З життя
Эхо предательства: история любви и прощения
Зоя копала грядки у дома, когда подошла соседка Марфа. Та будто невзначай бросила:
— Зоя, а твой Мишка что, дома не ужинает? Он, между прочим, у Елены Сергеевны за столом сидит…
Зоя замерла. Руки опустились.
— Марфа, ты что мелешь?!
— А то, что сама видела, — злорадно прищурилась та. — Вчера шла к учительнице — сына спросить. Гляжу в окно, а там твой Михаил с ней за столом, будто семья. Постучала — он под стол как мышь нырнул.
— Врёшь. Выдумала всё, — Зоя махнула рукой, но спина уже холодела.
— Да на кой мне врать? Не веришь — как хочешь. Только потом не жалуйся.
Зоя будто и не поверила, но камень на сердце остался. Тем более, Миша в последнее время от еды отказывается. Третий день приходит с работы: «Устал, есть не буду». Ни борща, ни тефтелей.
Вечером, когда муж рано заснул, Зоя ворочалась без сна. Смотрела на его лицо в лунном свете и гнала мысли прочь. «Не может быть. Не может…»
На следующий день Миша не вернулся. Ужин остыл. Зоя, не выдержав, накинула платок и побежала к дому Елены Сергеевны.
У калитки она замерла. Тишина. Свет горел только в прихожей. Но что за куртка висит в коридоре? Похожа. Очень. И тут её осенило. Дочка Анюта недавно вышивала — и, гордясь, украсила отцовскую куртку ромашками. Зоя дрожащими руками вывернула подкладку. Маленькие цветочки впились в глаза, как нож. Сердце заколотилось. Ноги подкосились. Она села прямо на пол. Слёзы потекли сами.
Через минуту в коридор вышел Миша. Растрёпанный, виноватый.
— Зоя… ты не так поняла…
— А ты что, географию здесь учишь? Или у вас уроки до полуночи? — Зоя встала, и в голосе было больше горечи, чем злости. — Я-то, дура, верила, что ты устаёшь… А ты — с ней, за одним столом. И под стол прячешься, как таракан!
Миша бросился за ней, но она уже бежала через улицу.
— Зоя! Ну прости! Люди же видят!
— Пусть видят! Я не по чужим хатам шляюсь. Мне стыдиться нечего! Это тебе — и ей — должно быть стыдно!
Елена Сергеевна была в деревне на особом положении — городская, с манерами. Местные для неё не считались. Жила в коммуналке и мечтала вернуться в Москву. Пока не сломалась ступенька на крыльце. Она расплакалась на пороге. В этот момент проходил Миша. Помог, починил. А потом… остался на чай.
С этого и началось.
Сначала — магазинные печеньки. Потом — котлеты. Потом — долгие разговоры за столом. Елена не любила Мишу, но и одиночество тяготило. А он… Он гордился. Учительница! С ним чай пьёт!
Но теперь всё вылезло наружу.
Зоя рыдала в подушку. Девятилетняя Аня и шестилетняя Катя приползли к ней и тоже заплакали. Просто потому что мама плачет.
Развод? Да куда идти? Родителей нет. В деревне — одни пересуды. Работы — кот наплакал.
Миша винил себя. Не подходил к Зое несколько дней. Жил, как чужой. Сам варил, сам стирал. Пытался говорить, каялся, клялся — но Зоя была непреклонна.
— Иди к своей учительнице. Я тебе не пара.
— Зоя… ради детей…
— Не прикрывайся детьми! Не тебе теперь их вспоминать!
Прошло два месяца. Школа кончилась. Елена уехала. Собрала вещи и исчезла. А в доме Зои и Миши повисла мёртвая тишина.
Август. Последние дни лета. Девочки играли во дворе.
— Анька! Катька! — позвала Зоя из окна.
Девочки вбежали в дом. Мать протянула свёрток:
— Отнесите папе в поле поесть.
Аня с Катей помчались во весь дух. Трактор Миши стоял посреди нивы. Девочки замахали руками.
— Пап! Мама передала!
Миша вышел из кабины, будто очнулся.
— Мама?! Передала?! — переспросил он.
— Держи! — Аня протянула свёрток. — Там котлеты и хлеб.
Миша сел на землю, разложил еду, вдохнул запах свежего хлеба. Глаза затуманились.
— Па, ты что, плачешь?
— Нет, это пыль…
Вернувшись домой с полевыми цветами, Миша подошёл к Зое.
— Прости меня, Зоя. И спасибо.
— Да ладно. Не простила бы — не накормила бы, — Зоя впервые за долгое время улыбнулась.
Прошло девять месяцев. В семье родился Ваня. Крепкий, румяный, с папиными глазами.
А Миша? Миша больше ни разу не зашёл к чужим женщинам даже за спичками.
Теперь он знал точно: дом — это самое дорогое, что у него есть.
I’ve Had Enough of Impromptu Weekend Visits: How My Brother-in-Law’s Family Took Over Our Home (and My Life) Until I Finally Stood My Ground – Was I Wrong to Set Boundaries When Uninvited Guests Showed Up With Kids, Expected Meals, and Never Asked About Our Plans?
I’ve simply had enough of you lot turning up every weekend! Perhaps youve met the sort of person who genuinely...
How Can a Mother Do Such a Thing? She Sent Her Four-Year-Old Son to a Children’s Home Rather Than Get Him Treated – A Tale of Heartbreak, True Friendship, and a Second Chance at Family
How on earth do such mothers exist! She sent her own child off to a childrens home because she couldnt...
My Sister-in-Law Spent Her Summer at a Holiday Resort While We Renovated the House, and Now She Expects to Live in Comfort With Us We suggested pitching in together with my sister-in-law to renovate the family home, but she flatly refused, claiming she didn’t need it. Now she wants to move in with us because her half has no modern comforts—her own fault! The house belonged to my husband’s grandmother, and after she passed, it was split between my husband and his sister. It was old and neglected, but we decided to renovate and make it our home. It’s a semi-detached property with two entrances, so two families could live there comfortably without getting in each other’s way. The garden and outbuildings are shared, and both sides have the same number of rooms. The inheritance was sorted after we married, and everything went smoothly. My mother-in-law immediately declined her share—she was a city person through and through. She told her son and daughter to do as they liked. My husband and my brother-in-law scraped together enough to repair the roof and shore up the foundations. We wanted to keep going, but my sister-in-law threw a tantrum. She wanted nothing to do with this “shabby old cottage.” Her husband just kept his head down—he never argues with her. We planned to move in. The village was close to town, we had a car, and were sick of living in a cramped one-bedroom flat. Building from scratch would’ve cost a fortune. For my sister-in-law, the house was just a holiday destination—she’d pop over in summer to barbecue or relax. She told us not to count on her help. Over four years, we completely renovated our half: bathroom, heating, electrics, new windows, even a conservatory. We took out loans, but it was worth chasing our dream. We worked tirelessly, day and night. All this time, my sister-in-law jetted off on holidays, showing no interest in the house or her share. She lived for pleasure—until she had a baby and went on maternity leave. That was the end of her travels and her cash flow. Suddenly, she remembered her share. With a baby in tow, she wanted space and fresh air for him to run around. By then, our half was finished and we’d let out our old flat. We never touched her side, but it had deteriorated badly over the years. I don’t see how they could have stayed—no heating, outdoor loo, it was unliveable. Even so, she turned up with her suitcase and begged to stay “just a week”—I let her in. Her son is loud, and like her, she does whatever she wants with no regard for anyone else. I work from home, so it drove me mad; I moved in with a friend for a bit, who actually appreciated having someone look after her house while she was away. I ended up staying away almost a month. First at my friend’s, then my mum fell ill and needed care. Honestly, I forgot about my sister-in-law, assuming she’d long since gone home. Imagine my shock when I returned and found her still there, making herself at home. I asked when she planned to leave. “Why would I go anywhere? I have a small child and I’m comfortable here,” she replied. “We’ll take you back to town tomorrow,” I said. “I don’t want to go.” “You haven’t even bothered to clean your side, so back you go—this isn’t a hotel.” “You’ve no right to throw me out! This is my house!” “Your house is on the other side of the wall. Go stay there.” She tried to turn my husband against me, but he also told her she’d outstayed her welcome. She sulked and left. A few hours later, my mother-in-law started ringing: “You had no right to kick her out—it’s her property!” “She could have stayed in her own half, she’s the lady of that house,” my husband said. “With a child? There isn’t even heating or a proper loo! You should have looked after your sister.” My husband finally lost his patience and told his mum everything: how we’d offered to renovate together, how it would have cost less—and she’d refused. Why was everyone blaming us now? We offered to buy her out—she named a price so high we could have bought a brand new house for it. Not a satisfactory solution for us. Now there’s constant tension. My mother-in-law is perpetually offended. Alina is a nuisance. They visit rarely, but when they do it’s noisy parties, petty sabotage, and damages in the garden. We’ve decided to build a fence and completely separate our section. There’s no more compromise—that’s what my sister-in-law wanted.
My sister-in-law spent her holidays at a cosy seaside resort while we were knee-deep in renovating our house, and now...
She Thought Her Husband Had a Big Appetite—Turns Out His Sister Was Stealing Food from Their Fridge
So, picture thisIm standing in front of my fridge, door wide open, absolutely baffled where all the foods vanished to....
My Childhood Friend Came to Visit—She Chose Not to Have Children, Preferring to Live for Herself and Now at 60 Has No Regrets About Her Life Choices
An old childhood friend of mine came for a visit. She never had childrenshed decided long ago not to. She...
I Came to Visit Because I Missed You, But My Own Grown Children Feel Like Strangers – A Mother’s Story of Disappointment and Longing for Closer Family Ties
I arrived to visit, missing you, but children feel like strangers now Diary Entry Parents are meant to always care...
Move Over, We’re Planning to Live Here for the Next Ten Years: When Family Turns Up Expecting a London Flat, Entitlement, and Old Promises Come Crashing Down
Move Over, Well Just Live Here For Ten Years My mother-in-law paused for a moment, then declared, Oh, Jenny, Vals...
I’ve Had Enough of Uninvited Weekend Visits! How My Brother-in-Law’s Family Turned Our Home into Their Holiday Retreat—And How I Finally Took Back My Weekends Without Offending Anyone
Im absolutely fed up with you lot showing up every weekend! Perhaps youve come across that sort of person who...