A Stepfather’s Choice: From Burden to Unexpected Redemption
“Andrey, promise me one thing… don’t abandon Larisa,” whispered Nina weakly from her bed, her voice frail yet desperate. “You realize how delicate her health remains. She requires continuous care… You know it won’t be easy, but I fear she won’t make it on her own. You will watch over her for the next two years… Please, look after her well… for my sake… for hers…”
Andrey gave a solemn nod, clenching his jaw to keep calm. Sitting beside her, he took her fragile, almost translucent hand in his. Although outwardly composed, turmoil churned within his soul. Her plea echoed in his mind, yet deep inside, he envisioned the moment when it would all be over—when freedom would finally arrive and a fresh start could begin.
When Nina’s illness first emerged, shock gripped him. Doctors had outlined diagnoses, survival chances, and treatments. Andrey was hopeful they could overcome it. He immersed himself in research, rushed between clinics, imported medications. Yet as time wore on, hope faded like melting snow. Exhaustion settled deep: weariness of hospital odors, IV drips, the silence punctuated only by coughs and moans. Most of all, he grew weary of Larisa.
Larisa dwelled within the same house, but it was as if she scarcely lived. She transformed into a shadow, a continuous burden, a relic of a life unrelated to him. She was not his biological child; she had entered his life as an outsider, remained distant, and might leave just as disconnected. No hatred stirred inside him towards her, but love was absent too. Only fatigue, a weight, and an incessant internal whisper: “I want to live. I want my freedom. I have but one life.”
“I want to live. I want to be free. I have only one life.”
With thoughts of deserting Nina, he rehearsed farewells in his mind. Yet societal judgment loomed: neighbors, relatives—all would condemn him. Abandoning a dying spouse is no simple matter. But everything shifted when a doctor warned, “No more than one year remains.” At that point, Andrey resolved to endure the pain—as one tolerates a toothache until the dentist’s arrival—because a prized asset was involved: a spacious four-room apartment inherited from Nina’s first husband. Nestled in a prestigious downtown neighborhood, it promised excellent value—potentially the foundation for a new life.
And Larisa? She was but a minor obstacle—a sickly girl destiny had thrust upon him. “She could be disposed of legally,” he mused, contemplating options: orphanage, nursing home, sanatorium, or even a rural retreat, where she might quietly disappear from his world—just not within his home.
Nina’s funeral passed swiftly, quietly, and empty. Her years of illness had driven away friends, coworkers, even closest kin. Only rituals remained: flowers, customary nods, and condolences that sounded rehearsed. Andrey appreciated the absence of tears and memories. His wish was simple—to bring an end to everything.
At the funeral, he encountered Liza—a vibrant young woman whose sparkling eyes and radiant smile illuminated the room. She arrived alone; her boyfriend had left her stranded by the roadside without taxi fare. She hailed a ride and, coincidentally, caught a lift with Andrey. Conversation blossomed during the drive, continuing before long into a romantic relationship.
Liza was in her thirties yet carried the spirit of a youthful summer fling—light-hearted, whimsical, brimming with hope and eagerness for life. Andrey yearned for such existence: laughter, leisurely walks, embraces, kisses. He longed to escape the pervasive scents of medicine, hospital linens, and oxygen masks. Gradually, Liza kindled warmth within his heart.
- Within a month, Liza moved into his apartment.
- Shortly afterward, Larisa’s antagonism surfaced intensely.
- Her presence was invasive; she refused to leave them alone, silently glaring with hostility.
- Her defiance toward Liza was blatant, although she relied on assistance even to rise from the couch.
Andrey often pondered, confused: “Why such behavior?”
Eventually, Liza expressed her frustration bluntly:
“Either you address this, or I’m leaving.”
He responded bitterly, “What can I do about her?”
Her reply was a quiet murmur: “Could you… maybe get rid of her?”
Startled, Andrey regarded her as if she had transformed into an alien. Yet Liza’s smile reassured him.
“Relax, I’m joking. No extreme measures needed. But Larisa has a house in the village, right?”
“Yes, we visited years ago when she longed for her grandmother’s home.”
“And what’s its status now?”
“I don’t know. We thought of selling it but never followed through.”
“Could you find it?”
“I will. Why?”
“You’re not as clueless as you seem,” Liza laughed. “Tell everyone the doctor prescribed fresh country air. Arrange a caregiver and take her there for a few months. Let her solitude remain a secret.”
“So, you want her to… die there?”
“I’m not dictating anything. Fate will decide her path. Perhaps her mother awaits her. Perhaps she has remained too long here. You realize she’ll never be ‘normal.’ So, why not help her find release?”
Andrey contemplated this newfound perspective. It wasn’t criminal—it was simply compassion for a sick girl.
Three days later, everything was arranged.
“Larisa, we’re heading to the village,” he announced.
She stirred, murmuring, “Why the village?”
“Doctor says the fresh air and sunlight will heal you. It’s better than medicines.”
With a sneer, she retorted, “Is the doctor’s name Liza by chance?”
Andrey frowned: “Why treat her this way? She only wishes well for you.”
“Of course… you quickly forgot Mom,” Larisa snapped.
He countered, “That’s irrelevant. I’m thirty-five, not seventy. Your mother struggled over a year.”
Larisa grimaced in pain but said nothing.
Grandmother Alyona watched intently as smoke curled from the chimney and observed:
“Your friend left without a word.”
Larisa smirked: “Why revive sadness? He brought me here to die—not for healing.”
Alyona glared: “You say to die? We shall see. I’m not one to surrender so easily.”
Lying down with a tired sigh, Larisa requested rest.
Alyona escorted her roomward and busied herself with preparations, mentioning a nearby store for groceries. “Did that scoundrel not leave any money?”
Larisa handed over an old doll containing a fat wad of cash.
“Here’s money to survive.”
Grandmother beamed, “This will keep us afloat for years. Soon, we’ll even plant a garden.”
Once the fresh blanket warmed the couch, Larisa fell asleep peacefully. The clinking of pots and gentle humming soothed rather than disturbed her.
When called, she awoke gradually and sat up, gathering her senses.
“Larisa, come eat—you haven’t touched food in a day.”
Despite initial hesitance, hunger won over, and as Alyona set the table, she chatted nonstop:
“Neighbors here are kind—one even brought potatoes and promised fresh milk without charge.”
Before finishing, a young man appeared carrying milk. He addressed Larisa:
“Mom sent this. When do you wake? I need to mow but won’t disturb you.”
“What’s your name?” asked Alyona.
“Dimka,” he replied.
“Come in, let’s share a meal and talk,” Alyona invited.
- Almost a month passed peacefully.
- Larisa gazed at herself in the mirror, cheeks rosy.
- Alyona remarked cheerfully about her changing appearance.
- Larisa admitted she felt unfamiliar to herself and hopeful about walking to the lake without collapsing.
Alyona smiled, setting aside sewing, “Drink my herbal teas and eat well—that’s why.”
Larisa cried for the first time since arriving: “I don’t want to die.”
Suddenly, Dimka appeared with exciting news.
“Larisa, Dad bought a lovely new boat. Let’s go on the lake. Who hurt you? Tell me.”
Alyona smiled quietly, “Your young protector’s reliable, even at nineteen.”
Two years elapsed.
“You! Can’t even sell the house without me?” Liza chastised Andrey.
Burdened by loans, Andrey recalled his village property and that Nina had shown him the documents.
“Maybe Larisa isn’t buried there?”
“Stop fantasizing! That grandmother’s mind wasn’t right. She wouldn’t last a month alone,” Liza scoffed.
They stopped before a well-kept village house, smoke rising from the chimney.
“Looks lived-in, perhaps villagers restored it. Let’s see,” Liza suggested.
Two ski travelers approached swiftly—a young man and a girl.
The girl exclaimed: “Look who’s here! Dad and his girlfriend! What are you doing?”
Liza’s eyes widened; Andrey nearly stumbled.
“Larisa! You were supposed to…” he stammered.
“I’ll manage. I’m turning eighteen soon. Pack up and go,” Larisa cut him off.
Liza urged Andrey to leave, bewildered.
Unable to respond, Andrey fled to the car as his carefully laid plans crumbled.
Alyona emerged, pancakes in hand: “Back from your visit? I baked plenty, knowing your favorites.”
Larisa kissed her cheek: “No, just the wind. Let’s eat—I adore pancakes.”
Key Insight: This story highlights how compassion can transform even the bleakest situations. From the stepfather’s reluctant burden to Larisa’s revival in the countryside, it reveals the complexities of human relationships and unexpected paths to healing.
In conclusion, this narrative captures the challenging journey of care, selfish desires, and ultimately, hope. The initially burdensome duty of looking after Larisa evolves into a tale of survival and renewal, reminding us that sometimes, unexpected changes lead to new beginnings.