— No. To prove it.
— And you need to decide who is more important to you — your mother or your family. Your real family. Me and the baby.
She left the kitchen and went into the bedroom. She closed the mangled door. As much as possible — it was hanging on one hinge and didn’t close properly. Olga sat on the bed and took the box of money in her hands. She opened it and counted. Everything was there. 65,000. Her protection. The baby’s future. She put the box next to her and lay on her side. Tired. Mortally tired of the fighting, the mistrust, the constant tension.
Footsteps were heard in the hallway. Then the sound of the front door opening. Kirill was gone. Olga closed her eyes and, for the first time that night, cried. Quietly, without sobs. Just tears streaming down her cheeks, wet and salty.
Kirill returned in the evening. He rang the doorbell. He didn’t use his keys. Olga opened it. He stood on the threshold with a large bag from a hardware store.
— I’ll fix the door, — he said. — Right now. I bought new hinges. Got my tools. It’ll be as good as new in an hour.
Olga silently stepped aside and let him in. Kirill went into the bedroom. He started working. He took the door off its hinges. Unscrewed the broken ones. Screwed on the new ones. He worked with concentration. Silently. Olga stood in the hallway, watching.
An hour and a half later, the door was as good as new. Kirill opened and closed it several times, checking. He nodded in satisfaction.
— Done. It’s solid.
— Thank you.
He gathered his tools and took out the trash. He came back and washed his hands. He stood in the hallway, not knowing what to do next.
— I called Mom, — he said. — I told her everything you said to.
— And?
— She cried, screamed that I was a traitor. That I chose some strange woman over my own mother. I hung up. Then she called again. Sent a message. I blocked her number.
Olga raised her eyebrows. She didn’t expect that.
— You blocked her?
— Yes, temporarily. Until she calms down. Until she understands she was wrong.
— She won’t understand. She sees herself as a victim.
— Maybe. But that’s… that’s her problem. Not ours.
Olga went to the kitchen and sat at the table. Kirill followed her. Sat down opposite her.
— Olya, I understand that words and a fixed door can’t atone for what I’ve done. But I will try every day to prove that I am worthy of trust. That I can be a normal husband, a normal father.
Olga looked at him for a long time, studying him. He seemed sincere. But how many times had she seen this sincerity, only for everything to repeat itself?
— Okay, — she said finally. — Let’s try. But on my terms.
— What are they?
— First. Your mother does not enter this apartment without my permission. Ever. Even if you invite her, I have to approve.
— Agreed.
— Second. We make all financial decisions together. If your mother asks for money, we discuss it together. And only I decide whether to give it or not.
— Agreed.
— Third. You never take her side against me again. Ever. Even if she cries, threatens, manipulates, you are on my side. Always.
Kirill nodded, looking her straight in the eye.
— Always. I promise.
— And last. If you ever break any of these conditions, I leave with the child and I’m not coming back.
Kirill’s face became serious. He reached a hand across the table and covered her palm with his.
— Understood. I won’t break them. Never again.
Olga didn’t pull her hand away, but she didn’t squeeze his fingers in return either. She just let it lie there.
— We’ll see.
In the evening, they had dinner together, in silence, but without tension. Just tired, like two people after a long battle. Kirill washed the dishes, Olga wiped the table. Then she went to the bedroom, he — to the living room, to the sofa.
The next morning, Olga received a message on her phone from an unknown number:
“Olenka, it’s me, Kirill’s mom. Please don’t be angry. I understood everything, I realized. Forgive me, you foolish woman. I really wanted what was best. Can I come over, let’s talk?”
Olga deleted the message without replying. An hour later, another one came from a different number:
“Olenka, don’t be silent. I’m a grandmother. I have the right to see my grandchild when he’s born.”
She deleted that one too.
Around noon, a call came from a landline number. Olga answered.
— Hello?
— Olenka, my dear, it’s me. Listen, let’s meet. I want to apologize properly. Like a human being.
— No need.
— What do you mean, no need? I’m guilty, I understand. I want to make amends. Let me give you some money for the baby, however much you need.
— You don’t have money. You live on a pension of 18,000.
— Well, I can borrow some. Or Kirillushka will give it to me.
— Lyudmila Fyodorovna, — Olga spoke calmly, without emotion. — You stole money from me. You robbed your own grandchild. I have nothing to talk to you about.
— But I gave it back!
— Because you had no choice. If you did, you wouldn’t have.
— Olenka, why are you so cruel? I didn’t mean any harm.
— Goodbye.
Olga hung up. She blocked the number. Lyudmila Fyodorovna didn’t call again that day.
Two days passed. Kirill went to work and came back in the evenings. He helped around the house. Cooked dinner. Didn’t press her for conversation. Olga watched him cautiously, studying him. He was trying. It was obvious. Trying to be attentive, caring. He asked how she was feeling. If she needed anything. He never mentioned his mother.
On the third evening, he sat next to her on the sofa. He held out his phone.
— Look.
The bank app was open on the screen. A new account, in Olga’s name. There was 50,000 in the account.
— What’s this?
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