PROTECTED BY LOVE
Kira and Gleb’s meeting was written in the stars.
Gleb had never seen his father. He was raised by his mum and nan. When little Gleb asked about his dad, his mum would mumble something vague—like his dad was a geologist, always off exploring for precious minerals. Once, though, in a moment of frustration, she snapped, “Gleb, love, you never had a father to begin with!”
As a kid, Gleb took those excuses at face value. He trusted his mum completely. But as he grew older, he decided to get to the bottom of it. After all, he couldn’t have just appeared out of thin air! Turns out, his mum had gone on a work trip once when she was younger and came back pregnant. His nan told him that—in secret.
Gleb was oddly relieved. At least he wasn’t found under a cabbage! He vowed to track down his dad someday, whether the man liked it or not. “I’m his son, not some stranger!” He also made another promise to himself: “I’ll have a proper family. A wife, loads of kids—one wife, though, and lots of little ones.”
Kira hadn’t known her father’s love either. Her mum split from him when Kira was barely two. A stepdad took his place—a decent bloke, but still… He never missed a chance to hold up his own kids from his first marriage as examples. It grated on her. So, Kira learned to settle for her mum’s love alone.
When she grew up, Kira decided, “If I ever marry, it’ll be once—and for keeps. Just gotta find the right bloke.”
And she did.
It was Christmas Eve. January, freezing, evening. A bookshop. Gleb and Kira stood in the queue at the till, each holding a copy of Shakespeare. Their eyes met by chance. And Gleb went for it—showering her in compliments, asking polite, thoughtful questions. He couldn’t just let her walk away. She had to be his wife. It had to be her.
Kira didn’t even play hard to get. She felt at ease with this lively young man, like she’d known him forever. Still, she came from a proper family—no respectable girl just picks up strangers in bookshops. Gleb admired her modesty and suggested swapping numbers. Kira took his but didn’t give hers. “I’ll ring you after the holidays,” she said vaguely.
Gleb wasn’t about to let this heaven-sent gift slip away. They said goodbye, but he secretly followed her, memorising where she lived.
All through the holidays, Gleb floated on air. He’d found his “swan,” and he’d love her forever.
But when the holidays ended, no call came. Gleb panicked and took matters into his own hands. He slipped the copy of Shakespeare he’d bought that night into Kira’s letterbox. Surely, she’d figure it out?
She called him that same evening, annoyed.
“Gleb! Why didn’t you ring me? I was waiting!”
“Kira, sweetheart, I didn’t have your number! I’d have called ages ago—you didn’t give it to me in the shop, remember?” Gleb was beaming.
“Well, you found me somehow!” Kira shot back.
“Typical woman logic,” Gleb thought, grinning. He was over the moon—she *did* care!
They didn’t wait. Gleb and Kira got married—quickly. How could they not? They had too much in common. First, a love so pure it felt divine; second, a shared dream of as many kids as God would give them; third, an obsession with Shakespeare. Wasn’t that enough?
With that solid foundation, they built their life.
Kira taught English literature at uni; Gleb was a brilliant software engineer.
Right on schedule, little Emily arrived. Two years later, Charlie joined the world. Everything was perfect.
Gleb still wanted to find his dad. The internet helped. After wading through dozens of namesakes, he found him. They exchanged letters. His dad lived in London and invited Gleb to visit.
The reunion was emotional. His dad had his own family but had never forgotten Gleb.
“I’m chuffed you found me, son. We’ll stay in touch now,” the man said, hugging him.
Gleb proudly listed off his own family—his dad was already a granddad twice over, and counting…
Turned out his dad was a professor of medicine.
Gleb came home buzzing. His dad was brilliant—warm, genuine.
Life kept him too busy for frequent visits, though. Eventually, they lost touch.
Emily and Charlie grew. Kira decided to pursue her PhD—both her nan and mum had theirs in philosophy, and she didn’t want to lag behind.
Her thesis topic was no accident: Shakespeare. She buried herself in research while raising two kids.
Gleb supported her, helping at home where he could. Three years flew by in a blur—then, surprise! Little Sophie arrived.
The PhD had to wait.
Once Sophie started nursery, Kira dove back into her studies. She was *this* close to finishing…
Then, out of nowhere, Gleb fell ill. Something rare, life-threatening. Doctors were stumped. Gleb wasted away before her eyes. Treatment failed.
Kira was told to brace herself. Forty years old—how could this happen?
The agony was indescribable. Gleb, wrecked with guilt, begged her forgiveness—for leaving her with three kids…
Kira wept silently. She also knew she was carrying another. She couldn’t tell him—it’d destroy him further.
She refused to believe this was how her happiness ended. What had they done to deserve this?
“Gleb, you *will* get better! You can’t leave us—I need you!” she sobbed beside his bed.
In desperation, she called his dad. The professor rushed over, examined Gleb, then shook his head. He pulled Kira aside.
“Love, modern medicine’s got nothing. I’ll prescribe something to ease things, but…”
Kira waited—for a miracle, for him to pull out some magic cure.
None came.
She crumpled. Her last hope was gone.
“Right, enough tears. No use fearing what’s already here,” his dad said. “There’s an old herbalist—saved me once. Go to him. He’ll help.”
The next morning, Kira met the herbalist. She showed him Gleb’s notes. He skimmed the scribbled diagnoses, then said,
“Clear as day. Here’s the treatment. Don’t overdo the drops. Exact doses. Bring your husband in ten days—we’ll continue.”
“*Bring* him? He can’t move!”
“Listen, girl. No medicine cures death—but your man’s alive. You’ll bring him. I *promise*—he’ll walk in.”
Kira nearly tore up the prescription. “Herbs? Rubbish!” But she sighed. “Worth a try. Got no other option.”
Ten days later, Gleb and Kira stood at the herbalist’s door. A month after that, Gleb was back at work. A miracle? The herbalist never named the illness. His treatments came with one rule: “Forgive everyone. Envy no one.”
Kira gave birth to a boy—Oliver.
Emily, Charlie, Sophie, Oliver. Straight out of a Shakespearean tale!
Gleb and Kira are endlessly happy. They guard their love fiercely—knowing happiness has short legs, while sorrow strides miles in a single step.
As for the PhD? Kira put a full stop on that.
Family—that’s her life’s greatest work.
