At one point, Alina and her mother-in-law were alone in the kitchen. Lyudmila Sergeyevna poured tea, dropping sugar past the bowl. Alina handed her a napkin. They both laughed. «I didn’t mean to offend you then,» Lyudmila Sergeyevna said quietly. «I wanted to protect my son from potential pain. I often confuse protection with control.»
«I’m not perfect either,» Alina said. «I make mistakes too, but Andrei and I manage to talk. That’s better than anything else.»
Lyudmila Sergeyevna nodded, and in slow, slightly clumsy Italian said, «I’m still learning, but I want to speak your language too.» Alina smiled. It was better than any apology. They drank tea, opened a box of cookies, and called the men. The evening was simple and warm.
The year flew by. Lyudmila Sergeyevna wrote more often, asking not about plans but about food, weather, books. Once, she sent a photo of a new recipe she found online. Alina sent a video of her sauce simmering. They laughed like students in a cooking class. Andrei’s father called regularly, saying simple, needed things, asking if they remembered to rest, and sending photos of blooming chestnuts in the park.
In spring, Andrei got an intense project. For two months, he worked at his limit, worrying he wasn’t giving Alina enough time. She stayed late on calls, fearing he felt sidelined, but they talked openly. One evening a week was theirs—no work, no guests, just them, dinner, a movie, a walk. It wasn’t a rule, more a habit, and the habit saved them.
One evening, they came home late. The kitchen smelled of basil. A thick envelope from the company lay on the table. Alina opened it: an offer to lead a small department in six months, a three-year contract, higher salary, a team of four, and quarterly trips to Russia.
Andrei felt a wave of mixed emotions: joy for Alina, slight fear for himself. She sensed his tension and approached. «I haven’t accepted or declined,» she said. «Let’s talk. I don’t want my promotion to hurt you. Work matters, but so does family. I won’t move forward if you’re left in the shadows, suffering.»
Andrei sat, thinking, looking at her hands, the bunch of greens in a vase, the yellow lamplight. «I want you to accept,» he said. «I’ll find a way to grow beside you. It’s easier when we decide honestly. I don’t want to hold you back.»
«I want to take even half your step,» she smiled.
The next day, they went to the office together. Alina signed the papers. Andrei bought pastries. They celebrated alone and called their parents via video. Lyudmila Sergeyevna smiled genuinely, said she was proud, then added she’d study Italian harder.
In autumn, Alina showed Andrei a test with two lines. He sat on the bed’s edge, grabbed at the air, unsure where to put it, then laughed and cried. So did she. They sat on the floor, holding hands, afraid to speak. Words scare miracles.
They decided to tell their parents later, after a doctor’s visit, moving quietly through the days. That evening, they video-called their parents. Andrei’s father understood first and smiled. Lyudmila Sergeyevna looked at the screen, covered her mouth, and teared up.
She spoke softly. «Come for New Year’s. I’ll knit you socks, and I promise not to argue. I just want to hold your hand.»
Alina felt an old weight lift from her chest. Not gone, but gently removed, making it easier to breathe.
Обсуждение закрыто.