got from you.”
Sergei stepped closer. He tried to grab her hand, but she pulled away.
“Lena, don’t be foolish. Let us in. We’ll talk calmly, without a scene.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“There is! We can come to an arrangement. I’ll come back to you. You’ll help Mom and me financially. Everyone wins.”
“You win. I don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to live with a man who sees me as a source of income.”
Sergei reddened with anger. He realized persuasion wasn’t working. He’d have to apply more pressure.
“Listen, Lena. You think other men will treat you better? No one will take you. And I’m willing to give you a second chance. Appreciate it.”
Elena laughed—honestly, from the heart.
“Sergei, I don’t need a second chance. I’m fine on my own.”
“Come on! Every woman needs a man around!”
“Not every woman. And certainly not one like you.”
Valentina butted in again.
“Lena, think! You’ll end up alone! Without a family! The money will run out, and life will pass you by!”
“Thanks for your concern. I’ll manage.”
“You’ll regret this!” Valentina threatened. “This is the last time we come in peace. We won’t do it again!”
“Good.”
“Good?! Don’t you understand?! You’re missing your chance!”
“I understand. And I’m deliberately missing it.”
Sergei took another step toward his ex-wife. He wasn’t bothering to hide his irritation now. His face was flushed, his eyes narrowed.
“Lena, enough showing off. Let us in. Right now.”
Elena looked him straight in the eye. Then she calmly stepped back into the hallway. Sergei brightened, thinking she had given in. He moved forward.
But Elena simply slammed the door. Sharply, forcefully. Right in his face.
Sergei froze. Valentina gasped. The neighbors on the landing exchanged glances.
“Hey!” he shouted, pounding on the door with his fist. “Open up! Now!”
Silence.
“Lena! I’m talking to you!”
Silence.
“You’ll be sorry! We’ll get to you! We’ll take you to court!”
Valentina joined in.
“Open up! We won’t leave! We’ll stand here until you let us in!”
Elena walked over to the door from the inside and looked through the peephole. Her ex-husband and mother-in-law stood there with the bouquet and the cake, both bewildered and furious. Sergei kept pounding; Valentina shouted threats.
Elena stepped away from the door, went into the living room, and sat on the sofa. She placed a hand on her belly. The baby stirred slightly inside, as if to soothe his mother.
There was still noise outside—the knocking, the shouting, the demands. But gradually the sounds faded. Apparently the neighbors asked them to stop, or her ex-husband and his mother realized it was pointless.
Elena heard the building’s front door slam. She stood and went to the window. She looked down. Sergei and Valentina were walking to the car. He threw the bouquet into a trash can. The cake, too. Valentina gestured wildly, clearly explaining something to her son.
Elena stepped back from the window, returned to the sofa, and took out her phone. She texted her friend:
“Sergei came. With his mother. Wanted to make peace. They found out about the money.”
The reply came a minute later:
“Are you serious? What a nerve! What did you say?”
“Nothing. I just slammed the door.”
“Good! Let him get lost. How are you?”
“Tired. But calm.”
“Rest. See you tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
Elena put her phone away, leaned back, and closed her eyes.
Everything was now crystal clear. Sergei and Valentina came around for the sake of profit. When she was just a daughter-in-law and a wife without money, they wanted her gone. But as soon as an inheritance appeared, the situation changed. Suddenly her ex realized his mistake. Her mother-in-law started talking about peace and family values.
Elena felt no anger—more like pity. Pity for people who see loved ones only as sources of gain. Who are ready to humiliate and betray, then come back with a bouquet, hoping for forgiveness.
The door was closed to Sergei and Valentina forever. She had no intention of dealing with her ex-husband or his mother again. She wasn’t planning to seek child support. She simply wanted a quiet life, with no toxic people around.
The money from Uncle Boris Fyodorovich gave her not only financial freedom. The inheritance also revealed people’s true faces. It showed who was there sincerely and who was there for what they could take.
Elena got up from the sofa and went into the nursery—the future baby’s room. There stood a new wardrobe, a crib, a changing table. She was preparing in advance for the child’s arrival.
In a few months there would be a newborn here. A little person who would become the meaning of Elena’s life. For her son or daughter she was ready to do anything: provide the best education, a comfortable childhood, opportunities to grow.
And Sergei would remain in the past. A man who didn’t want to be a father. Who came not for the child and not for his ex-wife, but for the money.
Elena stroked her belly and smiled.
“Baby, we don’t need people like that. The two of us can handle it. We’re going to be fine.”
Outside it had grown dark. The rain intensified. Drops beat against the glass, creating a soothing rhythm.
Elena returned to the living room. She poured herself tea. Turned on some calm music. Sat down to read.
Life went on. Without the ex-husband. Without the toxic mother-in-law. Without people who see loved ones only as a source of profit.
The door had slammed shut. And it would not open again for those who hadn’t valued her when they had the chance. For those who came back only for money.
Elena turned the page. Took a sip of tea. Relaxed.
Now one thing was perfectly clear to her: real loved ones are there in hard times. They don’t disappear when there’s nothing to take—and they don’t suddenly appear when there is.
As for the rest, they can stay behind the closed door. Forever.