Valya married Artyom when she was only twenty-two. At that time, she believed he was her destiny and that their life together would be full of love and care. She was a gentle young woman, full of hope, and ready to build a family.
From the beginning, her mother-in-law never truly accepted her. Every glance was filled with disapproval, as if to say Valya was not worthy of her son. Determined to prove herself, Valentina cooked, cleaned, and did her best to adjust to their home.
Artyom remained silent, rarely expressing his feelings. He had grown up under the control of his mother, who ruled the house with her word as law. Even as Valya’s body began to weaken, she hid her pain, blaming it on fatigue, not wanting to be a burden.
The diagnosis came suddenly. The doctors shook their heads, leaving no hope. That night, Valya buried her face in her pillow and cried silently, not wanting Artyom to see her pain.
One evening, her mother-in-law approached Artyom and spoke in a quiet but firm tone.
“You are young. You still have a future. But with this one, she will only weigh you down. Take her to Aunt Dunya in the village. No one will judge you there. You can rest and then begin a new life.”
Artyom said nothing.
Valya was silent the entire journey.
At the small house, he said simply, “It will be quiet here. You will feel better.”
She looked at him with tired eyes. “Will you come back?”
He gave a short nod but did not answer. Then he left her behind.
But death did not come.
Three months passed. Then six. One day, a young paramedic arrived in the village. He was kind, attentive, and began visiting Valya often. He gave her IVs, adjusted her medicines, and offered care without expecting anything in return. She had not asked for help, but his presence made her want to live again.
Little by little, she grew stronger. First, she managed to sit up. Then she stood and stepped outside onto the porch. Later, she even walked to the small store. The villagers were astonished.
“Valyusha, are you coming back to life?” they asked.
“I don’t know,” she replied softly. “I just want to live.”
A full year passed. One day, a car stopped at the house. Artyom stepped out.
Valentina sat on the porch with a blanket over her shoulders, holding a cup of tea. Her cheeks were rosy, her eyes bright. She looked alive and strong. Artyom froze in shock.
“Are you… alive?” he stammered.
She looked at him calmly.
“Did you expect something else?”
“I thought you…” He began.
“Dead?” she finished. “That is what you wanted, right?”
He said nothing.
“I truly wanted to give up in that house,” Valya continued. “The roof leaked, my hands froze from the cold, and I was alone. I wanted to die. But someone came every evening. He faced snowstorms, asked for nothing, and still showed up. And you left me. Not because you could not stay, but because you did not want to.”
“Mom…” he whispered weakly.
“Your mother cannot save you, Artyom,” Valya said with calm strength. “Not before God and not before yourself. Take your papers and leave. You will not get an inheritance. I gave the house to the man who saved my life.”
Aunt Dunya stood nearby and added, “Go, son, and do not return.”
Artyom left without another word. Valya did not cry.
But fate had other plans.
A week later, a man in a black jacket arrived. He carried a worn briefcase and asked if Valentina Mezentseva lived there.
“I do,” she answered cautiously.
The notary handed her a folder. “Your father has passed away. According to his will, you are the sole heir to an apartment in the city and a large bank account.”
Valya froze. A sharp pain struck her heart. “I don’t have a father,” she thought.
The notary explained further. “He arranged a memorial service. He told people you died in great suffering. Then he sold your apartment, saying he could not live there anymore.”
Two days later, Valya traveled to the city. Everything was confirmed. She now owned the apartment, the money, and the documents. She stepped into a new life, no longer the abandoned woman but someone who could choose her path.
But her story was far from over.
One afternoon at the market, Valya suddenly saw Artyom. He was walking with a pregnant woman. Their eyes met. He froze.
“Valya…” he whispered.
“You didn’t expect this?” she asked calmly. “Did you think I would remain dead to the world?”
The woman by his side looked confused. “Who is she?”
“An old friend,” he said quickly.
Valya smiled faintly. “Yes, very old. The kind you buried long ago.”
He tried to ask, “Is everything okay?”
“Now yes,” Valya replied. “I got my name back.”
Life continued. The paramedic, Ilya, kept visiting her. He brought food, cooked meals, helped around the house, and stayed quietly when she needed company.
One snowy evening, Valya looked at him and said, “For the first time, I feel alive. Strange, isn’t it?”
Ilya smiled. “Sometimes, to start breathing, you first have to suffocate.”
For the first time in years, she leaned against someone’s shoulder.
A month later, Valya felt unwell. At first, she thought it was just a cold, then exhaustion. The doctor’s words surprised her.
“Congratulations, Valentina. You are pregnant.”
She froze.
The ultrasound showed one healthy baby. Ilya held her close and said, “We can do this. Together.”
Then, one day, Valya read in the newspaper: “Man arrested for fraud. Accused of faking his ex wife’s death and selling her property.”
The name was Artyom Mezentsev.
Her heart stopped for a moment.
Two years passed. Life grew steady. Her daughter, Lizochka, was cheerful with bright eyes and dimples. Their home was warm and full of peace.
But one morning, a yellow envelope arrived. Inside were chilling words:
“Are you sure he loves you? That Lisa is his daughter? Check. Do not be surprised when you learn the truth. Is Ilya too perfect? Everyone hides something.”
Soon after, a hidden number called her.
“Valentina? Don’t trust him. Ilya is not who he says he is. Look into his past.” Then the line cut off.
Fear grew inside her. One night, she went through his office. She found her medical files, bank statements, and even a copy of her father’s will. He had known everything.
When Ilya entered, she turned to him with a trembling voice. “Who are you?”
“The one who saved you when everyone left,” he said calmly. “But you already know it wasn’t by accident.”
She asked, “Did you know about me from the beginning?”
“Yes. I was given a task. But I stayed for you. I changed my life because of you.”
“Who gave you this task?” she demanded.
“People who wanted your apartment, your money, and even you. But they never expected me to choose you over everything else.”
Soon after, another message arrived. “May 23, 19:00. Park on Yuzhnaya. If you don’t come, your daughter will not live to see school.”
Valya went. There she met her father’s former partner.
He told her, “Your father left you more than you realize. Documents, contacts, certificates. While you have them, you are in danger.”
“What if I give them up?” she asked.
“You will soon find out,” he replied coldly.
Valya understood. Her father wanted to make peace before his death by leaving her everything. But instead of protection, it became a curse.
Three days later, she decided to publish everything in the newspaper.
As she stood by the window, she watched her daughter draw a sun on a sheet of paper. “This is for you, Mommy,” Lisa whispered. “You are my sunshine.”
A week later, Ilya returned.
“I won’t excuse myself,” he said quietly. “Yes, I was part of the game. But you became my life. If you let me, I will stay forever.”
Valya looked into his eyes for a long time. Finally, she nodded.
“One condition,” she said.
“What is it?”
“No lies. Even if the truth is the most terrible thing.”
He held her silently. Six months later, the case was closed.
Valya wrote in her journal:
“They tried to kill me not with bullets but with loneliness, lies, and cold. But I survived. In my darkest hour, someone reached out to me. If you are suffering now, remember: darkness is never forever. The sun always returns. You just have to wait for it.”
