Spring light flooded the hospital ward in one of Kyiv’s hospitals, making it not as lifeless as it seemed on cloudy days.
Alena Sergeeva deftly changed the IV of an elderly patient, whose exhausted face brightened at the sight of the young nurse. Alyonochka, you’re our angel, the woman whispered, smiling faintly. Are you probably getting ready for the wedding? You’re glowing.
Alena shyly adjusted a strand of blond hair that had fallen out from under her cap and nodded. A modest ring with a small stone glittered on her ring finger. Two weeks left, Maria Stepanovna.
The dress is ready, the restaurant is booked. She sighed dreamily. Kirill says that this will be the most beautiful wedding in Kyiv.
Of course! The old woman nodded understandingly. The son of such parents, and a businessman himself. And you deserve happiness.
You have golden hands and a kind heart. Having finished the procedure, Alena carefully adjusted the patient’s pillow and blanket. Try to get some sleep, Maria Stepanovna.
I’ll drop by in an hour. Going out into the corridor, she took her phone out of her medical gown pocket. Three messages from Kirill, meet at 1800 in Riviera.
We need to discuss something about the wedding. The girl’s heart sank. Here it is, the happiness she had always dreamed of.
Life with a loved one, perhaps children soon, a real family. After six years in an orphanage in Cherkassy and adoption as a teenager by Irina Nikolaevna. And then a difficult path to education and profession in Kyiv, this seemed an almost incredible gift of fate.
The Riviera cafe was considered one of the most expensive in their area of Kyiv. Kirill was already waiting at a table in the corner, absentmindedly stirring his untouched coffee with a spoon. Something in his posture, his tense shoulders and his avoidant gaze made Alena slow down.
A premonition stabbed her heart like a cold needle. Hello! She sat down opposite him, trying to catch his eye. Did you want to discuss something about the wedding? Kirill finally looked at her seriously, even coldly.
She had never seen such a look from him. He looked like a complete stranger. We need to talk, his voice sounded rehearsed, like a business presentation.
I can’t marry you. The words hit her in the gut, taking her breath away. Alena blinked, trying to comprehend what she had heard.
What are you? What are you saying? She stammered, feeling the floor slipping out from under her feet. I’m sorry, but this will be better for both of us. He said it in the tone in which they say about postponing a business meeting.
You are wonderful, but… We are too different. I have new prospects. Alena sat stunned, not fully understanding the meaning of the words.
Only now did she notice that Kirill’s ring finger was missing the engagement ring she had given him a month ago. What prospects? The words came out on their own, although an inner voice screamed that he shouldn’t ask, shouldn’t hurt more. Kirill sipped his coffee, as if considering whether to tell the truth.
Veronica. Daughter of Stanislav Petrovich, his father’s partner. We.
We became close when we discussed a joint project. Every word was like a whiplash. Alena looked at him and didn’t recognize the man she had lived with for almost two years, whom she trusted unconditionally.
And when were you going to tell me? Her voice was shaking, but she held on with all her might, not letting the tears fall. Not here, not in front of him. I’m telling you now, he shrugged, as if he was doing her a favor.
I called off the wedding. He had already called the restaurant, they wouldn’t return the deposit, but that wasn’t a problem. His eyes were swimming in circles from shock, pain, and the realization that his hopes were naive.
And how could he? He didn’t let her finish, as if he was rushing to finish the unpleasant rozmow. By the way, I’d like to ask you to return the ring. It’s a family heirloom, you know? Grandma will be very upset if it.
Leaves the family. That was the last straw. Alena slowly took off the ring she was so proud of, which she had told all her friends about, imagine, his grandmother had worn this ring.
A tiny diamond sparkled in the light of the cafe lamps when she put the ring on the table. Well? Thank you for your honesty, she stood up, feeling a strange numbness. Good luck with your.
Prospects. And she left without looking back, preserving the remnants of her dignity until she disappeared around the corner of the building. Only there, in a narrow alley on Podil, did she allow herself to lean against the cold brick wall and burst into tears, clasping her shoulders with her hands.
The apartment greeted her with an unfamiliar emptiness. Two weeks ago, Alena had moved most of her things to the apartment that she and Kirill had rented for a shared life in the center of Kyiv, before buying their own home. Now, hastily packed bags with her belongings stood at the threshold.
Someone clearly not Kirill, most likely his mother, carefully packed everything that belonged to Alena. She sorted clothes, books, cosmetics into categories. Everything that was left of an unfulfilled dream.
Alena slowly sank to the floor next to the bags. Where to go? She had vacated her rented room in Goloseevo, handing it over to another girl. There was a week left until payday, and there was no money for a new deposit, all the savings had gone into preparing for the wedding.
The phone rang unexpectedly loudlyin the silence of an empty apartment. Foster mother. As she always senses when her daughter is feeling bad.
Alyonushka, where have you disappeared to? I called, I wanted to ask about the shoes. Irina Nikolaevna’s voice was so familiar, so warm, that the tears flowed with renewed vigor. This woman, who adopted her 13 years ago in Cherkassy, became her real mother, the only truly close person.
Mom. That’s all she could say, choking with sobs. An hour later, Alena was already in her mother’s small two-room apartment in Troyeshchyna.
Irina Nikolaevna, a petite woman with prematurely gray hair, was brewing strong tea, furtively wiping away tears every now and then. She didn’t ask any unnecessary questions, sensing that her daughter was not yet ready to talk. “You’ll stay with me as long as you need,” that’s all she said, putting a cup of tea in front of Alena.