When I turned eighteen, my mother tossed me out of the house. Years later, destiny led me back, and inside the stove I uncovered a hidden compartment that kept her chilling secret.
Anya had always felt like an outsider in her own home. Her mother clearly favored her older sistersVika and Yuliashowering them with affection and warmth. This imbalance pained the girl deeply, yet she hid her bitterness, constantly trying to earn her mothers approval and a sliver of love.
Dont even think about living with me! The flat will go to your sisters. Youve always looked at me like a wolf cub since you were a child. So go wherever you wish! With those words, her mother drove Anya out the moment she turned eighteen.
Anya tried to argue, to point out the injustice. Vika was only three years older, Yulia five. Both had completed university thanks to their mothers support; no one had forced them into independence. Anya, however, was always the odd one out. Despite all her attempts to be good, the familys affection toward her was merely superficialif it could even be called affection at all. Only her grandfather treated her kindly. He had taken in his pregnant daughter after her husband vanished without a trace.
Maybe Mom worries about my sister? They say I look a lot like her, Anya mused, searching for a reason behind her mothers coldness. She had tried several honest conversations with her mother, each ending in a scandal or a tantrum.
Her grandfather, though, was a true pillar. Anyas fondest childhood memories were linked to the village where they spent summers. She loved working in the garden, tending the vegetable patch, milking cows, baking piesanything to delay returning home, where each day greeted her with contempt and reproaches.
Grandpa, why does nobody love me? Whats wrong with me? she often asked, tears restrained.
I love you very much, he replied softly, never mentioning her mother or sisters.
Little Anya wanted to believe he was right, that she was loved in a special way But when she turned ten, her grandfather died, and the familys treatment of her grew harsher. Her sisters mocked her, and her mother always sided with them.
From then on, she never received anything newonly handmedown clothes from Vika and Yulia. They ridiculed her:
Oh, look at that fashionable top! Sweep the floor, Anyawhatevers needed!
If their mother bought sweets, the sisters ate everything and handed Anya only the wrappers:
Here, dear, collect the wrappers!
Her mother heard it all but never scolded them. Thus Anya grew up as the wolf cubunwanted, forever pleading for love from people who saw her not just as worthless but as a source of mockery. The harder she tried to be good, the more they despised her.
Consequently, when her mother expelled her on her eighteenth birthday, Anya took a job as a hospital orderly. Endurance and hard work became her habit, and at least she earned a modest wage. Here, no one loathed her. If youre not met with malice when youre kind, thats already progress, she thought.
Her employer even offered her a scholarship to train as a surgeon. In the small town, such specialists were scarce, and Anya had already shown talent while working as a nurse.
Life was tough. By twentyseven she had no close relatives. Work consumed her entirelyshe lived for the patients whose lives she saved. Yet loneliness lingered: she resided alone in a dormitory, just as before.
Visiting her mother and sisters was a constant disappointment, so Anya avoided it whenever possible. While they would gather to smoke and gossip, she would retreat to the porch and weep.
One such moment, a colleagueorderly Grishaapproached her:
Why are you crying, beautiful?
What beautiful Stop mocking me, Anya replied softly.
She saw herself as plain, a gray mouse, not noticing that at nearly thirty she had become a petite, charming blonde with large blue eyes and a neat nose. The awkwardness of youth had faded; her shoulders straightened, and her short hair, tied in a tight bun, seemed eager to break free.
Youre actually very beautiful! Value yourself and lift your head. Besides, youre a promising surgeon, and your life is shaping well, he encouraged.
Grisha had worked with her for almost two years, occasionally sharing chocolates, but this was their first real conversation. Anya broke down and told him everything.
Maybe you should call Dmitry Alekseevich? The one you saved recently. He treats you well and has many connections, Grisha suggested.
Thanks, Grish. Ill try, Anya answered.
And if that fails, we could marry. I have an apartment and wont mistreat you, he added jokingly.
Anya blushed, suddenly realizing he was serious. He saw not a pitiful orphan but a woman who deserved love.
All right. Ill consider that too, she smiled, feeling for the first time in years that she was not a workhorse or unnecessary, but a beautiful young woman with a future ahead.
That evening Anya dialed Dmitry Alekseevichs number:
This is Anya, the surgeon. You gave me your number and said I could call if there were problems she began, hesitating.
Anya! Hello! Wonderful that you finally called! How are you? Actually, lets meet. Come over, well have tea and talk. We older folk enjoy a chat, he replied warmly.
The next day was her day off, so she visited him immediately. She honestly explained her situation and asked if he knew anyone needing a livein caregiver.
You understand, Dmitry Alekseevich, Im used to hard work, but now I feel I cant take it any longer
Dont worry, Anechka! I can get you a surgeons position in a private clinic, and youll live with me. Without you, I wouldnt be here now, he said.
Oh, of course, Dmitry Alekseevich, I agree! But wont your relatives mind?
My relatives only appear when Im gone. They care only about the apartment, he answered sadly.
Thus they began living together. Two years later a romance blossomed between Anya and Grisha, often unfolding over tea. Yet Dmitry Alekseevich disliked Grisha and never missed a chance to warn Anya:
Sorry, dear, but Grisha is a good guy, just weak and impressionable. You cant rely on him. Try not to get too attached.
Oh, Dmitry Alekseevich Its too late. Weve already decided to marry. He even jokingly proposed two years ago. And now Im pregnant Anya announced joyfully, almost glowing. She had just learned the news and added, But youre still very important to me! Ill visit every day. Youre like family.
Well, Anyutka Im not feeling well. Tomorrow well go to the notary, and Ill register a house in the village in your name. Youve always loved rural life. It could be your dacha or you can sell it if you wish.
He hesitated, didnt finish his sentence, and frowned.
Anya tried to object: it was too much, he would live a long time yet, better to leave the house to his children. In the past two years theyd visited him only once. Still, Dmitry Alekseevich was adamant.
She was shocked to discover the house lay in the very village where her beloved grandfather had lived! His home had long been demolished, the plot sold, strangers now occupied it. Yet having her own little corner there stirred warm memories.
I dont deserve this, but thank you, Dmitry Alekseevich! she said sincerely.
Just one thing: dont tell Grisha the house is in your name. And dont ask why. Can I ask this of you? he pressed.
He looked serious; Anya nodded, promising compliance. How to explain the houses origin to Grisha remained a puzzle, but she could claim shed reconciled with her mother.
Later Anya learned that Dmitry Alekseevich, besides suffering stroke aftereffects, also had cancer. He refused surgery. In the end, Anya organized his funeral and moved in with her future husband.
Troubles began around the seventh month of pregnancyby then theyd lived together six months.
Maybe you should work a bit before the baby arrives, Grisha suggested.
By then Anya had temporarily left the clinic where Dmitry Alekseevich had gotten her a job, hoping to live on savings and Grishas support. His words surprised and hurt her.
Well maybe she answered uncertainly. It was awkward because she bought groceries, and Grisha turned out stingy. Yet the child grew, and she didnt want to abandon the wedding.
A week before the planned ceremony, while Grisha was away, an unfamiliar woman entered their apartment with her own key.
Hello. Im Lena. Grisha and I love each other, and hes just afraid to tell you. So Ill say it: youre no longer needed, declared a tall, thin blonde confidently.
What?! Our wedding is in a few days! Weve paid for everything! Anya stammered. Shed shouldered most of the expenses for a modest celebration at a café.
I know. No problem. Grisha will marry me. I have contacts at the registry office; well arrange everything quickly, Lena announced as if it were already settled.
When Grisha returned, he merely muttered:
Anya, sorry Yes, its true. Ill help with the baby but cant marry you.
Well do a paternity test, Lena added, placing her hand on Grishas shoulder.
What paternity test?! Youre my first and only! Anya shouted, lunging at him.
Shell scratch you up, silly! Shes almost thirty but acts like a child! Lena scoffed.
Grisha stood silent, not defending Anya, only looking down. It became clear: everything hinged on Lena; he was a passive observer.
Anya began packing. There was no point fighting a man who gave up on her so easily. Lena claimed she and Grisha had dated long agoshed been married then but was now free. Anya was just a temporary placeholder until Lenas dream woman arrived.
She could have demanded explanations, but what was the use if he let Lena walk in and do it for him?
So the house finally came in handy, Anya thought.
The house was indeed useful, though it lacked running water. The stove, however, was excellenther grandfather had taught her everything needed for village life. It was livable. How to give birth alone? There was still time; she would figure it out.
Firewood was stacked, the shed sturdy, and snow lay at the entrance, ready to be cleared. The woodpiles were fulla real treasure in such cold!
It helped that Dmitry Alekseevich had introduced her in advance to the neighbors as the new mistress and wife of his son, avoiding unnecessary questions.
Anya, of course, called her mother and sisters. As usual they offered their usual advicegive the baby to an orphanage and next time dont get involved with anyone before the wedding. They also gossiped about how Grisha hadnt returned the wedding money, half of which she had paid.
But no one knew about the house. Now Anya could hide from everyone and gather herself.
It was terribly cold; she didnt even remove her down jacket. While raking the coals in the stove, the poker struck something hard.
She removed her gloves and pulled out a wooden box that had been buried in the firewood. It was neatly sealed, with large letters on the lid: Anya, this is for you. She recognized the handwriting instantlyDmitry Alekseevichs.
Inside lay photographs, a letter, and a small tin. Her hands trembled as she opened the envelope and began to read:
Dear Anechka! You should know that I am your grandfathers brother, and he asked me to look after you.
The letter revealed that many years earlier a serious rift had arisen between the grandfather and Dmitry. Before dying, the elder brother found Dmitry and asked him to locate Anya after she turned eighteen. He also left her an inheritance that his daughter would never part with.
Dmitry hadnt been able to find Anya immediatelythe mother and sisters hid her address. Fate, however, brought them together in the hospital when he was a patient and she his doctor. He wanted to tell her earlier but ran out of time, so he decided to give her the house her grandfather had purchased from him while alive, knowing his daughter would never give anything to the granddaughter.
Another shock lay in the letter: Anyas mother was not her biological mother. Anya was actually the daughter of her late sister, whom she had hated and envied. The photo showed a young mother and father, smiling, hugging a little girl. Anya survived because she was with her grandfather on the day of the accident.
In the box were fivethousandruble notes left by the grandfather. Touching them warmed her heart. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Now she and her baby were safe!
When she lit the stove, it seemed as if all her fears, betrayals, and resentments vanished in the flames. She would start anewfor the baby and for herself.
She knew she would eventually forgive those who had hurt her, but she was done with them. This house would be her sanctuary.
Dmitry Alekseevich always said a good house should belong to someone who values it. He claimed he had built it in his youth with his own hands, using the best materials.
Not a house, but a marvel! It will stand for two hundred years! he often repeated. The village was reachable by busjust two stops away.
Yes, the pay was low and help with the baby still uncertain. But the main thing was that she now had a roof over her head, some savings, a profession, youth, beauty, and a son on the way.
For the first time, Anya truly felt happy.
