Rumors in the private sector spread faster than any internet, crawling over fences along with morning greetings and evening chats at the gate. Some came with sympathetic looks, asking cautiously what had happened. Others just watched over the fence with poorly concealed curiosity, discussing it among themselves later. Varvara Rodionovna answered everyone the same way, with directness: “My daughter acted like a human being, she saved a child who had minutes to live, and the rest is none of your business, go on your way.” Taisiya’s phone was ringing off the hook. Unknown numbers, Regina Valeryevna’s number, Stanislav’s number, numbers of some distant relatives of the Boyko family whom she didn’t even remember by name.
She rejected one after another, until finally, Arkady’s name appeared on the screen. She hesitated for a second, looking at the glowing letters, and then answered. “Tasya,” his voice was hoarse, rushed, with a note of desperation she had never heard from him before. “Please, listen to me, my mother threw a fit, the ceremony was just to calm her down, it doesn’t mean anything. The application at the registry office can be withdrawn at any time, I don’t want to lose you.” “If it doesn’t mean anything,” she interrupted, surprised at the calmness of her own voice. “Why did you put a ring on another woman’s finger in front of a hundred guests?”
“I was forced. Mother said she wouldn’t survive the shame in front of the relatives, she clutched her heart.” “Where were you while I was operating on a child for 4 hours, Arkady?” He fell silent for a second, and in that pause, Taisiya heard everything she needed to know: he was at home. Nervous, not knowing what to do. His mother was screaming, Inna arrived. “You should have come to the hospital and waited outside the operating room. Just to be there, just to show that you cared. But you chose to stay home and put a ring on another woman. I don’t blame your mother, Arkady. I blame you.”
“Tasya, give me a second chance. I’ll change, I promise.” “The chance ended when you chose the easy way out.” She hung up and felt a strange sense of relief. Not joy, not triumph. Just an emptiness where it used to hurt, where hope and love for a man who turned out to be nothing like she thought he was used to live. One evening, as the sun was setting behind the roofs of the neighboring houses and the air smelled of lilac from the front garden, Gordey Alexandrovich came without his driver, in a regular SUV, without any frills, in a simple shirt with rolled-up sleeves, carrying a bag of groceries from the supermarket: meat, vegetables, fruits, he even remembered a box of good tea.
Varvara Rodionovna looked at him with the appraising gaze of an experienced woman who had seen it all in her life and who couldn’t be fooled by expensive gifts. “I wanted to get to know you properly,” he explained, placing the bag on the kitchen table. “To see if any help is needed around the house. The fence is crooked, I can send people to fix it.” “And what are your intentions?” Varvara Rodionovna asked directly, without beating around the bush, looking him straight in the eye. “Don’t try to sweet-talk me. I’m a simple woman, I like it when everything is honest.” “I’m not trying to buy you off with money,” he replied just as directly, not looking away.
“I just think that in a difficult moment, someone from the outside can help. Without pressure, without conditions. Your daughter saved my son’s life, and I found her being driven away from her own wedding. That’s not right.” Varvara Rodionovna fell silent, studying his hands. Large, calloused, clearly from physical labor. Not some soft-handed person, even if he had money. “You’re not showing off, not being flashy,” she said finally, softening a little. “As long as you live like a decent human being and love your child, alright. We’ll see what kind of person you are.” Later, when her mother went to the kitchen to make dinner and started clattering with pots and pans, Gordey Alexandrovich told Taisiya quietly, so Varvara Rodionovna wouldn’t hear.
“I’m ready to wait as a friend, for as long as it takes. If you don’t want to see me, I won’t come again.” “Just say the word, don’t just disappear,” she replied after a pause, looking out the window at the evening sky. “I just need time. A lot of time.” At the door, as he was leaving, Varvara Rodionovna stopped her daughter in the kitchen and said quietly, so the guest wouldn’t hear: “Don’t rush, don’t lose your head. Money doesn’t make the man. Take a good look first, or you’ll get burned again.” A week later, Taisiya returned to work at the regional hospital, put on her white coat, walked through the familiar corridors, breathed in the hospital air, and felt like she was in her place.
But on the very first day, the head of the department, Maxim Yuryevich, called her into his office with the kind of face that usually delivers unpleasant news that one would rather not hear. “A complaint has been filed,” he said, not looking up from the papers on his desk, shuffling through them with obvious displeasure. “The Boyko family. They claim that you abandoned your post on your wedding day, causing moral damage to the hospital and using your official position to establish connections with wealthy patients. Nonsense, of course, but it’s official.” Taisiya froze, feeling a wave of indignation rise within her. The accusation of abusing her position hit the hardest…
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