Sofia couldn’t find peace from the very break of dawn. Her heart clenched with anxiety, and her fingers aimlessly sifted through the contents of an old jewelry box. She turned the whole room upside down, looked into every corner, but the small pendant so dear to her heart had vanished without a trace. That trinket had been a silent witness to the brightest moment of her life—the day Mark, having overcome his family’s resistance, asked her to be his wife. He had been unwavering in his choice; his words sounded firm and assured. Sofia’s mother, Lyudmila Antonovna, was over the moon, overflowing with emotion at the thought of becoming related to a family whose name was shrouded in an aura of influence and respect. She often repeated that, although Mark’s parents were displeased now, they would never disown their only son and, in time, would accept it—and that would open all doors to high society, granting precisely the status she had long dreamed of.
But Sofia wasn’t thinking about status or social standing. Her soul was filled with sincere, profound feelings for Mark, and she was immeasurably happy at the mere thought of walking through life by the side of the man she loved. However… fate often amends even the most carefully laid plans. Mark set off on a business trip by helicopter. He assured her that, as soon as he returned, they would officially formalize their relationship and begin a new, happy chapter together. But that promise went unfulfilled. The aircraft crashed in a remote mountain region. Despite the rescuers’ best efforts, the man’s body was never found, and he did not come home. Some whispered that in those wild places predators might have been at work, leaving not the slightest trace. Sofia refused to believe it. Every day she lifted her prayers to the heavens and kept in her heart a small flame of faith in a miracle. Even if he was no longer in this world, he continued to live in her memory, in her thoughts, in her soul. She vowed that she would rather remain alone for the rest of her days than betray her feelings and agree to marry someone else.
A whole year passed. One day her mother announced that Artyom, Mark’s cousin, would now become the family’s official heir, and he intended to fulfill his brother’s will—to make Sofia his wife.
“What kind of nonsense is that?” Sofia protested, feeling a lump rise in her throat. “We barely know each other. Where does he get this urge to tie his life to mine? Besides, Mark’s parents never supported his decision to be with me.”
“They also believe this is the most worthy way to honor their son’s memory,” Lyudmila Antonovna replied, lifting her chin high. “And why are you arguing at all? You should be happy—after all, all our shared plans remain in force. We’ll obtain precisely that social status. We’ll gain access to benefits that ordinary people can’t even dream of. And what difference does it make which man is beside you if the end result remains the same?”
Sofia didn’t understand what her mother was talking about. What status? What benefits? What was this special world inaccessible to most? Luxury, power, and material wealth had never attracted the young woman. She didn’t seek them and couldn’t grasp her mother’s logic.
“Why are you looking at me like that? You won’t dare refuse. You’ll marry him because I said so. I’ve already given my consent to Mark’s parents.”
“We don’t live in ancient times for parents to arrange their children’s marriages so easily. Nor do we live in countries where such customs still exist. I won’t be his wife. Artyom and I don’t know each other, and, what’s more, there are no feelings between us. I don’t know what you promised them or what you got in return, but I will not be his spouse.”
At that moment, for the first time in her life, Lyudmila Antonovna raised her hand to her daughter and gave her a stinging slap. From the shock and pain Sofia’s vision darkened, and a sharp, unpleasant metallic taste filled her mouth. She was truly stunned; she had never imagined that her own mother was capable of such a thing.
“What do you even understand about life? You grew up wanting for nothing. And all thanks to my efforts. If I hadn’t once shown character and made an advantageous marriage, you would have drunk the full cup of hardship and deprivation. Do you think I had any feelings for your father? He was twenty-five years older than me, but only thanks to him did I escape that remote village where I led a miserable, hopeless existence. I gave him a daughter and received all his fortune. Only because of my sacrifice did you live unaware of the difficulties that fell to my lot. You’ll never understand what it means to scrape by in misery. I sacrificed my personal life, and now it’s your turn to thank me by sacrificing your foolish desires.”
Tears welled treacherously in Sofia’s eyes. She had never asked her mother for such sacrifices, had never asked to be born only to be reproached with it now. She could have never come into the world at all—but that had been Lyudmila Antonovna’s decision. And now she wanted to force her daughter to follow in her footsteps? And Artyom! Why had he agreed to this scheme? They had seen each other only a few times, and even then he hadn’t struck Sofia as a polite or decent man. His brazen, appraising looks inspired only aversion. Perhaps Sofia’s appearance truly attracted him—she was very beautiful—but that was all he cared about. He had no interest in her inner world or her state of soul. He didn’t know who she really was. Why, then, was he now trying to make her his wife? Sofia had no answers to these tormenting questions, but she had no intention of marrying a man for whom she felt nothing but disgust. Even if her mother disowned her, hated her, and threw her out. As for the latter, the solution was simple enough. Sofia thought it was high time to rent a place of her own and start an independent life. She had a stable income and could afford it. She felt sorry for her mother and didn’t want to leave her alone, but now she had been presented with a fait accompli, given no choice.
As she packed her things in her room, Sofia couldn’t find any peace. She had lost her beloved’s pendant, though she had kept it so carefully in the jewelry box with other keepsakes dear to her heart. Thinking that the item couldn’t simply have vanished into thin air, she hurried to the kitchen, where her mother was making dinner—for, according to her, Artyom was supposed to stop by that evening. Sofia had no wish to see him, but, as always, no one took her opinion into account.
“Mom!..” Sofia began in a shaken, trembling voice.
“What’s the matter? You look very upset. Better help me with the cooking. After all, it’s your fiancé who’s coming tonight, not mine. We need to do our best and make everything perfect,” said Lyudmila Antonovna, her tone satisfied, even somewhat triumphant.
“He’s nothing to me—and certainly not my fiancé! I didn’t give my consent. I didn’t come here to help you cook but to ask—have you seen my pendant? Where is it, Mom? My beloved’s pendant. Where did it go?”
Lyudmila Antonovna smirked. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at her daughter with cold disdain.
“Your beloved is dead! And you will marry another! Resign yourself already and accept your fate! I don’t want to hear your endless objections anymore. As for your pendant, I sold it. It’s a rather rare piece; I managed to get a good sum for it. We’ll put that money toward your wedding dress.”
It felt as though the air had been knocked from Sofia’s lungs with a single powerful blow. She choked on indignation and hurt but couldn’t squeeze out a single word. She was so stunned by what she’d heard that she couldn’t understand how she was still standing.
“Where? To whom did you sell it, Mom? I have savings of my own. I’ll buy it back. Please, tell me where it is.”
“I won’t tell you anything else. You’ve already heard everything you needed to. Stop being stubborn and come help me in the kitchen.”
The rest of her mother’s words flew past Sofia’s ears. She decided she could no longer remain in a home where her feelings and decisions meant nothing. She grabbed the suitcase she had already packed—with documents and the bare necessities—and rushed out of the apartment as if scalded. She didn’t tell her mother she intended to move out, hadn’t had time to rent a place, but that no longer mattered. She was ready to settle in the first apartment she could find, just so she wouldn’t have to hear that eternal “you must” anymore. She didn’t consider herself indebted to anyone and had no intention of fulfilling some duty she had never taken upon herself.
Lyudmila Antonovna tried to stop her daughter, leaving deep red scratches on her wrists as she tried to restrain her by force, but Sofia tore free and ran.
Even after moving into the first apartment that fit her budget and location, Sofia still couldn’t calm down. She realized she had to speak with Mark’s parents, to try to bring at least them to reason. She went to their house, since she didn’t have their phone numbers. They kept her outside for a long time, and when the gates finally opened, a stern man—the head of the family, Mikhail Nikolaevich—looked her over with a gaze full of strange, detached pity.
“You were against my relationship with Mark. Why do you now want to marry me off to his cousin, whom you’ve decided to make your heir? Why do you need such a daughter-in-law?”
“That was my wife’s decision, not mine,” Mikhail Nikolaevich said coldly and crisply. “Over this past year, she has suffered beyond measure. She constantly blamed herself for cutting off contact with our son because of his choice, for being the one who forced him into that desperate step—going on that ill-fated trip alone. Now she believes that in this way she can correct her mistakes. By accepting you into our family, she will atone for her guilt before our son. I don’t like this decision either, but it is her will. I don’t want her to go on tormenting herself and leave this life too soon. You should be grateful for such an opportunity. Why are you displeased now?”
Looking at Mikhail Nikolaevich, Sofia only shook her head in hopelessness. Standing before her wasn’t the shrewd, calculating man who had built a vast business… It was a father and husband driven mad by grief, ready to do anything to ease his wife’s suffering. Only she had no intention of taking part in this madness.
“You are free to make whatever decisions you deem right, but you will not atone for your guilt before Mark in this way. He wanted to marry me, but he never wanted me to marry his cousin. That cannot possibly be his will. If you don’t see that yourselves, then at least hear my words: I do not agree with your decision, and there will be no wedding. If you continue to insist, I will have to turn to law enforcement. Forgive me, but you yourselves have crossed every permissible boundary.”
With that, Sofia left the home of the man she still hoped to one day see alive and well. The whole world around her seemed to have gone mad. People had invented some foolish, senseless goal and rushed to achieve it without asking her consent, without any interest in her feelings or wishes. All she wanted was to have her beloved back. Even if that goal seemed unattainable. Even if she alone continued to believe in a miracle.
Sofia managed to keep out of sight for a while, but her mother didn’t stop trying to reach her—using threats and reproaches to force her to change her mind. Artyom also decided to talk and lay in wait for her by her office just as the workday was ending.
“I didn’t expect fate to bring us together in such a twisted way,” Sofia said, barely concealing her irritation. “I can still somehow understand his parents, who are in despair, and a mother who craves her coveted status in this way—but you… What drove you to agree to this?”
Artyom smirked and shrugged carelessly.
“What’s there to think about? An inheritance of my brother’s family fell into my lap out of the blue. Who am I to refuse my aunt her small request? Besides, my future wife is very attractive. The fact that we don’t have tender feelings for each other is nothing. In time you’ll see I’m not such a bad option. It’ll be a mutually beneficial union in which, perhaps, real emotions will someday awaken.”
Sofia only shook her head again, fully realizing that this whole story was driven by cold, cynical calculation. She had no intention of agreeing to it, so, forcing a smile, she repeated the words she had already said to Mikhail Nikolaevich and to her mother. Leaving Artyom alone with his thoughts, Sofia felt only a crushing emptiness and a sharp disgust with everything that was happening. In pursuit of imaginary benefits, people had completely forgotten the most important thing—humanity, the capacity for empathy. They couldn’t care less about others’ feelings. Sofia had no intention of putting up with that and was ready to defend what was right to the end, even if it meant seeking help from the law.
Several long months passed. Lyudmila Antonovna broke off all contact with her daughter, calling her a traitor and an egoist. She hated her for not being willing to sacrifice her feelings and desires for the sake of illusory gains.
One day Sofia went to the park—the very place where she and Mark had loved to spend time, walking for hours and forgetting about everything. She sat down on the old, familiar bench and lifted her eyes to the sky. Once more she silently begged the Universe to return her beloved, if such a thing were possible at all.
“Sofia?” came a voice so familiar it hurt, and her heart stopped—and then began to race wildly.
No… This couldn’t be. Most likely, it was a ghostly illusion born of longing, a waking hallucination. Yet the next moment a warmth she knew by heart touched her hands—real, present. Mark sat down beside her on the bench and pulled her close, crushing her in a bear-like embrace. He was real, alive.
“Mark? But how? Is it really you? Is this not a dream? Not a trick of my senses? Is it truly you?”
“I’ll tell you everything. Just let me enjoy being close to you for a moment,” the man said, his voice trembling with emotion as he hugged his weeping, overjoyed beloved even tighter.
Mark told her that after the crash he had truly been on the brink of death. An elderly man living in complete seclusion in the mountains found him, nursed him back to health, helped him to his feet—but… Mark had completely lost his memory. He helped his rescuer, not knowing whether he should return, or where he should go. Yet this city inexplicably drew him, and, after thanking the old man, he dared to leave, promising that as soon as he remembered anything he would return and repay him in full. The past would not come back, and Mark wandered—until one day he saw in the window of a small pawnshop that very pendant of Sofia’s that her mother had so hastily disposed of. In that instant, something flipped inside his chest, and his memories surged over him like a powerful wave, sweeping everything in their path. Back in the city, he tried to call Sofia, but she had changed her number, and her mother said curtly that she knew nothing and that Sofia had simply run away.
“For three days in a row I came here, hoping we would meet by chance. I was already about to file a missing-person report for you—you’d changed jobs as well—but you came. I am endlessly grateful to the higher powers that we are together again.”
The lovers sat for a long time in a tight embrace, afraid that if they let go even for a moment, this beautiful, magical instant would dissolve like smoke. But no—now they were together, and it was real.
Her sincere prayers had been heard, and heaven returned her beloved to her. Sofia was in seventh heaven, though deep down she still feared she would wake and find herself back in her harsh reality. But the worst was behind them. As they had once planned, the young couple applied to the registry office and began preparing for their long-awaited wedding. Mark’s parents were no longer against their marriage. Artyom, of course, was bitterly disappointed by his brother’s return. He had lost his only chance to become the family heir and to take such a beautiful woman as his wife—but there was nothing he could do. Lyudmila Antonovna immediately tried to put on a show of care, playing the part of the happy, loving mother-in-law who had never doubted that Mark was alive and would return, but no one believed her anymore. The old man who had saved Mark’s life was overjoyed that he had found his family and true happiness. He became the most honored guest at the young couple’s wedding; he warmly praised Sofia for her incredible resilience and strength of spirit and wholeheartedly wished the newlyweds to face all hardships hand in hand on the road ahead. Together. Always together.
