08/18/2025
Following his mother's advice, the husband took his wife, exhausted by illness, to a remote wilderness... And a year later he returned - for her property.
When Valentina married Artyom, she was only twenty-two. Young, bright, with big eyes and a dream of a home that smelled of fresh pies, children's laughter and comfort. She believed: this was her destiny. He was older, more reserved, taciturn - but in his silence she felt support. So it seemed to her then.
From the first days, her mother-in-law greeted her with caution. Her look said it all: "You are not a match for my son." Valya tried her best - she cleaned, cooked, adjusted. But still not for real. Either the borscht was too thin, or the laundry was hung incorrectly, or she looked at her husband with love too often. It irritated.
Artyom was silent. He grew up in a family where his mother's word was law. He did not argue with her, and Valya tolerated it. Even when she began to feel weak, when her appetite disappeared, and simply getting out of bed was difficult, she attributed it all to fatigue.
The diagnosis came suddenly. Late stage. Inoperable. The doctors shook their heads. That night, Valya cried into her pillow, hiding the pain from her husband. In the morning, she smiled again, ironed shirts, cooked soup, listened to her mother-in-law's nagging. And Artyom became more and more alien. His gaze no longer sought her eyes, his voice sounded cold.
One day, his mother-in-law came to him and quietly said:
- You are young, you have a long life ahead of you. And with this one... she is just a burden. Why do you need her? Take her to the village, to Aunt Dunya. It is quiet there, no one will judge you there. You will rest. And then you'll start a new life.
He didn't answer. But the very next day he silently packed her things, helped her into the car and drove her deep into the country - to where the roads ended and time passed slowly.
Valya was silent the whole way. No questions, no tears. She knew the truth: it wasn't the illness that killed her, but betrayal. The end of their family, their love, her hopes - everything collapsed the moment he started the engine.
"It will be quiet here," he said, unloading the suitcase. "You'll feel better."
"Will you come back?" she whispered.
He didn't answer. He just nodded briefly and drove away.
Local women brought food, Aunt Dunya looked in sometimes - to check if she was alive. Valya lay there for weeks. Then months. She looked at the ceiling, listened to the raindrops on the roof, saw through the window how the trees swayed in the wind.
But death was in no hurry.
Three months passed. Six. And one day a paramedic came to the village. Young, with a kind look. He started visiting her, giving her IVs, messing around with medicine. Valya didn’t ask for help — she just didn’t want to die anymore.
And a miracle happened. First, a little — she got out of bed. Then she went out onto the porch. Then she walked to the store. People were surprised:
— Are you coming back to life, Valyusha?
— I don’t know, — she answered. — I just want to live.
A year passed. One day a car arrived in the village. Artyom got out of it. Gray, tense, with papers in his hands. He first talked to the neighbors, and then approached the house.
Valentina was sitting on the porch, in a blanket, with a cup of tea. Rosy, alive, with clear eyes. He was dumbfounded.
— You… are you alive?
She looked at him calmly.
— And you were counting on something else?
— I thought you…
— Died? — she finished. — Yes, almost. But that’s what you wanted, right?
He was silent. Silence spoke louder than words.
— I really wanted to leave. In that house where the roof was leaking, where my hands were freezing from the cold, where no one was around — I wanted to die. But someone came every evening. Someone wasn’t afraid of the snowstorm, didn’t expect gratitude. He was just doing his job. And you left me. Not because you couldn’t be there — but because you didn’t want to.
— I’m confused, — he whispered. — Mom…
