— Excellent, sweetheart. I was at the theater today, saw a new play. I really enjoyed it.
— Mom, have you thought about it? You know, maybe meeting someone? Not necessarily a relationship right away, but at least for company?
— Katya, I’m happy as I am. I’m 50 years old, and I’m finally living for myself. I don’t need a man to feel complete. If someone does come along, it will be a pleasant addition, not the meaning of my life.
— You’re amazing, Mom. I’m so proud of you.
Anna hung up the phone and smiled. She was truly proud of herself. Proud that she hadn’t broken, hadn’t given up, hadn’t become a victim. She fought, stood up for her rights, and started a new life. Sometimes she thought about Igor. She wondered how he was living. Did he regret what he did? Probably not. People like that rarely feel regret. They always find excuses for their actions, blame circumstances, other people, but never themselves. But that was no longer her problem. He was in the past. And she had the present and the future.
One day, as Anna was walking home from work, she passed a bridal salon. Mannequins in white dresses stood in the window. She stopped and looked at them. She remembered her own wedding, 22 years ago. Back then, she believed she was getting married forever. That “in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer” were not empty words. But life turned out to be more complicated. People change. Or they don’t change, they just show their true colors when circumstances force them to.
Anna turned away from the window and walked on. She no longer believed in eternal love and vows till death do us part. But she believed in herself. In her strength, in her right to happiness, in her ability to overcome any difficulties. And that was enough.
At home, Ryzhik greeted her, rubbing against her legs and demanding dinner. Anna fed him, put the kettle on for herself, and sat by the window with a book. Outside, the city lights were coming on as evening began. Her new life was just beginning. And she was ready for it.
A year after the divorce, Anna received a letter from Igor. He wrote that he was sorry, that he wanted to meet, to talk. That he understood how badly he had messed up. That he had lost the most precious thing. Anna read the letter and tore it up. Not out of anger. Simply because she no longer needed those words. It was too late. Too much pain. Too many lies. She was no longer angry with him. She had simply let him go. The way you let go of a past that no longer has power over you.
And one weekend, while Anna was walking in the park, a man in his mid-fifties, intellectual, wearing glasses, approached her.
— Excuse me, are you by any chance Anna Petrovna? I’m Mikhail, we work in neighboring buildings, I often see you during the lunch break, at the cafe across the street. You’re always reading some book, aren’t you?
Anna smiled.
— Yes, that’s me. It’s a pleasure to meet you.
— Perhaps we could have coffee together sometime? I also love to read, it would be interesting to discuss books.
Anna looked at him. A pleasant face, kind eyes, no pressure — just a simple human desire to connect. Why not?
— Let’s do it tomorrow at lunch.
They started talking. It turned out they had a lot in common: a love for classic literature, theater, and travel. Mikhail was divorced, had no children, and worked as a history professor at the university. Anna didn’t rush things. She didn’t hurry into a new relationship. But pleasant company, friendship, mutual understanding — she needed all of that. And if something more grew out of it over time — great. And if not — that was great too.
The main thing was that she was happy. Truly happy for the first time in many years. Not because someone was by her side. But because she was free. Because she respected herself. Because she had gone through trials and emerged stronger.
That evening, lying in bed, Anna remembered the cleaning lady from the airport. Valentina Ivanovna, who didn’t just walk by, who extended a helping hand to a complete stranger. Simply because it was the right thing to do. Sometimes, one person can change another’s life. One small action, one moment of attention and care — and someone’s fate turns in a different direction.
Anna was grateful for that. Grateful to Valentina Ivanovna, to Olga, to her children, to everyone who supported her in her difficult time. But most of all, she was grateful to herself. For not breaking. For fighting. For believing in herself and not letting herself be deceived.
And Igor? Igor was left in the past. Where he belonged. And let him stay there. Along with his lies, his betrayal, his excuses. Anna had a different life now. An honest one. A bright one. A free one. And she cherished every day of this new life. Because it was her life. Hers alone. And no one could ever take it away from her again.
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