During lunch at a cozy restaurant in the city center, a man in his fifties—a colleague of Roman’s, the director of a neighboring theater—joined them.
— Mikhail Zemlyakov, — he introduced himself. — An old friend of your father’s. It’s a great pleasure to meet you, Anna.
— Misha is one of the best directors in the capital, — Roman said. — He has an excellent eye for talented people.
Mikhail Zemlyakov looked at Anna attentively:
— Do you know that you have a very interesting look for the theater? Expressive eyes, regular features, good diction. If you decide to apply to a theater school, let me know, I can help you prepare.
— Thank you, — Anna replied shyly. — But I haven’t decided yet.
— I’ll be waiting for your decision, — Zemlyakov said. — But if your heart is drawn to the theater, don’t miss the opportunity. Talent is a gift that needs to be developed.
After lunch, they returned home, and Roman showed his daughter his study. It was a large room with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, an antique desk, and a grand piano in the corner.
— This is where I work on my plays, — he explained. — I read plays, it helps me think.
— Dad, — Anna called him by that word for the first time in days. — Tell me in detail what happened back then. I want to know the whole truth.
Roman was silent for a long time. Then he sat down in an armchair opposite his daughter and began to speak.
— I was young, foolish, and overconfident. Success in the theater went to my head. I decided I could afford anything. A new actress, Svetlana Kritskaya, appeared in the theater. Beautiful, talented, ambitious. She showed interest in me, flirted, dropped hints.
— And you gave in?
— To my shame, yes. I thought it would just be a fling, nothing serious. But it dragged on for several months. And then Angelina found out.
— How?
— She caught us at the theater after a premiere. She came to congratulate me on my success, brought my favorite cake. And Svetlana and I… — Roman couldn’t finish the sentence.
— And what happened next?
— At first, she didn’t say a word. Just turned and left. At home, she made a scene: she cried, shouted, demanded an explanation. I swore that it meant nothing, that it would never happen again.
— Did mom believe you?
— She wanted to believe. We tried to fix our relationship. But I turned out to be a weak-willed person—six months later, it all happened again.
— With the same woman?
— Yes. And then Angelina realized that nothing would change. She was a woman of principle. For her, betrayal was unforgivable.
Anna was silent, thinking over what she had heard.
— Did you love her? — she finally asked.
— I loved her. Very much. And I continue to love her to this day, — Roman answered honestly. — It’s terrible. I didn’t understand then what I was losing. I thought that family was a given, that you could play with fire and not get burned. The realization came later, when it was already too late.
— And what happened to that actress?
— Svetlana? She quickly found herself a new patron-producer from another theater. It turned out that I was just a stepping stone in her career. A year later, she moved to America and never came back.
— And you realized you lost your family over nothing?
— Exactly. Because of my selfishness, because of a moment of weakness, because of the desire to feel irresistible. A foolishness for which I have been paying for 18 years.
She got up and went to the window. Below, the city center was bustling, passersby hurried about their business, and street musicians played melodies.
— But you’ve changed, — she said, without turning around. — I can feel it.
— Yes, I’ve changed. I understood what true love means, what a family means. But it was already too late. Your mother was adamant.
— Did you try to find her?
— All the time. At first, I traveled to cities myself, asked acquaintances, placed ads in newspapers. Then I hired private detectives. One of them recently found your trail, but when he reported to me, I…
— Didn’t want to meet directly?
— I decided I had to act through Andrei.
— Why?
— Because I realized: you can’t just barge into someone’s life like a barbarian. You had to decide for yourself if you wanted to see me.
In the evening, when it was time to get ready for the train, Roman gave his daughter a gift—a beautiful mahogany box.
— This belonged to your grandmother, my mother, — he said. — She asked me to give it to her granddaughter when she grew up.
Inside the box was an antique brooch with precious stones and a note: “To my dear granddaughter Anna from grandmother Elizaveta. Be happy, my dear.”
— She died five years ago, — Roman said quietly. — Until her last days, she hoped to see you.
— I had a grandmother, — she whispered, examining the brooch. — And I never met her.
— She loved you very much. Your childhood photograph still hangs in her room.
At the station, they couldn’t part for a long time. Roman kept talking and talking, as if afraid this would be their last meeting.
— Promise you’ll call. Promise you’ll come again. I’m willing to visit you every weekend if you don’t mind.
— I promise, — Anna said and suddenly realized she genuinely wanted to.
— And I’ll think about applying to university in the capital.
— Really? — Roman’s face lit up. — That would be wonderful. We could make up for lost time.
On the train, Anna couldn’t calm down for a long time. Two days in the capital had turned her whole life upside down. She saw a different world, a world of theater, art, great opportunities. And she realized that provincial life no longer suited her. But most importantly, she had found her father. A man who sincerely loved her, who was ready to give her everything he could. And her mother was right to guide her to him.
“Mom’s last lesson,” Anna thought, looking out the window at the flashing lights. “A lesson of forgiveness and love.”
Back home in her apartment, everything seemed small and cramped after the capital’s grand scale. Anna told Aunt Valya about her father, the theater, and the prospects opening up for her in the capital.
— So, you’ve decided to move? — her neighbor asked, listening attentively to the story.
— I don’t know yet, — Anna answered honestly. — On one hand, I really want to. On the other, it’s scary to leave everything familiar, to go so far away.
— And what does your heart say?…
