When Valentina married Artyom, she was only twenty-two girl. She believed he is her desitny.
From the first days, the mother-in-law greeted him with caution. Her look spoke for itself: “You are not a match for my son.” Valya tried her best – she cleaned, cooked, adjusted.
Artyom was silent. He grew up in a family where his mother’s word was law. Even when she began to feel weak, she attributed it to fatigue.
The diagnosis happened suddenly.
The doctors shook their heads. That night, Valya cried into her pillow, hiding the pain from her husband.
One day his mother-in-law came to him and quietly said:
– You’re young, you have a long life ahead of you. And with this one… she’s just a burden. Why do you need her? Take her to the village, to Aunt Dunya. It’s quiet there, no one will judge you there. You’ll have some rest. And then you’ll begin a new life.
He didn’t answer.
Valya was silent the whole way.
“It will be quiet here,” he said. “You will feel better.”
“Will you come back?” she muttered.
He didn’t answer. He just nodded briefly and left.
But d3ath was in no hurry.
Three months passed. Six. And one day a paramedic came to the village. Young, with a kind look. He started visiting her, putting in IVs, fiddling with medicines. Valya didn’t ask for help – she just didn’t want to pass away anymore.
And a miracle occured. First, a little bit – she got out of bed. Then she went out onto the porch. Then she reached the store. People were amazed:
– Are you coming back to life, Valyusha?
“I don’t know,” she responded. “I just want to live.”
A year passed. One day a car arrived in the village. Artem got out.
Valentina was sitting on the porch, in a blanket, with a cup of tea. Rosy, lively, with clear eyes. He was stunned.
– Are you… are you alive?
She looked calmly.
— Did you predict something different?
– I thought you…
“D3ad?” she finished. “Yes, almost. But that’s what you wanted, right?”
He was silent.
— I really wanted to leave. In that house where the roof was leaking, where my hands were freezing from the cold, where no one was around — I wanted to pass away. But someone came every evening. Someone wasn’t afraid of the snowstorm, didn’t expect gratitude. He just did his job. And you left me. Not because you couldn’t be there — but because you didn’t want to.
“I’m confused,” he whispered. “Mom…”
– Your mother won’t save you, Artyom, – Valya spoke softly but firmly.
– Not before God, not before yourself. Take your documents. You won’t get an inheritance. I brought the house to the man who saved my life.
Aunt Dunya watched from her doorstep.
– Go, son, and don’t come back.
A week passed after Artyom left. He didn’t say anything – he just left. Valentina didn’t cry.
But fate commanded otherwise.
One day, a stranger appeared at the porch – in a black jacket, with a shabby briefcase in his hands. He asked if Valentina Mezentseva lived there.
“I,” she answered cautiously.
The notary sheepishly handed over a folder with documents.
— You have… a will. Your father passed away. According to the papers, you are the sole heir to an apartment in the city and a bank account. A large sum is due.
Valya froze. A thought flashed through her mind: “I don’t have a father.”
My heart sank.
— A memorial service?
– Yes. He gathered everyone himself, said that you left in terrible agony. And a month later he sold your apartment. He said that he could not live there anymore.
Two days later she left for the city. Everything was confirmed. The apartment, the money, the documents – everything was transferred to her by law. She entered a new life no longer as a woman who was left to pass away in an abandoned house, but as a person capable of deciding her own fate.
But the story doesn’t end there.
One day, Valya was walking through the market and suddenly saw him – Artyom. Next to another woman. Pregnant.
Their eyes met. Artyom froze.
– Valya…
“You didn’t expect that?” she asked calmly.
“Did you really think that I would remain d3ad to the whole world?”
His companion looked at him questioningly.
– Who is this?
“An old friend,” he answered informally.
Valya smiled slightly:
– Yes, very old. The kind you buried long ago.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
“Now yes,” answered Valya. “I got my name back.”
But life, as always, was arranging new directions.
Ilya often dropped by. He didn’t rush her, didn’t pressure her. He brought her groceries, helped her with the housework, cooked borscht, and was silent next to her when she just needed to be with herself.
One quiet winter evening, while snow was falling outside the window, Valya said:
– You know, for the first time I feel alive. How strange, isn’t it?
Ilya smiled:
– Sometimes, to start breathing, you have to suffocate.
She looked at him for a long moment. Then, for the first time in a long time, she leaned against his shoulder.
A month later, Valya felt weak. At first she thought it was a cold. Then she thought it was fatigue. But the doctor, with a friendly smile, said something else:
– Congratulations, Valentina. You’re pregnant.
She froze.
During the ultrasound the doctor showed the screen:
– Everything is fine. One baby.
Ilya hugged her without asking any unnecessary questions. He just held her tightly.
“We can do this,” he said. “Together.”
And one day, while looking through the local newspaper, Valya came across a note:
“Man arrested for fraud. Accused of forging documents, organizing the fictitious death of his ex-wife and selling her property”
Name: Artem Mezentsev.
My heart sank sharply.
Two years passed.
Life seemed solid, like fresh bread on the table – warm, filling, reliable. Lizochka grew up as a cheerful child with a summer look and dimples on her cheeks.
It seemed like everything worked out.
But one morning a letter arrived.
A yellow envelope, uneven handwriting. Just a few lines:
“Are you sure he loves you? That Lisa is his daughter? Check. And don’t be surprised to learn the truth. Is Ilya too good? Everyone has their own secrets.”
The phone rang. The number was hidden.
– Valentina? Is that you? – The voice was muffled, almost alien.
– Don’t trust him. Ilya is not who he claims to be. Look at his past.
The connection was lost.
Valya was silent. She did not talk to Ilya. One night she looked into his office.
There were her medical records. Photos, bank statements, even a copy of her father’s will.
Her heart sank.
He knew everything about her. In advance.
Footsteps in the corridor. He entered.
– Are you seeking something, Valya?
She turned around slowly.
– Who are you?
“The one who saved you when everyone else turned away,” he answered calmly. “But you already guessed: none of this was an accident.”
– Did you know about me?
– Yes. From the very beginning. I was given a task. But then… I stayed for you. Changed my life.
– Who gave the assignment?
— People who needed an apartment. Money. And you. But they didn’t know that I would lose everything for you.
And one day the last message came:
“May 23, 19:00. Park on Yuzhnaya. If you don’t come, your daughter won’t live to see school.”
She came.
– Congratulations, Valentina. You turned out to be stronger than we thought.
– Who are you?
— Your father’s former partner. We worked together. He left you more than you think. Documents. Contacts. Certificates. And as long as you have it, you’re in danger.
– What if I give it away?
“I don’t know anything!” Valentina blurted out.
“You will find out. And quickly,” the man replied.
Everything fell into place.
Father wanted to atone for his guilt before his passing. He left her all this, thinking that this would protect her. But instead of protection, he received a curse.
“This is a real bomb,” he said, running his eyes over the materials. “Do you understand that now they will definitely not leave you alone?”
– I understand. But I will not remain silent any longer. I have already been “k*lled” once. It will not happen again.
Three days later, the article was published.
And Valya stood by the window and watched as Lisa drew with a pencil – with her little hands she drew the sun on the sheet of paper.
“This is for you, Mommy,” the girl whispered. “You are my sunshine.”
A week later Ilya returned.
“I won’t make excuses,” he said quietly. “Yes, I was part of the game. But you are not part of the plan. You are the meaning. If you let me, I will stay with you. Forever.”
Valya looked into his eyes for a long time. And then she nodded.
– One condition.
– Which?
– Not a single lie. Even if the truth is the most terrible thing in the world.
He hugged her silently. Six months have passed. The case was officially ended.
One day she wrote:
“They tried to kill me not with a bullet, but with cold, lies, loneliness. But I survived. Because in the darkest moment, someone reached out to me.
If you are hurting now, know this: darkness is never eternal. The sun always returns.
You just have to wait for it.”
