Anna felt—without the slightest exaggeration—like the luckiest woman on the planet. In just twelve months her reality had changed so much that the past seemed like a hazy, alien dream. Only a year ago her life had been subject to the will of a relative with whom she lived. That woman had turned her niece’s life into an endless chain of chores—everything fell on Anna, from cleaning the house to working in the garden. The aunt herself would only occasionally appear at home, kick off her shoes, settle on the couch, and demand yet another cup of tea.
The girl kept thinking about finishing her studies, finding at least some job, and disappearing forever from that stifling existence. The relative constantly reminded her that Anna was living there out of charity, even though she received certain payments for Anna and earned a decent income selling fruits and vegetables from the garden. And then something incredible happened in her life—real magic.
She met Artyom. Attractive, self-assured, intelligent. Artyom held a good position at a respectable firm and owned his own apartment. He was a man of action, not used to putting off important decisions. In the end, he said the words she had been waiting for.
“I can’t watch this any longer. Your aunt won’t let you breathe, and that’s not enough for me. I want you by my side every minute. Move in with me.”
Anna didn’t hesitate for a second. True, he hadn’t pronounced the sacred words about marriage—he simply invited her to live together—but she didn’t attach the slightest importance to that. It seemed such a trifle compared to the fact that now they could always be together. Her aunt shouted after her that from now on they were strangers and that Anna should never dare cross her threshold again, but the girl didn’t even look back.
They were unbelievably happy together! Anna filled their little nest with warmth and coziness; she would rush home from work, knowing it would always be like this. That day she was returning from a medical facility, buoyed by unbelievable joy. She’d had certain suspicions the day before, and today she had taken a day off to check them. Now she was hurrying home with wonderful news: a new life had begun inside her—and not just one; she was expecting twins. The feeling overflowed her, and she was absolutely certain only a bright, cloudless future lay ahead.
When Anna opened the door to the apartment, her nose caught a strange yet painfully familiar scent. Perfume. Yes, her perfume—the very bottle Artyom had given her for a holiday. She hadn’t much liked the scent and had put the bottle away in a distant drawer months ago—the last time she’d used it was long past.
She stepped into the hallway and froze. Muffled sounds were coming from the bedroom. Could someone have broken in? Artyom wasn’t due home from work for at least thirty minutes. Grabbing a heavy kitchen utensil for protection, Anna headed toward the bedroom. She pushed the door open—and went rigid. It wasn’t a burglar. It was Artyom. But he wasn’t alone. Beside him was a young, very striking girl—nothing like Anna. They were so absorbed in each other that they didn’t notice her at first.
When Artyom finally saw her, his companion let out a cry and pulled the edge of the blanket over herself. Artyom got out of bed and, as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening, said calmly:
“Well, what are you staring at? You’re an adult—you should understand that life happens. There were feelings, and they passed. Although, to be honest, it was just a fling, nothing more.”
His words sounded in Anna’s ears like a distant hum. She wanted to say something, to object, to prove he was wrong—that what they’d had was real—but couldn’t force out a single word. She turned in silence and ran out of the apartment. Already on the landing she heard him call after her:
“I’ll pack up your things—come by and pick them up sometime!”
What things? What use were “things” when her personal universe had just crumbled into dust, leaving only an airless void pressing in on all sides? Anna came to her senses deep in the night. She looked around and realized she was in an unfamiliar, old courtyard surrounded by shabby two-story houses that seemed long uninhabited. After thinking a little, she decided to go to her aunt. Surely the woman wouldn’t throw her out into the street at such a difficult moment?
She stood outside the familiar house for a long time, staring at the dark windows, remembering how her relative had told her Anna would inevitably fall in with questionable people, that she was “no-good.” Those words her aunt had shouted after her when Anna left, shaking her fist and ordering her never to show up again.
The sky in the east began to lighten. Anna sighed heavily, turned, and slowly walked away. About thirty minutes later she found herself on a deserted riverbank, staring at the still surface of the water as salty drops slid silently down her cheeks.
“Forgive me… I just can’t… I won’t manage,” she whispered, silently saying goodbye to the two tiny beings who had only just begun their journey inside her.
Mustering all her will, she rose from the cold grass and checked the time. It was about six-thirty in the morning. She set a plan in her mind: if everything went as she intended, by the end of the day it would all be over for good. Anna wiped away the traces of tears, glanced in a small mirror, smoothed her messy hair, and headed for the bus stop. A long trip awaited her: first by bus, then by commuter train.
When she boarded the train car, it was almost empty—just a few passengers and an elderly woman sitting in the corner. Almost immediately the conductor appeared, and Anna noticed the old woman growing flustered, glancing around in fear. The girl understood at once: the woman had no ticket.
“Grandma, you don’t have a ticket?” Anna asked quietly, so as not to attract attention.
“No, dear. I forgot my wallet at home again—I’ve become so absent-minded. And I really need to get to my grandson; look, I baked pies for him,” the elderly woman said, shyly peering into her modest bag.
Anna couldn’t help smiling and, without a second thought, went to the conductor to pay the fare for them both. The woman conductor nodded in understanding, took the money, and Anna returned to her seat. The old woman smiled at her with boundless gratitude.
“Thank you, my dear. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you—they’d have put me off here in the middle of nowhere.”
“Well, you could have called your grandson to come get you,” Anna suggested.
“Oh, no,” the grandmother waved her hands in alarm. “He scolds me all the time for traveling across the whole city to see him. Says I should be resting, walking in the park, not roaming all over town. My Misha is wonderful; his job is hard and he has little free time, but he tries to visit me, just not as often as I’d like.”
Such warmth and sincere care radiated from the elderly woman that Anna felt something she hadn’t in a long time—a sense of home, of a real family she had practically never known. Her parents had died when she was still a child, and the aunt who took her in had never shown her a drop of genuine kindness.
“And where are you headed, dear? Did something happen? Your eyes look so very sad,” the grandmother asked with concern.
Anna wanted to say that everything was fine, but suddenly she couldn’t hold back and burst into tears like a little girl.
“I thought things had finally turned around, that I’d be happy… and he… he acted so dishonestly. I don’t want to give them up—they’re so tiny, they’re already mine. But I can’t doom them to such a life. I just can’t…”
Her thoughts were tangled, but Anna understood the weight of every word she spoke, and the old woman gently stroked her hand in silence, trying to soothe her.
“It’s very hard for you right now,” the grandmother said softly, “but I can see you have a kind heart. You’ll regret it terribly if you take that step now.”
“Maybe,” Anna whispered, “but I don’t even have a roof over my head anymore, let alone the means to care for them.”
They got off together at the next stop. Anna said a quick goodbye and went her way, while the grandmother stood on the platform for a long time, seeing her off with a worried look. By the time Anna had submitted the necessary tests and signed the papers, more than an hour had passed. She was almost running to the medical facility where they’d told her that if she made it by ten in the morning, she would be seen that day. If she was late, she’d have to wait until the next.
Anna stopped at the hospital’s main entrance; her heart tightened with a heavy foreboding, but she gathered her will and pushed the heavy door. Once inside, she immediately noticed a familiar figure—the same elderly woman from the train. It was as if she had been waiting for her, and she at once came toward Anna.
“I so hoped you would change your mind!”
“Grandma, I beg you, don’t make this harder. I came to finish what I started—before I lose my nerve,” Anna said, barely keeping her voice from trembling.
“My dear, wait—come with me first. I want to introduce you to someone—my grandson,” the old woman said insistently.
“But I have no time at all!” Anna tried to protest.
“You’ll make it, I’m sure of it,” the grandmother said firmly, taking the girl by the hand and resolutely leading her down the long hospital corridor.
The nurses who passed by nodded to the old woman with warm smiles, and Anna realized she was clearly known here. They walked all the way to the end of the corridor, and the grandmother confidently took the handle of a door marked “Chief Physician.”
“Wait…” Anna managed to exhale before the door swung open and a man appeared on the threshold—nothing like the elderly figure she had imagined.
Heads of such institutions are usually associated with people of solid age. But this man was younger than she’d expected.
“I’ve been expecting you. Grandma has already told me everything,” he said with a light, tension-easing smile. “Come in, Granny, please have a seat.”
“All right, Misha, I’ll sit—my legs are aching,” she replied, and Anna thought she saw a mischievous spark in her eyes.
They entered a spacious office. Anna felt extremely awkward, as if she had done something improper.
“Please, have a seat,” the man said, politely indicating the chair before the desk.
Anna shook her head slightly. “It’s no use trying to talk me out of it. My decision is final.”
“Allow me to disagree,” he replied gently but firmly. “If your decision were truly final, you wouldn’t be in this office right now. You knew my grandmother was trying to stop you, yet you still let her bring you here.”
Anna suddenly raised her eyes to him, recognizing the simple truth in his words.
“That’s true… Grandma is a complete stranger to me, and yet I listened to her,” she said, bewildered.
“You see?” said Mikhail Aleksandrovich, the chief physician, sliding a glass of cool water toward her. “Not all is lost. We have a little time; don’t rush. Please, sit.”
Anna sank back into the chair, feeling traitorous tears rise again.
“There now—you said everything was settled,” he remarked with the same calm smile, taking a seat beside her. “Anna, tell me honestly: did you make this decision only because of what that young man did? Forgive my bluntness; Grandma gave me the short version.”
“Not only because of that… I simply have nowhere to live now, and I can’t go back to my aunt,” Anna said, breaking into tears again. Mikhail Aleksandrovich silently handed her the glass of water once more.
“What if I offer you an option?” he said. “You see, I worry terribly about my grandmother—she’s the dearest person I have. But her spirit is indomitable: every time she travels across the city to see me, my heart stops. There’s no stopping her. Our whole hospital has lived off her famous pies for ages, but she herself lacks someone to truly care for—someone who would be with her constantly. Today, when she told me about you, a thought occurred to me: perhaps fate itself has sent you to us?”
He paused to let his words sink in, then continued:
“Agree to be her companion. Not for free, of course. You’ll live with her, help with the household, have your babies… and continue to live as one close-knit family. Grandma worked almost her entire life as a pediatrician—she’ll be an invaluable help with the little ones, and you’ll be a reliable support for her. Well, Anna, say yes. Keep your children, and I’ll sleep easier knowing Grandma is in good hands.”
Anna forgot her tears, staring at Mikhail Aleksandrovich, unsure what to say. Her world had been turned upside down in a matter of minutes.
“I… I’m just not sure I can accept such an offer,” she stammered.
Two hours later they were already driving in Mikhail’s car to his grandmother’s. Her name was Vera Petrovna, and she was overjoyed.
“Mishenka will be visiting us often now, and you and I, Anechka, will bake pies for his arrivals. We’ll fix up the very best room for you and the babies. Don’t you worry, my dear—everything will be just wonderful, you’ll see.”
Anna felt as if she had stepped into some unreal but very kind dream, and it was impossible to resist the gentle yet persistent old woman—and she herself was tired of constantly struggling with fate. Mikhail really did visit often, and although at first Anna felt a bit constrained in his presence, over time that passed.
They went together to collect Anna’s things from Artyom’s place. When he opened the door, he froze for a few seconds, seeing Anna with her belly already rounded and a serious, distinguished man beside her, looking at him with a stern, appraising gaze. Anna quickly gathered her few belongings, and Mikhail, taking the bags, gently guided her toward the exit.
“Let’s go,” he said simply and clearly.
Artyom suddenly lunged toward Anna, pointing at her belly. “That… that’s mine!”
Anna felt Mikhail’s strong, steady hand rest on her shoulder, and it gave her confidence.
“No, Artyom, they’re mine—and you have nothing to do with it anymore,” she answered firmly and clearly.
Mikhail looked at the young man in silence, and Artyom immediately backed off without another word.
At the appointed time Anna gave birth to two beautiful, perfectly healthy girls. The first person to visit her in the ward after the delivery was Mikhail. His eyes shone with genuine joy and pride.
“I’ve already seen them! They’re wonderful—so strong and beautiful!”
Anna smiled faintly, feeling incredible lightness and happiness. “Thank you, Mikhail Aleksandrovich… If it hadn’t been for you and Vera Petrovna…”
Mikhail gave an embarrassed little smile. “Speaking of Vera Petrovna… She’s a woman of exceptional wisdom, but the other day she shared a thought with me. She insists that you and I should get married.” He even blushed slightly. “And I told her: ‘Anna is much younger than I am—why would she want a man my age?’ But Grandma stands her ground and says it’s my duty. That’s how it is…”
Anna gently touched his hand. “Wait, Mikhail—are you proposing to me?”
Mikhail, blushing even more, looked at her intently. “I… I don’t know how this is properly done. Don’t feel obliged to say yes. I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time, but I couldn’t bring myself to. Today I decided I had to take the risk… I understand—there’s the age difference, and surely your heart belongs to someone else…”
He spoke without stopping, as if afraid he’d be interrupted, and Anna had to wait for a pause to get a word in.
“I agree,” she said quietly but very clearly.
Mikhail froze and stared at her in amazement. “But why?”
Anna smiled her special, warm smile—the one that appeared only when she was truly happy. “Because you are the best person I’ve ever met. I realized it the very moment I crossed the threshold of your office on that difficult day.”
