The wedding cortege rushed through the city, honking loudly, while the bride beamed with happiness. Svitlana couldn’t believe it: she was about to become the wife of her beloved Oleksii. No matter what people said, no matter how much his parents opposed it—their love would endure everything.
But in an instant, everything turned into a nightmare. The car abruptly changed course and sped out of the city. “What’s happening? We’re supposed to be going to the registry office!” Svitlana panicked. The driver smiled mysteriously: “A surprise…”
An hour later, she stood in the middle of a swamp in front of an abandoned hut. Her wedding had not taken place. The driver tossed her a jacket and disappeared, and her phone buzzed with a message: “Have you already dropped the toad off at the swamp? Where she belongs?” It was from her mother-in-law. And her beloved? He knew everything. He had stayed silent. He had agreed.
Svitlana was alone. She cried, shivering from cold and hatred. In her belly, new life stirred—a surprise she had wanted to share with Oleksii on their wedding day. But now, she was alone. She had to survive.
Time passed. She fought. She worked until she had no strength left, gave birth, and raised her son on her own. Fate forced her to trust people again when she became a wet nurse for two orphans whose mother had died during childbirth. She was taken into a grand home, but she had no idea that soon this home would become her own.
Because years later, when she met Oleksii again, he would stand before her broken—without money, without his mother, without pride. And she? She was strong, successful, happy.
But when her true man came—not the one who had abandoned her, but the one who saw her worth—he took her hand and said, “I can’t imagine my life without you.” And this time, it wasn’t a lie.
They drove to her parents. The ones she had left behind long ago. And when her strict father silently stood up, looked at her, and pulled her into a tight embrace, she understood: she was finally home.
Now, her story was one of victory. Now, she was not a victim. She was the heroine of her own life.
