It was an oppressively hot day, and the bus Olga rode felt like a furnace on wheels. Open hatches and windows did little to relieve the stifling heat, much to the passengers’ dismay as the traffic jam stretched on endlessly. Returning from her job as a veterinarian, Olga distracted herself with thoughts of dinner. Though her mind wandered to gourmet delights like marbled beef or truffle ravioli, reality quickly brought her back to a simpler comfort: buckwheat with meat patties.
Seated by the window, Olga watched the evening city bustle. The light lingered, casting long shadows where people hurried on errands or leisurely strolled beneath the cool shade of tree-lined alleys. A man walked past with a Basset Hound—a breed Olga knew well from her years in veterinary practice. Then a young couple pushed a stroller; their baby stood up, gripping the visor with a toothless grin. A wave of sadness washed over Olga. After five years and countless medical visits, she and her husband remained childless, the cause of their infertility a mystery.
Trying to shake off the gloom, Olga’s attention shifted to a couple nearby locked in a passionate embrace. The sweetness of their affection stirred a pang of envy. In her eighth year of marriage, Olga barely remembered the intoxicating thrill of passionate love—the kind that made one forget decorum and surrender to raw emotion.
Eventually, the man disentangled himself from the kiss. The woman, a plump blonde with a snub nose, laughed heartily as she held him close. Then he turned and crossed the street—and Olga’s heart stopped. It was Anton, her husband. Helpless behind the bus windows and trapped by traffic, she watched as he slipped his arm around the blonde and helped her into a taxi. Torn between calling him or capturing proof of his betrayal, Olga’s mind spun in disbelief as the taxi disappeared.
She had met Anton in university, introduced by her friend Svetka at a birthday party. Four years her senior, Anton was instantly smitten by Olga’s elegant long legs and deep brown eyes. Now, staring out the window, the spark that once ignited their love seemed a cruel memory overshadowed by this harsh reality.
Anton had always been reliable—a hard worker with an apartment downtown and a decent car. Not romantic by nature, he showed love through practical gifts like boots or a warm jacket, which Olga appreciated. After graduation, they married and built a life together. Yet the shadow of infertility loomed, alongside Anton’s relentless pursuit of wealth. He poured himself into his business, leaving Olga to manage the household finances alone. She longed for a seaside vacation, but Anton’s endless business trips kept her waiting.
A few months earlier, Svetka had told Olga she saw Anton dining with a woman at an upscale restaurant. Olga dismissed it, blaming Svetka’s poor eyesight.
As traffic finally cleared, Olga’s mind raced through scenarios—from a quiet divorce to darker fantasies. But she resolved on a different kind of revenge, one to haunt Anton’s dreams.
She disembarked mechanically, bought a cake, and at home, stared at her reflection—bewildered by Anton’s betrayal despite the admiration she received from other men. She called Svetka, breaking down. “I saw him with another woman.”
Svetka comforted her, “Ol, I told you. You don’t need that miser. And I’ve seen him with all sorts.”
Olga laughed bitterly. “A skinny scarecrow? She was at least 150 kilos!”
“Then it wasn’t her,” Svetka said, relieved.
“Multiple women,” Olga realized, chilled.
“I’ll call after work,” Svetka said, ending the call.
Alone with the cake, Olga’s self-pity soon gave way to resolve. When Anton arrived unannounced, greeting her with a casual “Hello, bunny,” she served him the cake for dinner with a flat tone.
“Cake for dinner?” he asked, amused.
“No, just cake,” she said, sitting down.
“Are you on your period or something?” he muttered, rummaging in the kitchen.
Olga ignored him, retreating to plot.
After a silent meal, Anton announced a business trip. When she asked where, he mumbled vague details about industrial towns and warehouses.
“When will we relax? I haven’t seen the sea in years,” she lamented.
“We’ll invest now and enjoy later,” he replied, leaning in for a kiss.
“I have a headache,” she said, turning away.
The next morning, she feigned illness at work, then called Svetka, who revealed Anton’s real destination: the sea.
Olga booked a ticket on a flight a few hours after his. She packed a modest bag—and the suspicious gift found in Anton’s suitcase—and left.
At the resort, she donned a turquoise swimsuit and the gold dragonfly pendant, a stunning piece Anton had bought for his mistress. On the crowded beach, heads turned as Olga strode confidently, determined to confront the betrayal.
But her mission was interrupted when a street vendor grabbed her wrist, demanding to know where she got the pendant—a unique piece made for a woman named Inga, who had vanished mysteriously a year earlier.
Through the tense conversation, Olga learned of Sergey, the vendor’s missing wife, and their son Sasha. Sergey hoped Inga might still be alive, lost or suffering amnesia.
As they walked to pick up his son from preschool, Olga felt an unexpected kinship and a flicker of hope amid the heartbreak.
With a little scowl, Sasha protested,
«Dad, you know I hate soup and cutlets.»
«We need to talk, son,» Sergey said, embracing him as they bid farewell to the teacher.
«Mom?» the boy hesitated, his gaze flickering between Olga and the necklace.
«No, son, this is Auntie Olga,» Sergey gently corrected, uncertain how to explain further.
«Where’s Mom?» the boy asked earnestly.
«I’m not sure, but I bet she’d be sad to hear you skipped your meal,» Olga diverted, trying to lift his spirits.
«I’d rather have pizza and compote. Those cutlets are awful,» he declared, then suddenly grasped Olga’s hand.
Her heart stirred at the warm, firm grip of his small hand, awakening a new maternal tenderness within her. Sasha chattered all the way about his day, his broken clay car, and tussles with a pesky classmate named Ira.
«Uncle, do you think Aunt Lena can make lasagna and lemonade?» he asked innocently.
«I’m sure she can. Want to learn how?» Lena replied.
«Absolutely!» the boy shouted with delight.
They arrived at a courtyard where a man knelt beside Max, explaining he needed to stay at grandma’s for now, and later his father would come to fetch him.
«What about Aunt Lena? She promised lasagna,» the boy asked, disappointment shading his voice.
«If she promised, then we’ll make it,» Lena said, catching the stern look from Viktor.
The man led the child inside and returned shortly.
«Should we head to the station?» he asked.
«Yes, let’s go,» Lena agreed promptly.
At the police station, cold looks greeted them. Lena learned Viktor often came to check on the search for his missing sister, irritating officers with no new leads. However, the mention of a mysterious bracelet sparked immediate interest, prompting a check at nearby motels for any clues about Lena’s brother-in-law.
Soon, Paul and his friend were brought into the detective’s room. The brother-in-law appeared bewildered, his confusion deepening upon seeing his wife.
«Explain how you came into possession of the bracelet linked to Elena Petrova’s disappearance,» the detective demanded.
Paul admitted he had bought the bracelet at a second-hand shop, pulling out a receipt from his wallet. The redhead, realizing the intended surprise, erupted:
«You thought to gift me second-hand jewelry? How do you see me?»
«Honey, relax, I’ll sort it out later,» Paul tried to soothe her.
At the familiar term of endearment, Lena felt disgust surge. She looked at her husband, puzzled how she had ever cared for him. No longer seeking vengeance, she mentally erased him from her life.
Leaving the detective’s office, she felt liberated, her mind racing with thoughts of relocating, finding a new apartment, and fresh starts. Yet all she could focus on was, «Lasagna and lemonade today; everything else can wait till tomorrow.»
A hand on her shoulder startled her. It was Viktor.
«Thanks for coming with me today. Maybe now we’ll find Elena. If the bracelet was pawned, it means someone might have harmed her. I need closure. I regret the flashy gift; it might have made her a target.»
Lena gazed into Viktor’s sorrow-filled eyes, realizing her troubles paled beside his pain. Though her husband had betrayed her, at least he was safe—and she bore him no ill will.
Paul and his companion exited the station.
«Looks like you’re moving on fast,» he sneered. «Comforting a new friend?»
«Paul, seek your happiness. Initiate the divorce yourself. I hold no grudges. And about the suitcase prank—well, you should’ve left your wife before starting anew.»
«What wife? You’re married?» the redhead gasped. «Were you the one who filled the suitcase with junk?»
«Exactly. I took out the garbage, literally and figuratively,» Lena said with a smirk.
Paul and his flustered partner bickered all the way back to their lodging, while Viktor, entertained, remarked:
«What about the garbage?»
Lena shared her plan for retribution.
«You’re remarkably resilient. Infidelity is unforgivable,» he noted.
«It’s painful, but I’ve realized grudges are futile. You can’t cling to someone who no longer loves you. I wish him well. We shared beautiful moments, for which I’m grateful. Anton and I just grew apart; our interests diverged. I bear no ill will,» Lena said, sadness tinting her voice.
«Lena, you deserve someone who truly values you. You’re stunning, and sometimes that intimidates men. But your warmth will bring happiness,» Ivan said gently, taking her hand.
«Are you leaving already? What about the lasagna? I promised Max,» Lena said, suddenly missing the boy.
«I thought you were being polite. You’re welcome to join us,» Ivan smiled.
They collected Max from his grandmother’s and headed home. Max eagerly planned the lasagna, promising to share a slice with his pesky neighbor Ira, who often snatched his toys.
«That’s the spirit, son,» Ivan said with a knowing wink.
The evening was cozy, though Ivan occasionally checked his phone, hoping for police updates.
After dinner, Ivan and Max helped Lena settle for the night. Max hugged her tightly, asking, «Aunt Lena, can we go out tomorrow?»
«Lena has to return home, son,» Ivan said quietly, disappointment hidden in his voice.
«I still have two days here. No rush. Tomorrow’s Saturday—let’s hit the beach. Maybe you can teach me to swim while you’re free,» Lena suggested.
«You don’t know how to swim?» Max asked, surprised. «I can swim already. I’ll teach you.»
«Let’s meet at your place at nine,» Ivan said with a smile.
Lena waved goodbye, feeling unexpectedly joyful. She was charmed by Ivan’s sincerity and Max’s innocence.
She lay awake half the night, thoughts swirling of Ivan, Max, Inga’s fate, and the daunting prospect of starting fresh. How wonderful it would be to stay here and leave all memories of Anton behind.
The next morning, in the hotel lobby, friends greeted her with a massive inflatable swan.
«What’s this?» Lena laughed, pointing.
«Max insisted on a float for swimming lessons. A swan seemed more fun,» Ivan chuckled.
As they prepared to leave, Ivan’s phone rang. His face went pale. «We need to visit the station,» he said gravely.
Lena and Max waited outside. When Ivan returned, somber, he silently took the swan and led them to the beach, clearly burdened by bad news. Lena distracted Max, choosing not to press Ivan.
After swimming, they ate at a beach cafe. Ivan joined later, managing a melancholy smile.
«Without this swan, I’d never have spotted you,» he said softly.
They headed back so Max could nap, accustomed to his routine.
Ivan asked Lena to help Max settle, then stepped out briefly. Max snuggled on the couch, and Lena played little games until he fell asleep. She memorized every detail of the fleeting moment.
Ivan returned, saw Max asleep, and whispered, «Join me for coffee?» His calm hid deeper tension.
Outside, he lit a cigarette, looked deeply at Lena, then discarded it abruptly.
«She’s alive.»
Sergey paused, then stepped inside the house, with a bewildered Olga trailing behind.
«Unbelievable. Where was she all this time? What happened?»
«She stayed with a wealthy count in the metropolis, then left adrift, selling her emerald brooch to move to the capital seeking fortune. She succeeded. Turns out, she mingled with tourists here and eventually left with one for a better life.»
Olga, struck by the revelations, was speechless. Sergey continued:
«The hardest part—I wept, thinking she was harmed or worse, that it was my fault. I couldn’t protect her. And to learn my mother-in-law knew and said nothing while I tortured myself… I confronted her today. She was silent. I feel sick, Ol.»
Sergey sat outside. Olga sensed his need for solitude and entered the kitchen to prepare dinner. Finding no bread, she went to the store. Returning, she met the landlord.
«I feared you might’ve left. Olga, can you stay with Sasha tonight? I have to drive a cab and can’t take him to his grandmother’s after today.»
«Of course, I’ll grab my things from the hotel,» she replied.
«Thanks. He’ll wake soon; we can get your things then,» Sergey said gratefully.
«Sergey, I must return tomorrow. My flight’s at three. I took leave only until Monday,» Olga said sadly, dreading the farewell.
«I understand. We’ll miss you,» Sergey said, retreating to lift his son’s spirits.
That evening, as Olga and Sasha ate toast, they browsed dog breeds online. She shared work stories; Sasha declared he’d become a vet too. They chatted late, Olga playfully mixing fairy tale characters, making Sasha giggle. Sergey called a few times to check on them.
The next day, Sergey came home early, finding Sasha asleep on Olga’s shoulder. He watched her with gratitude and reluctance to let her go.
Olga awoke to a draft, Sasha still asleep, fist tucked under his cheek. Outside, Sergey slept on the sofa. She marveled quietly at his strong features and the dimple in his chin—a sign her grandmother said meant a daughter would be their first child.
With eight hours till her plane, Olga prepared a farewell breakfast. Sasha, lured by pancakes’ scent, arrived first, followed by Sergey. The boy ate happily, pleading for pizza that evening.
«Son, Aunt Olga has to go,» Sergey said softly, eyes lingering on her.
Olga wished he’d ask her to stay. Sasha cried, clinging to her leg.
«Aunt Olga, don’t go yet—you haven’t even seen my bike.»
«Let’s make plans to visit, Sasha. I’ll come back soon,» Olga said, voice trembling, knowing it wasn’t true—her meager earnings couldn’t cover frequent trips.
«Maybe you could take more days off?» Sergey suggested quietly, avoiding her eyes.
Elated by the simple request, she stepped outside to call her boss.
The call stunned Olga—she’d been terminated retroactively the week before, with no chance of last month’s pay. Her boss apologized, citing a high-ranking official’s decision.
Realizing Anton and his mistress sought revenge, Olga felt devastated—jobless and without a place to live. She stood frozen, phone in hand, staring at the ground.
Sergey emerged, sensing the gravity.
«Olga, what’s wrong?»
«It’s nothing… I’ve been terminated without compensation. I was about to get an advance for rent, but now I’m lost,» she sighed, sitting beside him.
«You’re welcome to stay with us. Sasha would be happy,» Sergey offered before going inside.
«Sasha would be happy… And you seem indifferent,» Olga mused, jealousy stirring. Moments later, Sasha leapt into her lap, hugging her tightly. She returned the embrace, kissing his cheek.
Avoiding Sergey’s gaze, she knew it was too soon to define their bond. Yet it stung she felt love while he seemed to see her only as a friend. Then, a life-changing comment broke the silence:
«Should I climb on your lap too to get a kiss?»
«I think I’d rather come to you,» Olga laughed.
In the days that followed, Olga often awoke, fearing it was a dream. Yet the warmth of her husband’s embrace each morning reassured her of their reality.
Anton reached out repeatedly, pleading for her return. After discovering his daughter’s suitor was married, Anton’s father-in-law banned their communication. Though Lottie was willing to give up her inheritance for Anton, his calculating nature held him back. With a final wish for his well-being, Olga asked him not to contact her again.
Years later, Olga and Sasha unpacked school supplies from a fair, the excitement of his first-grade year palpable.
«Mom, look at this neat pencil case! Can I put my pencils and pens in it?» Sasha asked eagerly.
While sorting through the school supplies, Olga suddenly paled and rushed to the bathroom, overcome by nausea. Sergey and Sasha exchanged puzzled glances.
«Dad, why doesn’t Mom like school?» Sasha asked, confused.
«I’m not sure,» Sergey replied, worry creeping into his voice.
When Olga returned to the living room, she sank into a chair.
«Are you feeling ill? Should I call a doctor?» Sergey fretted.
«Is it the pencils?» Sasha wondered aloud. «Should I use markers instead?»
«No, honey, it’s not the pencils,» Olga said softly. «Soon, there will be four of us.»
With a joyful shout, Sergey scooped Olga into his arms and spun her around. Her mild protests were lost amid their laughter.
That’s how Sasha learned he was going to be a big brother. He still didn’t fully understand where babies came from or why Mom and Dad didn’t know if it would be a boy or a girl, but he was happy to figure that out later.
In April, Olga gazed out the hospital window, cradling her newborn daughter. Below, her beloved boys walked up the path—Sasha proudly carrying a bouquet. He now understood that his sister had been in Mom’s belly, though he was still curious about the details. Watching his classmate Ira, he wondered, «If Ira likes me, does that mean she’ll have a baby too?»
