It began with a gentle tap—soft, cautious, as if afraid to make a sound.
Thirteen years had gone by without a word, but in that instant, the past resurfaced, demanding attention. Anna’s body froze in response to the sound, her hands still covered in flour from the pie she was baking, her heart racing with a name she hadn’t uttered in over a decade.
The man who had disappeared suddenly and without explanation, without any remorse—the father her children hardly recalled, and the ghost she had given up on waiting for. Why at this time? Why, after all these years, had he returned?.
‘anna sergeyevna, your discharge papers are ready “Is someone coming to pick you up?” the nurse inquired softly, her eyes filled with genuine concern as she observed the weak and fatigued woman.
‘i I’ll handle it on my own,’ Anna replied, trying to sound confident.
The nurse paused. It had been a week since Anna’s challenging delivery, and no one had come to visit—not even her husband. He had only made one call, his voice devoid of emotion, instructing her to not wait for him.
Anna lifted little Liza into her arms, cradling her gently. The nurse handed her the other newborn, mitya. A single, delicate existence—her own to embrace now. She carried a tattered bag over one shoulder and held a pack of diapers in her free hand.
‘Are you sure you can carry all that?’ the nurse asked, still uneasy
‘no, it’s fine The bus stop is not distant.
A short distance—just a kilometer through icy streets. She proceeded cautiously, each step serving as a constant reminder of her stitches and the discomfort she experienced. But there was no one else. Financial constraints were severe—there was barely enough money for basic necessities like bread and milk, let alone a taxi.
The wind blew snow into her face, her back felt sore, and the bag tugged at her shoulder. Despite the twins being snugly wrapped in blankets, she felt their warmth, which was more comforting than any coat.
At the bus stop, individuals hurriedly passed by, covering their faces to protect themselves from the chilly weather. No one extended assistance, merely fleeting glances at the solitary young mother. As the bus pulled up, an elderly woman assisted Anna in getting on board and guided her to an available seat.
‘Are you going to meet your husband?’ the woman asked kindly
‘yes,’ Anna whispered, though it wasn’t true
Part of her still believed ivan would come around. He might have been feeling stressed. Perhaps witnessing the birth of their children—one boy and one girl, just as they had discussed—would alter his perspective.
But the house was quiet and chilly. The air had a musty odor, dirty dishes accumulated in the sink, cigarette butts were stored in a jar, and empty bottles were scattered across the floor. Anna placed the infants on the couch, ensuring they were comfortable, and then opened a window to let in fresh air. A sharp, intense discomfort surged along her torso.
‘ivan?’ she called out
He stepped out of the bedroom wearing his robe, glanced at the babies, at her, at the bags—and his face remained emotionless.
‘They were so loud,’ he remarked, pointing towards the sleeping twins
‘they’re calm,’ Anna whispered softly, moving closer Mitya is only distressed when he is famished. Aren’t they stunning?
Ivan retreated. His expression flickered with repulsion; he was revolted. Fear?:
‘I’ve been thinking ‘Isn’t it for me?’
Anna blinked. ‘What?’.
‘kids, diapers, crying “I’m not prepared.”
‘but you knew they were coming,’ she said, her voice trembling
‘I changed my mind,’ he said firmly I desire to live, not be trapped in this chaotic situation.
He swiftly passed by her, retrieved a gym bag from the closet, and started filling it with clothes.
‘Are you going?’ she inquired, her voice barely audible.
‘i’m leaving,’ he repeated, not even glancing at her ‘We’ll resolve the rent issue at a later time.’
He swiftly closed his bag and finally glanced at her, annoyance evident on his face.
‘you stay The apartment is in your name. I am not seeking guardianship. I won’t contribute to the child’s expenses either—this was your decision. “It is now your duty to take care of this matter.”
He strolled to the sofa. Mitya’s eyes, as dark as his father’s, remained fixed on the man who was slowly disappearing into the distance.
‘I don’t want them,’ Ivan said quietly
He spat on the floor, snatched his coat, and forcefully shut the door. The windows rattled. Liza started to cry, her tears gentle at first, as if she comprehended.
Anna fell down. Her abdomen was vacant—devoid of optimism. Isolated, solitary, alone. With two infant children. With only a small maternity allowance and a chilly apartment, she was left with very little.
Liza’s wails became more intense. Mitya was the one who joined her. As if jolted awake, Anna pulled herself up, scooped them into her arms, and held them tight.
‘shh, my darlings,’ she whispered, rocking them I assure—I will never abandon you.
Snowflakes swirled in the looming darkness above. The sun had gone down. It marked the beginning of a series of extended nights they would endure together, without the man who should’ve remained.
At 3 a.m., mitya finally succumbed to sleep. Liza had dozed off sooner, nourished and cozy. Anna arranged them in a makeshift crib—a repurposed microwave box covered with a cozy wool blanket. The fire in the stove was fading, but she was too exhausted to relocate it.
‘we’ll survive,’ she whispered into the dark
That pledge sustained her through the years.
‘grandma klava!’ Liza, a five-year-old, exclaimed, ‘Mitya won’t eat his porridge!’, her pigtails bouncing as she rushed into the yard. ‘he says it’s bitter!’.
‘it’s buckwheat, sweetie—it’s supposed to taste like that,’ the elderly woman said, adjusting her scarf
‘in the garage.’ He became enraged.
Klavdiya petrovna sighed. Anna had taken on a night shift at the farm, stepping in to cover for someone who was ill. The children were staying with their neighbor, who had become like a grandmother to them over the years. Initially, the community had condemned Anna—abandoned, disgraced. However, as time went on and they witnessed her resilience, they wholeheartedly embraced her.
‘let’s go check on our little grump,’ klavdiya said, taking liza’s hand
Mitya perched on a bucket that had toppled over in the shed, using a stick to prod the soil. Thin and recently shaved due to a lice outbreak, he appeared small and resistant. Liza had held onto her braids—she had cried when Anna attempted to cut them.
‘why are you making your sister eat alone?’ klavdiya asked gently, sitting beside him
‘the porridge is gross,’ he muttered
‘do you know what your mama wants more than anything?’ klavdiya said softly, brushing his head She toils diligently every day so that you may consume. Can’t you consume just a small amount for her?
Mitya raised her head, exhaled, and rose.
‘okay Can I have bread with it?
‘of course! “I’m so glad we could all get together and enjoy some delicious food and drinks,” said Klavdiya, her voice filled with warmth.
That evening, Anna returned—exhausted, her eyes red but with a smile on her face. In her tattered bag, she carried a can of condensed milk, a loaf of bread, and a small bag of candy.
‘Mama!’ the children exclaimed, rushing to embrace her
‘my sweet loves,’ she whispered, kneeling to gather them in her arms
Liza began narrating tales—about playful kittens, a dress crafted from klava’s previous one, and how mitya resisted eating porridge but eventually succumbed to its allure.
Anna chuckled gently, drawing them nearer. She was weary, yet she was at home. And they were her motivation to continue.
‘there’s going to be a party at kindergarten,’ liza announced, breathless with excitement
Anna froze, her heart skipping a beat. She glanced at her daughter, who was beaming with a genuine smile, completely oblivious to the hurtful impact her words had.
‘We should invite dad,’ Mitya whispered quietly
Anna took a deep breath, her throat constricting. This was the moment she had dreaded—the inquiries were starting to come.
‘You don’t have a father,’ she said gently
‘Why not?’ Liza questioned, her brow furrowing. ‘Sasha has one.’ Marina, I agree. We have done a great job on this project. I think we should write a conclusion that summarizes our main points and highlights our contribution. What do you think? Even despite his disability, even kolya—the boy who battles and stumbles—has a father. Why don’t we?’.
‘your father…’ anna began carefully, keeping her voice steady He decided not to remain.
‘so… he doesn’t love us?’ mitya whispered, tears welling up in his eyes
‘i don’t know, my love,’ she replied, brushing his short hair with her fingers I adore you sufficiently for both of us.
That evening, the twins remained content and didn’t cry due to hunger or discomfort. They shed tears of realization, acknowledging that there was an absence of something important. Anna was between them, embracing them. Instead of fairy tales, she narrated stories about forest animals who were content and secure, even without a father, because their mother showered them with her unconditional love.
At the municipal office, Anna’s voice trembled with anger. Her fists were tightly clenched.
‘what do you mean denied?’
Alla Viktorovna, a woman with a round figure and fiery red hair, anxiously shuffled through some documents.
‘anna sergeyevna, please try to understand The summer camp has a limited capacity. Families in more critical situations should be given priority.
‘we are in need I’m raising my children independently!
‘technically, you have two jobs ‘Your earnings are excessive to meet the requirements.’
‘so i should quit one job? Because one salary won’t cover our expenses!’.
Alla sighed and took off her glasses.
‘I understand, I sympathize But I Don’t Establish the Regulations. Some households have more offspring, or offspring with special needs. It’s a difficult decision.
‘my kids’ father abandoned us I have not received any financial assistance. I’m barely able to afford food!
After a moment, alla got up and went to get a folder.
‘there is one option,’ she said softly Could you assist me in the kitchen?
‘I’ll do it,’ Anna said without hesitation
‘It’s hard work—long hours, little rest
‘I don’t care I’ll utilize my holiday days.
And that’s how Liza and Mitya witnessed the sea for the very first time. Anna diligently cleaned pots, peeled vegetables, and fulfilled any task assigned to her. The kids frolicked, enjoyed themselves, and basked in the sunlight. Mitya grew taller, and Liza learned to swim. They ceased inquiring about their father.
‘sidorov, are you dumb or what?’ liza barked, stepping in front of her brother
Sidorov, a tall and lanky sixth-grader with a rosy complexion, scowled.
‘Why, behind your sibling, mitya? ‘Mama’s little one?’
‘Leave him alone,’ Liza growled
Mitya kept his gaze downcast. His lip was lacerated and his cheek contused.
‘no dad, no brains,’ Sidorov muttered, spitting near Mitya’s feet
Liza struck him forcefully. Just as he was about to answer, mitya lunged and delivered a powerful blow to his stomach. Sidorov collapsed. The siblings spun and dashed.
They halted at the antiquity of the well, breathless.
‘Why did you jump in?’ Liza inquired
‘I wanted to protect you,’ mitya mumbled
‘idiot,’ liza muttered, but there was warmth in her voice She moistened a handkerchief and passed it to him. ‘place this on your lip.’.
They sat in silence on a corroded pipe, observing the sunset.
‘Mom’s gonna be mad,’ Mitya said
‘no, she won’t,’ liza replied
And she did. Anna remained composed. She tended to his injuries, listened to Liza’s hurried account, and then embraced him tightly.
‘I’m proud of you,’ she said
‘but fighting is wrong,’ mitya murmured
‘it is,’ Anna agreed
Later that night, Mitya inquired, ‘was Dad a bad person?’
Anna hesitated. The recollection hurt.
‘no,’ she responded gently Not very strong. He was not prepared to take on the role of a father.
‘Where is he now?’ Liza inquired
‘I don’t know Maybe in the urban area. ‘Perhaps he has a different household.’
‘so… he doesn’t care about us?’ mitya whispered
‘we care about each other,’ Anna said softly
That evening, slumber was difficult to attain. The kids were maturing. Eventually, they would have to confront the reality—that their father left the hospital as soon as they returned home, spat near their crib, and never returned. But not yet. They were still ten. Still hers to guard a little longer.
Years passed.
One afternoon, Liza encountered him for the very first time. A man stood near the school fence, shifting uneasily, his gaze darting between the children. His attire was tattered, his hair turning gray and unkempt, his face showing signs of exhaustion and puffiness. But the shape of his eyebrows, the angle of his jaw—it made her stomach twist.
‘Mitya,’ she whispered, tugging her brother’s sleeve
Mitya lifted his gaze from his book and followed her eyes as she pointed to something in the distance. His face became rigid.
‘that’s…’
The man observed them and froze. His countenance transformed—surprise, doubt. He extended his hand, uncertain whether it was a gesture of greeting or a protective barrier.
‘hi,’ he said, his voice hoarse Anna’s children?’.
They failed to respond. A eternity had elapsed since his departure.
‘I am your father,’ he finally said
‘we know,’ Liza replied coldly, stepping in front of her brother
Ivan recoiled in fear as her words had wounded him.
‘I just wanted to see you To converse. I have been pondering a lot.
His voice quivered. He smelled of booze and tobacco. His dark eyes—so similar to Mitya’s—were filled with remorse.
‘Mom’s home,’ mitya finally said
‘I came for you,’ Ivan said, stepping forward To be aware of your existence.
‘without you?’ liza snapped Why now—after thirteen years?’.
Ivan’s shoulders drooped. He was taken aback by her frankness.
‘I know it’s my fault,’ he whispered Despite the hardships, life has been challenging. I was fired, evicted, and sick. And now I ponder.. Perhaps it’s not too late to establish a connection with you?’.
His voice quivered. Mitya stared at the floor, clutching his coat. Witnessing his father in this state was distressing—like observing a broken object still attempting to maintain its form. But liza remained resolute, unyielding.
‘well, now you’ve seen us,’ she said coldly ‘Mom is waiting for us.’
‘wait,’ Ivan pleaded, extending his hand I could pick you up from school, perhaps lend a hand—’.
‘do you even know what grade we’re in?’ Liza shot back What we enjoy? What are our concerns? What are our subconscious thoughts?
Each query struck with force. Ivan’s eyes were fixed on the ground, his mouth agape in silence.
‘You know nothing about us,’ she said, voice quivering. ‘And you don’t get to walk in and pretend you didn’t leave. Pretend you didn’t spit near our crib.’
‘Liza!’ Mitya gasped. ‘How do you know that?’
‘Mom told me,’ she answered calmly, eyes fixed on Ivan. ‘I asked. She didn’t lie. You left her alone with two babies, no money, no help. But she did it. Without you.’
‘I was young,’ Ivan muttered. ‘Scared. Unprepared.’
‘And her?’ Liza tilted her head. ‘She was 26. But she wasn’t scared.’
Ivan looked away, his past pressing down like a weight.
‘You’re strangers to us,’ Mitya said softly, but firmly.
‘You betrayed us,’ Liza added, her voice like stone.
The siblings turned away, leaning into each other as they always had in hard times. Ivan watched them go, and for the first time in years, tears welled in his eyes.
At home, Anna sensed something had happened the moment they walked in. Mitya’s pale face and Liza’s tense stance said it all. The scent of fresh apple pie still hung in the air.
‘What happened?’ she inquired, drying her hands as she approached them.
‘Dad came,’ Mitya blurted out
Anna was paralyzed. That word—dad—was like a specter.
‘Ivan? she whispered, struggling to say his name Why did her knees nearly buckle?
‘he said life crushed him,’ liza scoffed Now he recalls us. Wanted to ‘get to know us.”.
‘and what did you
‘the truth,’ mitya said, meeting her eyes That treachery cannot be rectified.
Anna concealed her expression, feelings overwhelming her. Anger: Fear: Relief: He was still breathing, and he recalled.
‘hey,’ liza’s hand landed gently on her shoulder, steady and warm ‘We stated what had to be said.’.
‘i’m sorry,’ anna whispered, eyes brimming I dreaded this outcome, but.. “I was not anticipating it to happen this quickly.”
‘Soon?’ mitya responded with a bitter laugh. ‘It’s been thirteen years!’.
‘for me, it’s still yesterday,’ Anna whispered softly
‘Did you want him to come back?’ Liza asked softly
Anna gazed at them—at their faces, where remnants of Ivan’s presence remained, but their spirits were resilient, unwavering, and compassionate.
‘No,’ she finally responded at last Stronger: A genuine family.
They embraced, three hearts intertwined by love and the will to survive.
‘he might come here,’ Anna warned after a moment
‘then what?’ mitya inquired
‘then we’ll tell him what you did,’ anna said, standing straighter That we endured his absence. And that it is beyond redemption.’.
The following day, the knock arrived—timid, hesitant. While having breakfast, Anna rose from her seat, smoothed her blouse, and straightened her shoulders.
‘I will do it,’ she replied.
Ivan was of advanced years, with a lean figure and a haggard appearance. He donned a borrowed shirt, carried a faint scent of inexpensive cologne, his hair meticulously groomed. However, the wrinkles on his face and the tiredness in his eyes revealed the passage of time.
‘Hi, Anya,’ he said, his voice sounding like rusted hinges
Anna looked at him, aloof. It was peculiar—how this individual had once possessed all the qualities of a person, but now seemed devoid of any significance.
‘why are you here?’ she inquired
‘I wanted to talk to you,’ he said
‘about what?’ she asked, crossing her arms
‘about how i ruined everything,’ he said
‘and suddenly remembered the kids?’ she asked coldly
‘it’s not like that,’ he said, then softened his voice I desire to rectify it. Help: Transfer funds—’.
‘Where did you get that from?’ she asked sharply. ‘I didn’t say I had nothing.’.
‘I’ll earn it,’ he said quickly
Anna failed to respond. She observed him—the apparition of a man who vanished without a backward glance.
‘they won’t forgive you,’ she said at last One day. But not them.
‘Why?’ he inquired, clearly hurt
‘because they know,’ Anna said They were infants. But I informed them. Everything: How you spat near their cribs. Said you didn’t need them. How you departed.’.
Ivan turned white as a sheet.
We will not tolerate any method that does not include line breaks I had no idea what I was doing—’.
‘but I did,’ she interrupted him When Mitya fell ill with pneumonia, I stayed up for three nights to take care of him. When Liza broke her arm and I had no money for a taxi, so I carried her. When I worked three jobs to ensure they had enough food and warmth.
Her voice was tranquil. Certain:
‘Vanya,’ she exclaimed, using his name for the first time, ‘you don’t belong here.’ I don’t despise you. I’m just.. Tired: And thankful.
‘grateful?’ he echoed, stunned
‘for leaving,’ she said But you departed. And we flourished.’.
He extended his hand. ‘anya, give me a chance. I’ll attempt—’.
‘Mom, are you okay?’ Mitya appeared in the doorway, Liza by his side
Anna agreed. ‘I’m okay. Ivan was about to depart.
Ivan observed the trio—united, unrelenting. Their visages reflected his, but not their spirits. He was an outsider.
‘there’s nothing to talk about,’ mitya said calmly
‘You erased us,’ Liza exclaimed
Ivan lowered his head, then slowly turned and walked down the dusty road—alone, burdened by the weight of years and regret.
Anna observed him depart. For the first time in years, she experienced a sense of liberation. The last link to the previous era had broken.
‘let’s go,’ she exclaimed, pulling her children close
They shut the entrance and resumed their morning meal. Three People. As always.
The tea was steaming. The apple pie emanated a cozy comfort, permeating the kitchen. Birds circled the ancient poplar tree outside, and the soft morning light filtered through the delicate lace curtains.
‘Mom,’ Liza inquired, placing her head on Anna’s shoulder, ‘are you feeling down?’
‘no,’ Anna said gently, kissing her children And you have me. ‘This is sufficient.’.
They savored their pie and engaged in a conversation about various aspects of life, including school, upcoming weekend plans, and the recent addition of calves to the farm. Their actual existence. The structure they had constructed, jointly.
Result:
In the quiet determination of a single mother and the unwavering loyalty of her children, this story finds its core—not in the reunion of the man who departed, but in the resilience of those he left behind.
Ivan’s return brings up old wounds but doesn’t erase the years of separation, suffering, and determination. As he strives for redemption, he encounters not animosity, but honesty—truthful, unwavering, and finally delivered.
Anna, who had to shoulder the responsibilities of motherhood alone, now stands with grace and pride, having raised two resilient, compassionate children who understand their own value. Mitya and Liza are resolute. They refuse to allow a ghost from the past to alter the reality they have experienced. Instead, they communicate with the resilience that comes from facing challenges together, united by a love that has been tested and proven over time.
Ultimately, this is not a tale of reconciliation—but of liberation. The door that used to slam shut in sorrow now closes with a sense of tranquility and understanding. Ivan departs as a stranger, while Anna and her children remain—a true family, not bound by flawless beginnings, but united by enduring love and unshakable honesty.
And as they gather once more around their humble kitchen table, with the aroma of freshly baked apple pie filling the air and the sound of laughter reverberating throughout the room, they are filled with a sense of completeness. Not because he returned—but because he departed, and they persevered. And then they prospered.