Kirill leisurely approached the doors of a private clinic in the center of the capital.

He had been here many times before, and each time this place caused him only an unpleasant feeling of irritation and fatigue. He always preferred to take the stairs without using the elevator. There was often someone riding in the elevator, and he had no desire to cross paths with other patients or doctors.

He liked to take the stairs so no one would look him in the face or ask him questions, even polite ones. This time he was holding a bouquet of flowers, from the ones he had hastily bought on the way in. Small roses, as white as the hospital walls.

He knew that Larissa would hardly be able to see or smell them, but to appear in front of doctors and relatives without flowers would look strange. Especially now that his wife had been in a coma for a month. Flowers seemed like a waste of money, but Kirill gritted his teeth, at least somehow it was necessary to maintain the appearance of a caring husband.

In the corridor of the clinic he was met by a bright white light. Kirill grimaced and squinted, his eyes were sore after the night’s adventures. He spent the evening and night in a bar with friends, smoking hookah, drinking, remembering the old days, when life was not so confusing and complicated.

He absolutely hated to go home, but he had to be dragged to a cab at the end of it, and in the morning, as usual, he was greeted by an unpleasant dry feeling in his mouth and a pain in his temples. Before entering the clinic, he stopped at the mirrored display case, trying to clean himself up. His look was tired, his face was pale, and his eyes were red and clouded.

He hurriedly pulled some mint gum out of his pocket and popped a few pops into his mouth to drown out the smell of alcohol. Kirill ran a hand through his hair, smoothed out the loose strands, adjusted the collar of his shirt. He seemed to look a little better, but his reflection still showed his fatigue, which could not be hidden so easily.

As Kirill walked up the stairs, his thoughts began to return to the hard reality. Every day that Larissa spent in this private clinic was costing him a large sum of money. The figures that the doctors had voiced at the first consultations had already popped into his head several times.

All this equipment, care, procedures, every day of her stay in a coma, was taking money out of his pocket. Money he could have used very differently. With each step upstairs, Kirill realized more and more clearly that his irritation was only growing.

How long would it last? Larisa had not shown signs of improvement for a long time, but everyone around him kept talking about optimistic prognoses, which required a lot of investment. Of course, in front of Larissa’s parents and doctors he looked caring, but inside he was growing increasingly dissatisfied. He thought about the possibilities that would open up if Larissa died, her apartment, money, all the real estate and business, everything would be left to him…

Since their marriage, Larissa had never once given him full control of the company, although Kirill had always thought he would have done a better job of it. His ambitions are growing, isn’t he worthy of taking over the company his wife has been running? She had already done her thing, built the business, and now he could manage her legacy himself and finally step out of her shadow. That said, as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t risk moving her to a cheaper clinic.

It would look strange, and it would immediately raise questions from her parents, and the doctors as well. They might begin to suspect his true intentions. He wasn’t going to lose the mask of a caring husband, it was easier and safer that way.

Kirill clutched the stems of the bouquet tighter, thinking about the upcoming meeting with Larisa’s parents. He knew that they, especially Svetlana, were watching his every move, assessing his facial expression and tone. A little more, and he would be taken for a favorite son-in-law, ready to spend day and night near his sick wife.

Kirill even learned to skillfully portray a sad and tired face, a little squint, as if from lack of sleep, sigh deeply, as if in his soul is empty. He realized that the flowers, and this ostentatious grief, were just a screen. But he could not give up this role.

It depended on it, how long he could remain without suspicion while Larissa lay in a coma, while it was not clear how long her condition would last. Every time he assured himself that it was only to make sure that everything went off without too many questions, and that no one would try to look into his soul. And what would happen to him if Larisa’s parents realized that his concern was just a mask.

Just a little more patience, he told himself. Just a few more weeks or months. And then everything would be fine.

As he approached the room, Kirill slowed his step when he heard muffled voices. He recognized Dr. Brusin’s voice; he spoke smoothly but loudly, as if he were explaining something. Kirill stopped at the door, inwardly cringing at the pungent smell of disinfectant.

It didn’t bother him to eavesdrop; he knew that if he went in now, he’d have to pretend to be attentive and sympathetic, and he just didn’t have the energy for that. Last week was a difficult moment, but we were able to stabilize her condition, Brusin said confidently. Now it is important to keep a positive attitude and do everything to support Larisa.

Doctor, the excited voice of Svetlana, Larisa’s mother, trembled, as if she was trying to hold back tears. Is there any chance? Could she get out of this coma? Kirill rolled his eyes. He had heard these desperate questions more than once, but it irritated him how each time the doctor avoided a direct answer, encouraging them and making them hopeful.

Listening to Brusin talk again about the chances of recovery, Kirill felt irritation coming up to his throat. All this reminded him of a senseless waste of money, which he could not stop. Svetlana Petrovna, we are doing everything possible, continued Brusin gently.

The prognosis is positive. Larisa has a young body, it makes a big difference. As practice shows, in such situations it is important to surround the patient with care.

Gradually we are seeing slight improvements, and that’s a good sign. Svetlana sobbed, thank you doctor, thank you for not giving up. Kirill wanted to burst in and say it was all idle chatter, but instead he clutched the bouquet tighter, feeling his irritation overwhelm him.

It seemed to him that Brusin was just making money off their family, deliberately keeping Larissa in this state to pull money from them. Dr. Brusin stood by Larissa’s bedside, looking at her pale face and the pulsing vitals on the monitor screen. He turned to Svetlana and Boris, who stood nearby, embracing each other, and tried to speak softly, with the caution that was important in cases like this.

Svetlana Petrovna, Boris Alekseevich, he began, nodding slightly, “Now it’s important for us to continue to surround Larisa with care. You know, studies have shown that coma patients can often hear the voices of loved ones. The more we communicate with them, the better the chances of their recovery…..

So you’re saying she can hear us?” Svetlana raised her head slightly, looking at the doctor hopefully. Her eyes were reddened with tears, but there was a glow of desperation mixed with a faint faith in them. Yes, nodded the doctor, looking at her.

We can’t know for sure, but there is reason to believe that she can perceive sounds and even individual words. If you talk to her, share your memories, tell her something good, it may stimulate her brain and possibly improve her condition. The main thing is to keep a positive attitude, no matter how difficult it is.

Svetlana nodded quickly and shook her husband’s hand more firmly. “Of course, doctor, of course. We’ll talk to her, we’ll be there for her, she needs to know that we love her and are waiting for her.

Why, what else can we do?” Boris, usually reserved and calm, now looked vulnerable and worried too. The doctor thought for a moment, then continued. “You could bring her something familiar, maybe her favorite music, audio recordings of your voices or favorite stories.

Doctors who have worked with such patients have noticed that such stimulation has a positive effect on their condition. Anything that reminds them of life and family can awaken some hidden reactions.” Svetlana clung to her husband again and sobbing whispered, “We’ll do everything, Boris, everything we can.”

“She’ll hear us, I’m sure. Our girl will come back to us,” Dr. Brusin smiled encouragingly as he looked at these parents who were clinging to every opportunity to help their daughter. He nodded once more to show that he believed in their strength.

Kirill, who was standing at the door watching this conversation from the shadows, felt his irritation rising. It all sounded like useless chatter, this advice that one should talk, one should hope. He barely held back a groan when the doctor mentioned positivity again.

In his eyes, it all looked like an empty attempt to delay the inevitable. No matter how hard Svetlana and Boris tried, it all just didn’t make sense in Kirill’s opinion. He knew that Larissa would have died a long time ago, if it hadn’t been for this expensive treatment, these damned machines and the obliging, too correct Dr. Brusin, who seemed ready to pull out every last penny.

He wanted it all to be over soon, to stop all this meaningless talk about stimulation and attention once and for all. Kirill stood at the door of the room where Larissa was lying, and his thoughts involuntarily drifted into the past. He remembered the moment when he saw her for the first time, it was a business forum where construction projects and materials were discussed.

Larisa was on stage as a speaker. He had never imagined that a woman could hold herself so confidently and calmly in front of an audience full of powerful men. She radiated confidence, spoke clearly and convincingly, without a shadow of doubt in her voice.

As soon as she started speaking, all his doubts and preconceived notions about women in business vanished. She literally captivated everyone in the audience. After the speech, he had the courage to approach her, even though he felt insecure.

He was just a manager in a building materials company, and she was the head of a large construction business. However, Larissa met his interest with a friendly smile and ease, as if disregarding his humble position. She did not ask unnecessary questions, did not emphasize his position, it did not matter to her.

This rigid business world seemed like a less intimidating environment in her company, and that sense of comfort quickly turned to charm. Larissa was different, and that was what attracted him. The first few months of their marriage passed as if in a serene fairy tale.

Larissa surrounded him with comfort, everything he had only dreamed of before became part of his new life. She bought him an expensive car, introduced him to important people, and Kirill felt how quickly his status began to grow. At some point he even began to forget who he was before – an ordinary manager who could not even imagine a life full of comfort and influential acquaintances.

But the more he immersed himself in this new world, the stronger his desire to rise higher became. Everything that seemed like a privilege, in time began to be taken for granted. Kirill began to wonder why he, being Larisa’s husband, remained on the second role…..