Irina stood by the window of their tiny kitchen, watching her seven-year-old twins, Dima and Max, play outside as the setting sun painted the sky in soft pink hues. Their home on the outskirts of town was modest but warm: two stories, with a small garden and an old apple tree under the window. They had lived there for six monthsever since burying Pavel.
*”Mom, when will Dad come back?”* Dima asked, walking into the kitchen and pressing against her.
Her heart clenched, but she kept her voice steady. Ruffling his hair gently, she replied, *”He wont come back. Hes in heaven now, watching over us. Remember?”*
Max ran over too, and Irina hugged them both. They looked so much like Pavelthe same dark hair, gray eyes. Sometimes it hurt, but more often, it comforted her.
*”Mom, whats for dinner?”* Max asked.
*”Potatoes and cutlets,”* she lied. The fridge was nearly empty.
Money was running out. Her widows pension was meager, and finding work with two young children was nearly impossible. The thought gnawed at her daily, but she forced herself to stay strong in front of the boys.
Then came a sharp knock at the door. Unusual for them. Irina tensed.
*”Go to your room,”* she told the boys.
*”Who is it?”* Dima asked.
*”I dont know. Go play.”*
Once they left, she peered through the peephole. Two men in dark suits stood outsideone tall and lean, the other shorter, stockier.
*”Who are you?”* she called without opening.
*”Alexei Viktorovich and Sergei Nikolaevich. We need to talk about your husband.”*
*”My husband is dead.”*
*”Thats why were here. Please open the door.”*
After a pause, she unchained it. The men introduced themselves and stepped inside.
*”Pavel Sergeyevich was our client,”* the tall one, Alexei, began. *”He left a debt.”*
*”What kind?”* Her blood ran cold.
*”Gambling. A large sum.”* Sergei handed her a document. Her hands shook as she read the staggering figure.
*”This cant be real! Pavel played sometimes, but never for these amounts”*
*”He did,”* Alexei cut in. *”And lost. Now you pay.”*
*”I dont have that kind of money! I have kids, no job”*
*”Not our problem,”* Sergei shrugged. *”You have a month.”*
*”And if I cant?”* she whispered.
They exchanged a glance.
*”You will,”* Alexei said. *”We strongly advise it.”*
When they left, only fear remained.
Months later, Irina stood at Pavels grave, chrysanthemums in hand, the twins beside her. Autumn leaves drifted onto the fresh stone.
*”Papa, we love you,”* Dima whispered, placing a drawing on the grave.
*”And remember you,”* Max added.
Irina studied Pavels photohis smile frozen before the debts, before his addiction. She recalled his final months: irritable, secretive, always “out with friends.” Shed suspected drinking, not this.
*”Forgive me, Pavel I didnt know”*
At the cemetery gates, Alexei and Sergei waited, smoking.
*”Boys, go to the car,”* she told the twins before facing them.
*”Our condolences,”* Alexei said.
*”What do you want?”*
*”A reminder. Three months have passed.”*
*”Im trying to find work, but with children”*
*”Find a way,”* Sergei interrupted. *”Or we will.”*
Alexei produced the IOU. *”His signature. The house is collateral.”*
*”The house? Its all we have!”*
*”Was,”* corrected Sergei. *”If unpaid, its ours.”*
*”Three more weeks,”* Alexei said. *”Think carefully.”*
At home, Irina counted her meager savings. Useless. Staring at Pavels photo, she whispered, *”Why risk our home?”*
Silence answered.
The next day, she took the boys to school and visited banks. Denied everywhere.
That night, after bedtime, she finally let herself crytears of pain, fear, despair. Outside, rain fell like the world wept with her.
The following day, her friend Lara approached her in the store.
*”Heard youre job hunting. A womans looking for a caretaker for her disabled son. Pays well.”*
*”Where?”*
*”A gated community. Heres the number.”*
Evening came; Irina called Anna Mikhailovna, who scheduled a meeting.
The next day, Irina arrived at *Sosnovy Bor*. Anna Mikhailovnaelegant, fiftiesgreeted her.
*”Lara told me your situation,”* she said as they settled in the lavish parlor. *”Widowed, two sons, in need. I require a caretaker for my son, Stanislav. But this role is unique.”*
*”Unique how?”*
*”I dont just need a nurse. I need a wife for him.”*
Irina blinked. *”You mean”*
*”A marriage of convenience,”* Anna clarified. *”Hes been comatose for six months. Doctors say he may wakeor not. If he does, hell need family. A wife. Your boys could be his sons.”*
*”Why me? Hire a nurse”*
*”A nurse is an employee. Family is more.”*
The offered sum stunned hertriple Pavels debt.
*”This feels like deception,”* Irina murmured.
*”Mutual aid,”* Anna corrected. *”You gain security; we gain hope. No harm, only good.”*
At home, Irina paced, torn. That night, Dima asked if she was upset.
*”Just tired,”* she said.
*”Well help!”* Max hugged her. *”Were big now!”*
She knelt, holding them. *”What if we moved? A big, beautiful house. A sick man needs us.”*
*”Is he nice?”* Max asked.
*”Like a sleeping prince,”* she said. *”Maybe youll wake him.”*
The next morning, she called Anna. *”I accept. But the boys keep their school, and I meet Stanislav first.”*
Stanislav lay in a sunlit room, surrounded by machines. Handsome even in sleephigh cheekbones, dark lashes.
*”He was vibrant,”* Anna said. *”Athletic, worked in the family business. Engaged until she left.”*
Irina took his warm hand. *”Hello,”* she whispered. *”Ill care for you.”*
Did his fingers twitch in response?
A week later, they moved in. The twins adored their new rooms, toys, and “Uncle Stas,” reading to him, drawing pictures.
Irina learned tube feedings, massages, monitoring machines. She spoke to him, sharing stories, as if he heard.
One morning, mid-massage, his eyes fluttered openaware, questioning.
*”Stanislav? Can you hear me?”*
He managed a hoarse sound. She gave him water.
*”Dont speak. Youre home.”*
The boys burst in. *”Hes awake!”*
Stanislav smiledhis first in half a year.
Anna wept, hugging Irina. *”You brought him back.”*
*”We all did,”* Irina said.
Recovery was slow but steady. Stanislav regained speech, movement. He bonded with the boys, treating them as his own.
One evening, he told Irina, *”I remember your voice.”*
*”I hoped you heard.”*
*”It helped me fight.”*
Their bond deepenednot romantic, but profound.
When Stanislavs father visited, he studied Irina. *”Youve changed this house. My son.”*
Stanislav took her hand. *”Papa, this is my wife.”*
Vladimir nodded. *”You gave him family.”*
That night, in the garden, Irina reflected. Six months ago, shed despaired. Nowhome, security, a future.
*”Thinking how much changed?”* Stanislav asked, leaning on his cane.
She nodded. *”It felt hopeless.”*
*”Now we have tomorrow,”* he said. *”Together.”*
Laughter echoed from the houseDima and Max doing homework, Anna reading. Imperfect, but alive.
*”Well manage,”* Irina said.
*”We will,”* he agreed.The years ahead were filled with challenges, but they faced them together, their love and resilience turning a desperate arrangement into an unbreakable family.
