Sophia cried, burying her face in the blanket that covered her father. His hand, weak but still warm, slid through her hair.

«Don’t cry, my girl, please. You can’t fool fate. Better listen to me,» he whispered.

Sophia raised her tear-streaked face. Her father spoke barely audibly, as though each word cost him effort:

«Just don’t interrupt me. I have no strength left… Once, there were two of us—Mikhail and I, Grigory. We were inseparable friends, even swore on blood that our friendship would last forever. And then your mother appeared. We both loved her. Do you understand? When love comes between people, friendship often takes a back seat. Your mother chose me, and Mikhail couldn’t accept it.»

«But he is a wonderful man. If it gets too hard for you, you can turn to him. He won’t leave you. He owns the ‘Breeze’ restaurant now. Remember that, Sophia. Maybe one day, it will save you. There’s more, but if he wants to, he’ll tell you himself…»

«Remember: I love you with all my heart, I believe in you, and I know—you’ll make it.»

Sophia hugged her father tightly, and suddenly, his body tensed, then went limp.

«Dad! Dad!» Her scream echoed through the room.

She was pulled away from the bed. The doctors were running back and forth, and Sophia watched the scene as if from a distance. One thought spun in her head: «I am alone. I am all alone in this world.»

«Tomorrow, go find a job. I’m not going to feed you.»

«But I’m studying…»

«Studying!?» her stepmother mocked. «You won’t be fed with songs. If you don’t find work, you’ll be out on the street. Got it?»

«But this is my home!»

The stepmother jumped up, her eyes flashing.

«What? Your home? Ha! This is my home. I am your father’s lawful wife. So shut up. And know this: I’m speaking kindly now. But I can speak differently.»

Sophia ran out of the room, slamming the door behind her. She cried all night, holding her father’s photo close. By morning, she had decided: her father had left enough money for her to finish her studies and try to fulfill his dream.

He had always wanted her to sing. From childhood, she had won competitions. Her teachers said it was hard to break through, but even if she didn’t succeed, her voice would always be able to feed her.

«Just imagine: anyone who hears your name—Sophia Grigorieva—will never forget it,» they told her.

She smiled. Yes, Dad had done his best. She wasn’t just Grigorieva, but also Grigoryevna.

In the morning, Sophia got ready and went to her classes. She tried to be quiet so she wouldn’t wake her stepmother. She would study. No matter the cost. Dad wanted it that way.

When she returned, she saw her stepmother on the porch. Sophia slowed her pace, hoping the woman would leave, but the stepmother stood, not taking her eyes off her.

«Well, did you find a job?»

«I was at school.»

Sophia tried to walk past, but the stepmother blocked her way.

«At school, huh? You want to be a singer?» She put her hands on her hips. «What singer are you? Your voice is like rusty hinges, no brains. You should be washing floors with your looks, not trying to get on stage. I warned you.»

The stepmother pulled out a suitcase and a bag.

«Here, take your things and get out. You’ll go sing in the subways, scare passersby. Maybe someone will give you something.»

Sophia looked at the suitcase with wide eyes, but the stepmother went into the house and slammed the door. Sophia heard the locks click. She grabbed her things and ran out of the yard.

«God, please let no one see this. Let Dad rest in peace, where he is now!»

Sophia trudged down the street, dragging the suitcase. There were no more tears, no more thoughts. She had no relatives. Her parents had both grown up as orphans. She didn’t know what to do.

It was getting dark. She stopped. Ahead was the «Breeze» restaurant. This was the place her father had told her about. There was no choice. She walked to the door. A young man greeted her.

«Good evening. Allow me, let me help with your things and take you to your table.»

«No, thank you. Can I see the owner of the restaurant? Mikhail?»

«Mikhail Yurievich?»

The young man looked at her doubtfully.

«I’ll check.»

A minute later, he returned with a tall, distinguished man about forty-five years old.

«Are you looking for me?»

Sophia nodded.

«I’m listening.»

«I… I’m the daughter of Elena and Grigory Grigorieva. My father said that if I ever need help, I can turn to you.»

«Elena and Grigory? Why can’t Grisha help his own daughter?»

«My father is no longer here. He passed away a few days ago.»

Mikhail flinched. Sophia couldn’t hold back her tears. The young man handed her tissues.

«Would you like some water?»

Mikhail seemed to snap out of it.

«Maxim, take her things to my office and bring some water.»

«Understood.»

Mikhail gently put his arm around Sophia’s shoulders.

«Please, calm down. I didn’t know.»

Once Sophia calmed down a bit, he set a chair in front of her and sat next to her.

«Tell me, what happened? Why are you with a suitcase?»

«My father had been sick for a long time. After my mother’s death, things got worse. A woman named Zhanna appeared at our house. She pretended to support my father, but I saw she didn’t love him. Nobody believed me because I was little. A year and a half later, she moved in with us. That’s when my father first went to the hospital.»

«The doctors said his heart was worn out like an old man’s. Zhanna brought him food and stayed at the house. When he was discharged, he didn’t kick her out. They later got married.»

«I hoped things would get better, but… Dad worked a lot, even though the doctors told him not to. He always said that his ‘star’ deserved a good future. He believed I would become a star.»

«Before he died, he told me about your friendship and said that if I needed help, I could turn to you.»

Sophia looked up.

«He said you were like brothers, but then mom came.»

Mikhail smiled sadly.

«Your mom didn’t want to be the reason for our quarrel. She hesitated for a long time, even tried to leave to not ruin our friendship. But it was too late. Grisha stopped her.»

«Sophia, even though we haven’t spoken for many years, Grigory and Elena will always be family to me. You can count on me like a father. Do you want to build a career?»

«No, I just want to live a normal life, work… And if I can, finish my studies.»

Mikhail Yurievich thought for a moment, then asked:

«What if I offer you to live with me? Would you agree? I have a big house in the center. If not, I can get you a hotel for a few days until we find something suitable.»

«Can I stay with you? I don’t want to be alone…»

Sophia sniffled, and Mikhail gently added:

«Of course. I’m all for it. I live alone, unless you count my fat lazy cat, who ignores me because he thinks I’m useless.»

Sophia smiled faintly.

«How do you know what he thinks?»

«When I come home, he’s already fed, clean, and groomed—the housekeeper loves him. And when I try to pet him or call him, he gives me a disdainful flick of the tail and walks away.»

Mikhail looked seriously at the girl.

«I understand how hard it is for you right now, but believe me, Grigory was right. I’ll do everything I can to help you.»

«Were you really that close? Why did you stop talking?»

«We were friends. But life sometimes muddles everything up so that it’s unclear who’s right and who’s wrong. Maybe I’ll tell you this story later.»

A few days later, Sophia had calmed down somewhat. Mikhail invited her to a cafe.

«Let’s go, we’ll talk, think about what to do next.»

«Could we not go to a cafe? Maybe your restaurant? I’ve never been there.»

«Of course. Let’s go.»

Mikhail insisted that Sophia continue her studies.

«But how will I live? You’re not obliged to support me. I wanted to find a job.»

«Wait.»

Before he could finish, the young man who had met Sophia earlier rushed to him.

«Mikhail Yurievich, we have an emergency!»

«What happened?»

«In half an hour, there’s an anniversary. The contract specifies live performance. The problem is…»

«Artem won’t show up again?»

Mikhail grabbed his head.

«What’s the story? Again?»

«Yes.»

«Okay, let’s start calling everyone who has performed here before.»

«We’ve already called everyone. If we don’t meet the conditions, we’ll have to pay a penalty.»

«Alright, Maxim. Forget the penalty, but the reputation…»

Sophia gently touched his hand.

«Uncle Mikhail, I can sing.»

«What? Are you sure?»

«Yes. Don’t worry, I’ll manage.»

He stared at her for a long time.

«Sophia, this isn’t necessary. Besides, you’ve never sung in a restaurant before. It’s noisy here, and the atmosphere is completely different.»

«It’ll be fine. I promise.»

When Sophia began to sing, complete silence fell over the room. Mikhail sat at the table all evening. During the last song, he quietly said:

«Elena… I promise, our daughter will become a star.»

Years ago, Mikhail had behaved poorly toward Elena. He had been too persistent, and she got scared. When she found out she was pregnant, she decided to leave. Grigory stopped her and learned the truth.

The friends had a big fight. Mikhail realized his mistake but didn’t want to admit it. Later, he apologized, but it was too late. Grigory asked him never to contact them again. Now, Mikhail decided that Sophia didn’t need to know this story. It would only hurt her.

Zhanna and her new husband arrived at the restaurant.

«Finally!» the man sighed.

Zhanna liked showing off her «superiority.» They didn’t have much money, but she chose this restaurant to impress her friends. They were already sitting at the table when she entered, proudly signaling the waiter.

«What entertainment do you have? Is anyone going to sing?»

The waiter smiled.

«You’re in luck. For a couple of days, we have Sophia the star. She’s from here, and she’ll be performing tonight.»

The friends gasped:

«Unbelievable! No way!»

Zhanna had also heard about her, but pretended not to know.

«Ah, I didn’t know she was from our town.»

«Yes, she studied here and started out. Perhaps you remember Grigory Grigorieva?»

Zhanna paled.

«Grigory Grigorieva?»

Her husband looked at her in surprise.

«Wasn’t your last name Grigorieva?»

Zhanna turned to him.

«Coincidence. As always, you don’t get it. And you picked the wrong restaurant. Everything is wrong…»

She looked around and pointed at something.

«These burgundy curtains are awful.»

Her husband widened his eyes.

«How could I know you choose restaurants by the curtains? And why are burgundy bad if you have the same ones in your bedroom?»

Zhanna angrily pushed the chair back and sat with her back to the stage.

«My God, what a husband I have! All husbands are normal, and mine only ruins holidays.»

The room went silent. Almost immediately, a young female voice began to sing a sad melody. Zhanna crumpled a napkin and threw it on the table.

«Well, what now? Are we going to spend the whole evening listening to this singer?»

Her husband sighed and stood up.

«Girls, I’m sorry. I’ll come back later to drive you home.»

Zhanna watched him leave with a bewildered look and sighed heavily.

«Now I’ll have to sit like a statue. Not turning, not dancing…

After 23 years of marriage, Mary simply desired an evening out with her husband, Jack. When he declined—confessing he felt ashamed of her—she couldn’t have predicted the valuable lesson that would follow.

Jack and Mary had been wedded for more than two decades, nurturing four children together. Their lives had transformed into a predictable pattern—one lacking any thrill between them. Jack would arrive from work, collapse onto the sofa, and switch on the television. Meanwhile, Mary’s responsibilities seemed endless. She prepared meals, tidied the house, assisted with schoolwork, washed clothes, and tucked their youngest into bed—only resting when fatigue overwhelmed her. During quiet late hours, she would view love films, picturing herself in those narratives. She longed to feel cherished, to feel adored.

One night, glancing at herself in the mirror, she hardly identified the person staring back. The lively young woman from her wedding snapshot had vanished, substituted by someone weary, depleted, and unseen. Yet she declined to accept this as her fate.

The following evening, when Jack returned, Mary arranged the table with extra attention. While eating, she mustered her bravery. “Jack,” she said, giving a gentle smile, “I was thinking… perhaps we could enjoy a date. There’s a fresh establishment downtown. It would be pleasant to share some moments together.”

Jack chuckled dismissively, startled by her proposal. “A date? For what reason? It’s not a notable occasion or anything.”

Mary’s smile weakened. “Do we require a reason?” she asked softly. “We used to venture out simply because we wanted to.”

Rather than being touched, Jack grew annoyed. “Look at yourself!” he sneered. “Why would I take you anywhere? You appear awful.”

Mary’s heart tightened with hurt. “I just finished scrubbing the house, that’s why I look this way,” she whispered.

Jack shook his head, completely unconcerned. “No. You look like that every single day. You once cared about your appearance—styling your hair, wearing nice clothes—but now?” He grimaced. “You resemble an elderly housekeeper. I don’t recall when you stopped trying.”

Tears formed in Mary’s eyes, but still, Jack maintained his harsh stance. “To speak truthfully, I’m embarrassed by you,” Jack declared. “I cannot go out with you looking like this.” Then, without additional words, he grabbed his coat and exited.

Jack visited his closest friend Samuel’s residence, keen for a night at the pub. But Sam declined. “Sorry, friend. I have plans with my wife.”

Jack frowned, displeased. “A date? On an ordinary evening?”

Before Sam could answer, his wife emerged at the staircase top—glowing. She wore a stunning dress, her hair beautifully arranged. In her embrace, she held several fresh flowers.

“Sam, I just discovered these in our bedroom!” she exclaimed, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“I’m pleased you enjoy them.” Sam grinned, revealing a gift package from behind the door. She peeked inside and gasped with delight. “Sam, this is gorgeous!”

Jack observed in amazement. “Your partner looks stunning,” he mumbled. “And she appears… cheerful. Mine constantly seems unhappy. She rarely grins anymore.”

Sam’s face became grave. “When did you last escort Mary to dinner?” Sam questioned.

Jack paused. “I’m unsure. Two years ago? Perhaps longer.”

Sam lowered his head, let down. “And you’re puzzled why she doesn’t smile?” he remarked, giving Jack’s shoulder a friendly tap.

Jack grew quiet. “You know,” Sam proceeded, “I don’t bring my wife to restaurants because it’s a noteworthy occasion. I do it because I decide to make each day exceptional. She’s the brightness of our household. She merits feeling valued. And do you understand what occurs when a woman feels cherished?”

Jack provided no response.

“She glows.”

Jack departed without further conversation. Upon arriving home, Mary was folded up on the sofa, her visage still puffy from weeping. Jack experienced a surge of remorse. He had caused her to feel that way.

Silently, he positioned a tiny present container on the table. Mary looked up, astonished.

“Forgive me,” Jack uttered gently. “I wounded you today. I was unkind. You didn’t deserve such treatment.”

Mary paused and examined the container.

“Would you join me for dinner tomorrow night?” Jack inquired. “I secured a table at that new establishment downtown.”

Her gaze broadened. Gradually, she unveiled the box—inside rested a fine silver chain. Moisture gathered in her eyes—but this instance, they weren’t tears of suffering.

“It’s exquisite,” she murmured. “Thank you, Jack.”

Her mouth formed into a delicate, authentic grin—the expression he hadn’t witnessed in years. And at that instant, Jack comprehended—he yearned for that smile.

The subsequent evening, when Mary emerged from her chamber, Jack was awestruck. She looked magnificent. But it wasn’t merely the attire or the meticulously arranged hair. It was the twinkle in her gaze. The identical twinkle she had when she regarded him.

And abruptly, Jack felt like a fool. For years, he had presumed Mary’s devotion—allowing her to handle all the domestic responsibilities while he relaxed on the sofa. For years, he watched her diminish without questioning if he was the cause of it.

But no more.

That evening, something transformed. Not solely for Mary—but for both individuals. From now forward, Jack would ensure their affection didn’t dissolve into routine again. Because his companion was correct. You don’t require a motive to commemorate love. You don’t need a special event to display appreciation. You simply need to opt to make every day significant.

And Jack? He wouldn’t hesitate anymore.

The dinner at the eatery was merely the commencement of something far greater for Jack and Mary. As time progressed, Jack realized that the actual issue wasn’t the scarcity of notable moments but the lack of consideration and esteem he had given his spouse. He began to alter. Not just in actions but in language, too.

He commended her more often, heeded her with greater focus, and crucially, addressed her with the same reverence and fondness he experienced when they first encountered each other. Jack understood that through the years, he had permitted the daily pattern to stifle the affection he harbored for Mary.

Mary, correspondingly, felt rejuvenated. She started to feel esteemed again, which enhanced her assurance and self-worth. She started to grin more frequently, care for herself better, and above all, adore more intensely. She recognized that despite all previous events, their union had an opportunity for reconstruction.

With every minor act, every outing, every discussion, they rediscovered one another as partners. They recognized they didn’t require grand displays or flawlessness, but rather dedication and shared effort to cultivate their bond each day.

Eventually, Jack and Mary established a fresh, more equilibrated existence. They initiated planning additional outings, chuckled more regularly, and vitally, backed each other more consistently. Their connection, which had once teetered on the edge of disappearance, was revitalized through straightforward and genuine actions.

And this is how, after numerous years, Jack and Mary rediscovered what it genuinely signified to be spouses—and how occasionally, the sole requirement is to pause and glance sideways, comprehending that love was never absent, it was simply awaiting rediscovery.

— Kolya, I’m late again! Maybe we should go buy a test? — Ksenia looked at her husband with hope, as he lay on the couch, focused on his phone.

Nikolai looked up and frowned.

— Ksenia, how many times do we have to go through this? I told you, now is not the best time for children!

— But you yourself dreamed of a big family before the wedding! — Ksenia sat on the edge of the couch. — You said you wanted at least two! And now, as soon as there’s a hint of pregnancy, you immediately find a thousand reasons why it’s “not the right time!”

Nikolai put down his phone and sat up, rubbing his forehead.

— I’m in a critical period at work! I’m advancing, you know that! My career needs attention! Once I’m settled in my new position, we’ll sort out our finances, and then we can talk!

Ksenia bitterly smiled. This conversation had been repeating between them with enviable regularity for the last two years. First, he had to wait until he became the branch manager, then they had to buy a car, and now it was all about him «settling down.» There was always a reason to postpone the talk about children.

— You know I’m already thirty! — she said quietly. — Doctors say that the older you get, the harder it is to get pregnant and carry a baby!

Kolya waved his hand irritably.

— Ksenia, you’re not planning to have a child when you’re fifty! Many women have healthy children even at forty!

— But I want it now!

— And I don’t! — he cut her off and picked up his phone again. — I have an important presentation coming up, I’m preparing the annual report, now’s not the time to be distracted by diapers and sleepless nights!

Ksenia didn’t answer. She stood up and silently walked to the kitchen. They had been married for three years, and still no children, even though before the wedding, Kolya swore he dreamed of a big family. She loved him, trusted him, and three years ago, when he proposed, she had no doubts. She transferred half of the apartment she inherited from her grandmother into his name, supported him in his career, tolerated his work delays, business trips, and stress.

But now, sitting in the kitchen with a cup of cold tea, she suddenly realized with piercing clarity that perhaps she had been wrong about him all this time.

Two days later, Ksenia decided to stop by Kolya’s office early from work — to invite him to dinner at a café, try again to talk about their future. But as she approached the building, she saw Kolya leaving the office. A young woman was with him — his secretary, Lisa, whom Ksenia had seen a couple of times at corporate events.

Ksenia was about to honk the horn, but her hand froze halfway. Kolya leaned toward Lisa and kissed her — not quickly on the cheek, but long, passionately, on the lips. His hand slid down to her waist and lower, pulling her closer.

Ksenia’s heart clenched, and nausea rose in her throat. She didn’t honk, didn’t shout, didn’t jump out of the car. She simply watched her husband kiss another woman in the street, unashamed, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

When Kolya pulled away from Lisa, he accidentally glanced toward the road and noticed the familiar silver «Honda.» For a moment, their eyes met through the windshield, and Ksenia saw fear on his face.

She hit the gas and drove home without looking back. Now everything made sense. He didn’t want children not because of his career or finances. He just had another woman. Maybe more than one.

At home, Ksenia pulled out a large bag from the closet and began packing Kolya’s things. Slowly. She folded his shirts, pants, socks, underwear. She took his favorite mug off the shelf, cleared his shaving items from the bathroom. Every movement was precise, as if she were carrying out a long-planned operation.

When the bag was almost full, the front door swung open. Kolya stood in the doorway, out of breath.

Kolya burst into the apartment like a hurricane, his face pale, his eyes darting around.

— Ksenia, this is not what you think! — he blurted out from the doorway when he saw his wife holding his things.

Ksenia silently continued packing his clothes into the bag. A sweater, another sweater, a hoodie…

— What are you doing? — Kolya came closer, peering into the bag. — Why are you packing my things?

— What do you think? — Ksenia’s voice was surprisingly calm. — I’m packing your things so you can take them and leave! Forever!

— Listen, what you saw… It was just a misunderstanding!

Ksenia stopped packing the clothes and looked at her husband.

— A misunderstanding? You kissed your secretary in the street, and that’s a misunderstanding? — she shook her head. — Stop lying, at least now!

— But I really can explain! — Kolya grabbed her hand. — She came onto me! I pushed her away, but you must have seen the moment when…

— Enough! — Ksenia jerked her hand away. — I’ve seen enough! You didn’t push her away, you pulled her closer! You kissed her like teenagers, right outside your office, where not only I but also your colleagues could see you!

Kolya’s face changed. The mask of concern slipped away, replaced by irritation.

— So what now? Because of one kiss, you’re going to throw me out of the house?

— One kiss? — Ksenia smiled bitterly. — Do you really think this is just about the kiss? Do you think I’ll believe that there’s nothing more between you two? That you’re not sleeping together? What about your constant reluctance to have children? Your delays at work? Your business trips? How many times have you lied to me in these three years?

Kolya stepped back, as if her words physically pushed him. Then his gaze grew harder.

— Have you thought about how it is for me with you? — his voice grew louder. — All you talk about is children! Children, children, children! Like there’s nothing else in life! Every month, the same thing — “I’m late, let’s take a test”! Have you thought that maybe I don’t want children with you?

Ksenia froze, looking at her husband. His words hit harder than a slap.

— Then why did you marry me? — she asked quietly. — You knew I wanted a family!

— Because you were convenient! — Kolya blurted out. — You have an apartment, a good job! You took care of me, supported me! But as a woman… — he stopped himself, but it was already too late.

— Finish your sentence! — Ksenia said coldly. — As a woman, I don’t satisfy you, do I?

Kolya paused, clearly thinking about his next words.

— You know, Ksenia, I’ve always felt sorry for you! Though you’re beautiful, absolutely stunning! But… — he finally said. — You have no idea how you look from the outside with your desperate desire to have a child! Like a hen trying to lay an egg! Where’s the passion? Where’s the fire? Where’s the desire? You don’t see me as a man, only as a potential father of your children!

— That’s not true! — Ksenia shook her head. — I’ve always loved you as a man! I cared for you, supported you in your endeavors…

— Yes, and that was convenient, — Kolya interrupted. — But it’s not love, it’s care. Like for a child. But I’m a man, I need passion, admiration!

— And you found that passion in the arms of your secretary?

— Lisa makes me feel like a man! She admires me, looks at me with adoration, not like I’m some stud for breeding!

Ksenia couldn’t hold back and laughed — bitterly, with pain.

— You know, Kolya, all this time I thought you didn’t want children because of work, because of your career! But it turns out you just don’t want them with me! That explains a lot!

She zipped up the bag and placed it by the door.

— So take your things and go to the one who makes you feel like a man!

Kolya’s face changed. He clearly didn’t expect such a reaction. Approaching her, he tried to grab Ksenia’s hands.

— Ksenia, I’ve overreacted! Let’s forget what I just said! We’re adults, we can talk about everything!

— There’s nothing to talk about! — Ksenia stepped back. — You’ve said everything! I’m just your convenient housekeeper, whom you’ve tolerated out of pity! Well, you don’t have to tolerate me anymore!

Kolya started panicking. He understood well that he was losing not only his wife but also the roof over his head, as Ksenia was still the primary owner of the apartment.

— You’re just emotional right now! Let’s not make any hasty decisions! — his voice softened. — We’ll think it over tomorrow with a clear mind!

— No, Kolya! The decision is already made! Leave!

Kolya stood still for several seconds, clearly calculating his options. Then he changed tactics.

— Ksenia, you know I’m not going anywhere! — he said quietly but firmly. — This apartment is my home! I’m registered here, I have rights to it!

— A share! You have a share! — Ksenia corrected. — And I’m willing to pay you its value! But you won’t live here anymore!

— You really think you can just throw me out like this? — Kolya sneered. — And where will I go? I don’t have anywhere else to stay!

— That’s not my problem! Go to your Lisa! — Ksenia shrugged. — Or to your parents! Or rent an apartment — with your salary, you can afford it!

Kolya nervously ran his hand through his hair.

— Listen, I overreacted! I said too much! But you won’t throw me out on the street, will you? Let’s cool off, we’ll talk tomorrow!

— No! No “tomorrow”! You’re leaving today!

Kolya went to the window, turning his back on his wife. His shoulders slumped.

— Do you really want this? — he asked quietly. — To destroy everything we had?

— You destroyed it! — Ksenia answered. — The moment you decided you needed another woman!

— I love you! — Kolya suddenly said, turning sharply. — I’ve always loved you! Yes, I got confused, I made a mistake! But can’t you give me a chance?

Ksenia looked at her husband and didn’t recognize him. Where had his self-confidence gone? His arrogance? Now standing before her was a lost man with a pleading look.

— I’m still your husband! — Kolya continued. — We promised each other we’d always be together, in faithfulness! Yes, I stumbled, but I’m ready to fix everything! Give me a chance!

— A chance for what? — Ksenia asked. — So you can continue cheating on me and lying about not wanting children?

— I’ll change! I promise! — he came closer, trying to take her hand. — If you want, we’ll start having a baby right now! I’m ready!

— Now you’re ready? — Ksenia pulled her hand away. — After I caught you with your mistress? And you think I’ll believe you?

— I swear to you, I’ll cut ties with Lisa! — Kolya nearly begged. — She means nothing to me! It was a moment of weakness!

— A weakness that lasted who knows how long! — Ksenia said coldly. — And which explains your reluctance to have children with me!

Kolya sat down on the couch, holding his head in his hands.

— What can I do to make you believe me? I’ll call her in front of you and tell her it’s over!

— Don’t! — Ksenia shook her head. — I’m not interested! Our marriage is over, Kolya! I’m filing for divorce!

At the word “divorce,” Kolya flinched. He looked up, and in his eyes, Ksenia saw fear — real, unfeigned fear.

— Ksenia, don’t do this! — he said. — We bought the car together! In a divorce, you can claim half…

That’s what it was. It wasn’t love, it wasn’t family, it wasn’t relationships that worried him — it was the property. The car they bought a year ago and he was so proud of. Ksenia felt the last remnants of affection for this man fade away in her heart.

— Yes, Kolya! — she said calmly. — In the divorce, I’ll claim half the car! It’s my legal right! Just like the right to throw you out of my apartment!

— You can’t do that! — he jumped off the couch. — I’ve invested so much in that car! I’ve been paying the loan!

— We both paid! — Ksenia reminded him. — And I’ll keep doing that after the divorce! And then, when the loan is paid off, I’ll sell my share!

Kolya grabbed his head.

— Please, Ksenia! Don’t do this! I’m begging you! — his voice cracked, and Ksenia was surprised to see tears in her husband’s eyes. — I love you so much, I can’t live without you! Give me another chance, I swear, I’ll be the perfect husband!

He really knelt before her, trying to embrace her legs. Ksenia stepped back, feeling disgusted.

— No! Don’t try to guilt-trip me, Kolya! You won’t live in my apartment anymore! Go to your little slut!

Kolya stood up from his knees, his face instantly changing. The tears were gone, the pleading expression was gone — now, in front of Ksenia, stood an angry, furious man.

— You’re disgusting! — he hissed through his teeth. — You think it’ll be better without me? Who needs you with your obsession with children?

— It’s already better! — Ksenia replied calmly. — Now I see the real you, not the pathetic mask you just tried to put on!

— Don’t be so sure! — Kolya grabbed the bag with his things. — When you realize it, it’ll be too late! I won’t come back, even if you beg!

— Don’t worry, I won’t! — Ksenia went to the door and opened it.

Kolya looked around the apartment as if trying to memorize or find something valuable to take with him. Then, without saying another word, he rushed out the door.

Ksenia closed it behind him, turned the key in the lock, and leaned against the door. Only now, when he was gone, did she feel her hands trembling. But it wasn’t trembling from despair — it was liberation. Like the heavy burden she had been carrying for the past few years had finally fallen off her shoulders.

Three months passed. Much had changed in Ksenia’s life during that time. She filed for divorce, and the process was going smoothly. Kolya tried to drag it out, called her for “peace talks,” even tried to talk about reconciliation again, but Ksenia was unwavering.

One spring day, sitting in a café with her friend Alia, Ksenia was telling her about the last meeting with her almost ex-husband.

— Can you believe it, yesterday he calls me and asks for a meeting! — Ksenia stirred her cappuccino. — He says it’s an important conversation! I agreed, thinking maybe something really important!

— And what happened? — Alia asked curiously.

— That Lisa kicked him out! — Ksenia couldn’t hold back a smirk. — Apparently, after our breakup, he moved in with her! But yesterday, she threw him out because she found herself a “more promising guy” — some director from another department! Now Kolya’s staying with friends and trying to get back into my place!

— Seriously? And what did you say?

— I said I don’t care about his housing problems! — Ksenia shrugged. — He tried to guilt-trip me, saying I’m cruel and heartless! But you know what? I really don’t care! I don’t feel anything for him anymore — not love, not hate! Just emptiness!

Alia nodded approvingly.

— That’s a good sign! It means you really let him go!

— Yes! — Ksenia smiled. — And you know what’s the most interesting? I’ve signed up for a consultation at the fertility clinic! I decided not to wait for the “perfect moment” or the “right man”! If I want a child — I can do it myself!

— That’s a brave decision! — Alia squeezed her friend’s hand. — I’m proud of you!

A week later, Ksenia met Kolya at the courthouse building. Today, their divorce hearing was scheduled. Kolya looked haggard, unkempt — his gray suit was wrinkled, his stubble unshaven, dark circles under his eyes.

— Ksenia, can we talk again? — he began as soon as she approached. — I’ve rethought a lot…

— No, Kolya! — Ksenia answered firmly. — We’ve already discussed everything! Today the court will put an end to our relationship!

— But the car… — his voice quivered. — Don’t take the car from me at least! It’s all I have left!

— I’m not taking it! — Ksenia replied calmly. — I’m asking for my rightful share! You can buy it from me if you want to keep the car entirely!

— You know I don’t have that kind of money! — he exclaimed. — They demoted me after the whole story with Lisa! I can barely make ends meet!

— Then you’ll have to sell the car and divide the money! Or give me my share in my apartment! — Ksenia shrugged.

There was anger flashing in Kolya’s eyes, but he held back.

— You’ve changed! — he said quietly. — You used to be softer, kinder!

— I haven’t changed! — Ksenia smiled. — I just stopped letting you manipulate me!

An hour later, leaving the courthouse as a divorced woman, Ksenia took a deep breath of the spring air. Ahead of her was a new life — without lies, without manipulation, without constant excuses. A life in which she made decisions and took responsibility for them.

Her phone rang. A message appeared on the screen from the fertility clinic: “Dear Ksenia, a reminder that your initial consultation with Dr. Smirnova is scheduled for tomorrow at 10:00.”

Ksenia smiled. Tomorrow, her journey toward motherhood would begin. A journey that she would take on her terms, in her time…

The Expectations from Family and the Reality of Parenting

Making the decision to have children requires a thorough awareness of the obligations involved. It can be difficult, inconvenient, and far from lonely to raise a child. It’s crucial to understand that while many parents look to their friends and family, particularly their parents, for support, this assistance isn’t always available.

An Inspiring Reddit Tale

A debate was triggered by a Reddit post that was widely shared:

After taking maternity leave, a new mother asked her mother for childcare assistance so she could resume her job. Since 1992, her 64-year-old mother has been a stay-at-home mom and has not worked.

She refused, though, saying she was unwilling to take on the duty again because she had already raised her children. In addition, she advised her daughter to think about remaining at home, as she had done, and letting her partner be the only provider, much like a “traditional” family, if she really wanted a child.

It was not financially feasible for this mother to remain at home. She had to go back to work because she was the main provider for their small family. She and her partner were already having a hard time saving money for a bigger place for their growing child, and they were living in a one-bedroom apartment in a pricey city.

Her mother offered to babysit after she explained their predicament, but only at $20 an hour, with extra late fees if they were late picking up the child.
She also needed bottles, a stroller, a car seat, and extras of everything the baby had at home.

In response to these demands, the mother began looking into infant daycare, which would be closer to their home and more reasonably priced. They were in a challenging situation because both parents were employed full-time and there were no other family members available to assist.

She questioned whether she was mistaken to expect her stay-at-home mother, who spends the majority of her day cooking and watching TV, to provide free childcare while she and her partner worked to improve their financial circumstances as she concluded her post.

Many people found resonance in this story, which brought to light the difficulties of juggling work and parenting, financial hardships, and the complexities of generational expectations.

Charles—my husband, my anchor, my best friend—was taken in a freak accident on a construction site. One minute, we were planning Maggie’s fifth birthday, and the next, I was signing his death certificate. Grief carved out every corner of my soul, but I had our daughter, Maggie. She was six now, all big eyes and bunny hugs, and she gave me a reason to breathe when I didn’t want to.

Then Jacob entered our lives.

He was warm, calm, the kind of man who waited to make sure your coffee order was right and remembered the name of your dog. He didn’t try too hard with Maggie—he let her come to him. Eventually, she did.

I let myself believe again. That I could be loved. That I could build something safe for Maggie and me.

We got married on a quiet little farm. There were ducks, a swing under an oak tree, and the kind of laughter that felt like sunshine in my chest.

But the truth came out on a quiet evening—one that began like any other.

Maggie was already in bed, her bunny tucked under one arm, when she looked up at me and whispered, “Mommy? New-Dad asked me to keep a secret.”

The breath caught in my throat.

“A secret?” I said, forcing calm. “You can always tell me anything, baby.”

Her little fingers fidgeted with the blanket.

“I woke up yesterday after my nap, and I looked for him. He said we’d play video games, remember? But I couldn’t find him. Then… I saw him come out of the basement with a pretty lady in a red dress. He said not to tell you.”

I froze.

Jacob in the basement—with another woman? In our house?

I tucked Maggie in with a kiss and a promise that she’d done nothing wrong. But inside, I was shaking.

Later that night, when Jacob was on the couch pretending to scroll aimlessly through his phone, I confronted him.

He didn’t miss a beat.

“Oh, that? She’s an interior designer,” he laughed. “I was trying to surprise you. I wanted to turn the basement into a family room.”

He took me downstairs and—sure enough—it had been transformed. New paint, cozy lighting, a couch that still had that fresh furniture smell.

It looked like a surprise.

But it didn’t feel like one.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. Something about Maggie’s story—and the designer’s red dress—wouldn’t let me rest. I dug through Jacob’s old social media posts. Buried in the timeline was a photo—two years old—of him with a woman who looked exactly like Maggie described. Blonde hair. Red dress. Wrapped around him like ivy.

I showed the picture to Maggie the next morning.

“That’s her,” she whispered.

Something inside me snapped.

I told Jacob I had a last-minute work trip and took Maggie to my mother’s. Then I set up hidden cameras in the basement and the living room. I knew Jacob wouldn’t notice—he never paid attention to the small stuff.

That night, I waited. Watched. At first, nothing happened. Jacob drank milk from the carton, watched TV, scrolled his phone.

Then—just when I started to think maybe I was wrong—it happened.

Motion detected. Basement camera.

Jacob. The woman in red. Laughing. Kissing.

My blood ran cold.

I drove straight home, heart hammering. I pulled into the driveway just as Jacob walked her to her car.

His face went white when he saw me.

“She’s just the designer,” he said. “She came to fix a few things we missed.”

“At midnight?” I asked. “Is kissing part of her job description too?”

The woman rolled her eyes.

“Oh, please. He’s been lying to both of us. I’m not just some designer—I’ve been with him for years. He said you were just a sad little widow with a big house. An easy score.”

I looked at Jacob, waiting for a denial. A whisper. Anything.

He stayed silent.

I pointed to the street.

“Out. Now.”

The next day, I dumped all his things into trash bags and left them at a construction site. Fitting, I thought.

Then I went to get my daughter.

I took Maggie for ice cream, and as she giggled over chocolate syrup and marshmallows, I leaned over.

“You were very brave, baby,” I said. “You did the right thing.”

“No more secrets,” she said, nodding solemnly.

“No more secrets,” I echoed.

Jacob was gone. The dream I’d built with him—gone. But what remained was the truth, my daughter, and a home filled with love I didn’t have to question.

Sometimes, the worst betrayal shines a light on the deepest strength. I don’t need a man to complete our family. Maggie and I are enough. We always have been.

And that, I’ve come to realize, is the kind of peace no one can fake.

If this story moved you, share it. Because every woman deserves to know: your intuition matters, and your child’s voice—even in whispers—is worth listening to.

Linda Gray’s name is forever etched in television history thanks to her unforgettable role as Sue Ellen Ewing on the hit show Dallas. With over 300 episodes under her belt, Gray’s on-screen presence was magnetic — yet her personal journey has been one filled with both triumphs and heartbreak.

Now 84 years old, Linda Gray continues to inspire with her strength, resilience, and enduring beauty.

Born on September 12, 1940, in Santa Monica, California, Linda grew up in Culver City, not far from the glitz of Hollywood. But behind the backdrop of stardom, her early years were marked by hardship. Diagnosed with polio as a child, she took it in stride — even seeing the idea of using a wheelchair like her grandfather’s as something to aspire to. Her childhood home was chaotic; her mother, a former ballerina, battled alcoholism, leaving Linda and her sister to manage much of the household. Her father, a watchmaker, was steady but emotionally distant.

Despite a rocky start, performance was always in her blood. She put on shows in the neighborhood, took the lead in school plays, and later began modeling for beauty brands and airlines. At just 21, she married photographer Edward Lee Thrasher. Though they had two children together, Jeff and Kehly, their marriage was emotionally cold and creatively stifling. It took Linda 21 years to leave the relationship, but when she did, she was determined to reclaim her life and her dreams.

By the time she finally pursued acting classes in her 30s, Linda was raising children and struggling with her husband’s lack of support for her ambitions. She began working in commercials and earned minor film roles — including the now-legendary gig as Anne Bancroft’s body double in The Graduate (1967). In a full-circle twist, she would later go on to play Mrs. Robinson on stage in London.

Everything changed in 1978 when she landed the role of Sue Ellen Ewing on Dallas. Initially slated for just five episodes, her character quickly became a central figure in the series, known for its sharp-edged drama and tangled personal relationships. Sue Ellen’s complicated marriage to J.R. Ewing, played by Larry Hagman, captivated audiences and made Gray a household name.

Off-screen, Linda and Larry shared a sibling-like relationship. She often playfully scolded him for his off-set antics, and their natural chemistry translated into television magic. “We felt blessed,” she once said. “We don’t know what happened. It was absolute magic.”

Her role on Dallas earned her Golden Globe and Emmy nominations, but more importantly, it gave her a platform and independence. She finally divorced Thrasher in 1983, during the peak of her career. Her son Jeff followed her into the entertainment world, becoming a celebrated director. Tragically, he passed away in 2020 after battling leukemia — a loss Linda marked with a deeply personal tribute, calling him “the kindest, funniest, sweetest human being.”

Even in the face of such grief, Linda’s resilience remains one of her defining traits. She returned to Dallas in its 2012 revival and continued acting in TV roles. Her 2015 memoir, The Road to Happiness Is Always Under Construction, revealed a woman who has faced personal battles with grace and determination — from overcoming illness to confronting addiction and navigating heartbreak.

Today, Linda Gray lives in Santa Clarita, California. She has spoken openly about the lessons she learned from her mother’s struggles, her failed marriage, and the ups and downs of Hollywood. Through it all, she’s stayed grounded, passionate about her craft, and committed to living life on her own terms.

Looking at her now — radiant, elegant, and still going strong — it’s clear that Linda Gray is much more than a television icon. She’s a woman who’s embraced every twist and turn of her journey and emerged stronger for it.

Her story is not just one of fame, but of courage, perseverance, and self-discovery. And for that, she remains deeply admired by fans around the world.

Despite the difficulties of pregnancy, a mother chose love over fear. Learn about her remarkable journey to a healthy baby and a newfound sense of joy.

The news that Olesia was pregnant was a dream come true for her, as pregnancy is often a time of excitement and expectation. She was excited to start the wonderful journey of bringing her baby into the world, just like countless women around the world.

Kelly Sikkemaon Unsplash took the picture.

Olesia had routine ultrasounds during her pregnancy, and everything seemed to be normal. However, when doctors discovered anomalies in her unborn child during a crucial scan, her entire world changed.

In addition to some organs appearing swollen, the baby’s hands were not developing normally. Olesia and her husband, Eugen, were devastated by the news. The couple, however, never thought of giving up on their child in spite of their grief. They had an unwavering love for their unborn child.

The doctors were open and honest, stating that life-changing changes would be necessary to raise a child with these difficulties. Given the potential emotional and physical strain of raising a child with special needs, they even recommended adoption as a workable solution.

Obstetrical Difficulties

Camila Cordeiro took this picture on Unsplash.

Eugen and Olesia remained steadfast. They gave the medical staff their word that they were prepared to take on any obstacles that might arise. They acknowledged their comprehension of the situation by signing documents, but their determination was unwavering.

Rather than giving up, Eugen focused his energies on getting ready for the birth of their child. Eugen got to work designing a cozy and affectionate nursery for their child while Olesia concentrated on keeping herself healthy.

The couple’s daughter, Nadejda, was born a few months later. She was born in perfect health, which surprised and relieved everyone. The abnormal results were later found to be caused by a large uterine fibroid that had affected Olesia’s ultrasounds.

J. Fox, the award-winning actor, considers fatherhood his most cherished role. Married to Tracy Pollan for over 30 years, they share four children. Fox humorously mentioned to Reader’s Digest that it sometimes feels like five.

Fox emphasizes the importance of always being available for his children: “Always be available to your kids. Because if you say, ‘Give me five minutes, give me 10 minutes,’ it’ll be 15, it’ll be 20. And then when you get there, the shine will have worn off whatever it is they wanted to share with you.”

Diagnosed with Parkinson’s in 1991, Fox praised his children for their empathy and resilience. His Instagram often features his close bond with them. On Mother’s Day 2022, he wrote to Pollan, “Our children are beautiful, sensitive, intelligent, empathetic, independent, compassionate, adventurous, lovely people. That’s your fault.”

I used to think meeting Jason was a stroke of fate.

At the time, I had everything lined up: a stable job at a well-known firm, a cozy Brooklyn apartment, and my son, Jamie—five years old and full of light. When Jason entered the picture, he was charming, grateful, and in need of a place to stay. I didn’t hesitate.

“He treats Jamie like his own,” I told my best friend when he moved in.

“You barely know him,” she warned. But I was too taken with his warmth to care.

I even used my contacts to get him a job. He rose quickly—new clothes, a car, the confidence of someone who knew how to play the part. A year later, he proposed.

“You don’t need to work anymore,” he said. “Focus on Jamie. I’ll take care of us.”

And I believed him.

At first, it felt like I was living the dream. But slowly, things changed.

Jason started complaining about Jamie—too sensitive, too quiet, not “boy enough.” Money got tight, even though he had a steady paycheck. When I asked, he always had an excuse: delayed transfers, unexpected expenses. It never made sense, but I didn’t push. I didn’t want to see what was really happening.

Eventually, I started picking up night shifts as a rideshare driver. It was the only way to keep things afloat without upsetting the fragile balance at home.

One night, I returned after my shift to find Martha—our neighbor—in her robe with Jamie asleep in her lap.

“He was perfect,” she whispered, stroking his hair. “Like my own grandbaby. I don’t mind watching him.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” I told her.

But she frowned. “And Jason? Does he know how hard you’re working?”

“He knows,” I lied. “He’s just… busy.”

I didn’t know just how “busy” he really was—until that night.

It was supposed to be another uneventful pickup. A man in a gray coat. A woman with red lipstick. They slid into the back seat like any couple on a romantic night out.

Then I looked into the mirror—and my blood ran cold.

Jason. With someone else.

They didn’t recognize me. My hoodie was pulled low, the cab dark. I stayed quiet and drove.

“I thought you were going to cancel again,” she whispered.

“Not tonight,” Jason said, pulling her close. “I missed you.”

They kissed. I gripped the steering wheel so tightly my hands ached.

“My parents want to meet you,” she said. “They said they’ll gift me a house if they think we’re serious. You know… engaged.”

Jason laughed. “So we’re playing house now?”

She giggled. “They’re old-fashioned. But it’s worth it. Two houses, maybe—live in one, rent the other.”

Jason’s voice dropped. “As soon as Abby gets her inheritance, I’m out. Her mom’s not doing well. It’ll happen soon.”

I kept my eyes forward, my breath calm, even though everything inside me was breaking.

“Saturday, then,” she said.

“Perfect,” Jason replied. “I’ll come up with something at home.”

Saturday. Our anniversary.

I dropped them off at a modest house—the kind he claimed was “business travel.” He handed me cash, never once looking at my face.

“Thanks, buddy,” he said, and disappeared inside.

I sat there in silence, then whispered into the night:

“Game on, Jason.”

On Tuesday, I made his favorite stew. Lit a candle. When he walked into the kitchen, I was all smiles.

“Do you remember what Saturday is?”

He paused. “Anniversary, right? Yeah. Nine years. That watch, huh?”

I nodded. “I booked the place by the lake. A reservation for two at eight.”

He winced. “Ah, Saturday’s tough. Big business trip. But… we’re not a date-night couple anyway, right?”

“Of course,” I said sweetly. “No big deal.”

Saturday came.

I dressed Jamie in his green dinosaur shirt, the one he adored. I wore the same dress I had on our first date. As I fixed my makeup, I barely recognized the woman in the mirror.

“Where are we going?” Jamie asked in the car.

“To a party,” I said. “But be polite, okay? Even if people lie.”

Ashley’s house was larger than I expected. Balloons. A grill smoking in the backyard. Music. Laughter.

I rang the doorbell.

Ashley answered—her smile froze when she saw me.

“Hi. You must be Ashley. I’m Jason’s wife.”

She stumbled back. Her parents came to the door, confused. Jason appeared behind them, drink in hand. When he saw me—his face drained.

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart,” I said, handing him my wedding ring. “Jamie and I thought we’d drop by. He really wanted ice cream.”

Jamie peeked around me. “Hi, Daddy!”

Ashley’s mom gasped.

“Daddy?” she whispered.

I turned to Ashley’s father. “Your daughter invited a married man to dinner. He’s been living with me and my son. Told us he was on business trips. Turns out, this was the business.”

Ashley’s mouth opened, then snapped shut.

Jason tried to speak.

“Not now,” I snapped. “I stood by you when you had nothing. Helped you build a life. And this is what I get?”

I looked at Ashley. “I hope the second house is worth it.”

We left to a chorus of gasps, raised voices, and slamming doors.

I didn’t flinch. Not once.

Three months later, Jason showed up in divorce court—alone.

Ashley’s parents testified for me. Turns out, being embarrassed publicly will do that to a person.

I won everything. Full custody. The apartment. The savings. Even the car he’d used for his ‘business trips.’

I moved my mother in with us. Sold the apartment. We bought a little place by the water—simple, sunny, and honest.

Jamie has space to grow. I have room to breathe. And peace?

That’s something Jason could never fake.

Susan barely slept that night.

The call echoed in her mind like a bitter song on repeat. She sat at her kitchen table long after the moon had crept across the sky, her cup of tea cold, untouched. Her fingers ached from wringing her hands, from all the thoughts that came and went—mainly one:

“We don’t owe you anything.”

She had heard many things in her life—some cruel, some careless—but never that. Not from her own son.

Ben had been a sickly baby. She remembered nights pacing the floor, whispering lullabies through her exhaustion, praying his fever would break. She remembered patching torn school uniforms, baking cookies for school events, cheering the loudest at football games. Every scraped knee, every broken heart—she had been there.

And now, this.

By sunrise, she had made a decision. Not out of anger, but out of clarity.

The delivery men arrived promptly at 9 a.m. They found the old washing machine already unhooked, ready at the curb. Susan handed them her card, thanked them kindly, and once they were gone, she went inside to her computer

She didn’t call her son again. She didn’t try to explain. She didn’t argue.

Instead, she opened a document she had last updated years ago: her will.

She read through it line by line, taking a long, slow breath. Then she made a change. Several, actually.

By 11 a.m., the legal documents were finalized with a notary and sent off.

At noon, she posted a message in the community center’s senior forum:

“Looking for help around the house—willing to offer a rent-free room and stipend to a student or young adult with a kind heart. No experience necessary. Just kindness.”

By the next morning, Susan had ten responses. One stood out—a young nursing student named Lily, raised by her grandmother. She moved in the following week, and Susan, for the first time in years, felt warmth return to her home.

The following month, Ben called—this time with urgency.

“Mom, what the hell is this?” His voice trembled with disbelief. “You’re leaving everything to a stranger?”

Olivia’s voice shrieked in the background: “She’s lost her mind!”

Susan remained calm. “Not a stranger. A kind soul who helped me when I needed it.”

“But Mom—” Ben tried again.

“I asked for help once,” she said softly. “And you told me you owed me nothing. So now… I’ve asked someone else.”

Ben was silent. The words caught in his throat.

Susan didn’t hang up. She just waited.

Then, gently, she said, “You made your choice. And now, so have I.”

She ended the call.

And this time, she didn’t cry. She looked out the window as Lily tended the garden—her garden—and smiled.

Because sometimes, family isn’t who you raise… it’s who shows up when you need them most. 🌱