Anna Karpenko stood behind the counter of her flower shop, wiping her hands with a towel, as the scent of freshly cut roses filled the air. The October rain drizzled outside, soft and rhythmic, but inside, the shop was alive with the vibrant colors of flowers she had come to know and cherish over the past three years. It was a world she never imagined herself part of when she first opened the shop, but now it was her passion, her purpose.
The bell above the door rang, signaling a customer, but it was her husband, Mikhail, walking in. He didn’t come often, preferring to handle things over the phone or through texts. Today, however, something was different. She could sense it immediately in his voice as he greeted her with a kiss but avoided meeting her eyes.
“Hi, how’s it going?” he asked, though it was clear from his distracted tone that he wasn’t really paying attention.
“I sold five bouquets already, and Mrs. Kovaleva ordered another centerpiece,” Anna replied, trying to keep the conversation light. “She says our flowers last longer than anyone else’s.”
Mikhail barely nodded, his mind clearly elsewhere. He had that faraway look, the one that always preceded an unpleasant conversation. Anna put down the scissors, sensing the weight of what was coming.
“Anya, we need to talk about the shop,” Mikhail said, sitting down on a stool by the counter.
Her heart skipped a beat. She braced herself. “What about it?”
“You know it’s not really profitable, right? We’ve been running it for three years, and it’s still not making real money.”
Anna’s chest tightened. She had been working so hard, pouring everything into this shop, but hearing it from Mikhail felt like a blow. “What are you saying, Misha?”
He sighed, looking away. “Katia has problems. She’s divorced, the apartment’s with her ex-husband, and she has nowhere to go. She’s living with a friend right now, but it’s just temporary.” He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “We’re going to sell your shop and buy an apartment for her.”
Anna’s world tilted. Her stomach dropped as the words echoed in her mind. Sell my shop?
“What?!” she exclaimed, her voice shaking. “How can you say that? Sell my shop?”
“It’s not unprofitable, but it’s not really bringing in enough either,” Mikhail explained, his voice colder now, as if this decision was final. “Katia is family. She needs help.”
“And what about me, Mikhail?” Anna’s voice broke as she fought to keep her composure. “This is my life, my work. Do you know how much I’ve put into this?”
He stood up, his movements decisive. “Anna, I’m not asking for your permission. I’m just telling you what’s going to happen.”
“No!” she shouted, her fist slamming onto the counter. A few rose petals fell to the floor, but she barely noticed. “I won’t allow it. This is my shop.”
“The one I helped you open, with my money,” Mikhail retorted, his voice harsh.
His words stung like a slap. Anna felt the anger bubble up inside her, along with an overwhelming sense of betrayal.
“Am I just your hired help, then? Someone you can fire whenever you feel like it?” she asked, her voice trembling with emotion.
“Don’t be dramatic,” he snapped. “Family comes first. Katia needs this.”
“And I need you to believe in me,” she shot back, her eyes filling with tears. “I’ve worked so hard for this. Don’t I deserve your support?”
Mikhail’s face was unreadable as he spread his hands. “I’ve supported you for three years. Isn’t that enough?”
Anna’s heart shattered. She turned away, unable to look at him anymore. The rain outside intensified, and she could feel her tears joining the rain, silently trailing down her face.
“Just go,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Leave me.”
“Anya, don’t do this,” Mikhail pleaded.
“Go!” she shouted, her voice raw with emotion. The words felt final, and the way she said them made Mikhail flinch. He stood there for a moment longer before turning and leaving the shop. The bell above the door rang mournfully as he walked out.
Anna sank into a chair, her sobs wracking her body. She had spent three years building this business, putting everything into it — her dreams, her passion, her soul. And now it seemed like all of it was being erased with one simple decision.
She thought back to when the shop had first started. Mikhail had been supportive then, though hesitant. “Give it a try,” he had said. “But if it doesn’t work, don’t be upset.”
She had tried. She had given it everything she had, even when the first year had been a disaster — spoiled flowers, no customers, and no understanding of the business. But she had never given up. Slowly, things had started to turn around. The clients had come, and she had learned the delicate art of flower arrangement. She had finally started to see the fruits of her labor, only for Mikhail to suggest selling it all for his sister.
That evening, when Mikhail returned home, the tension between them was palpable. “Have you thought about what I said?” he asked, his tone heavy with expectation.
“I’ve thought about it,” Anna replied, not turning to look at him. “And my answer is still no.”
He let out a frustrated sigh. “You’re being selfish, Anna.”
“Selfish?” She turned to face him, her voice shaking with fury. “I’ve poured my heart into this shop, and you’re calling me selfish because I don’t want to throw it all away?”
“Katia needs a place to live.”
“And I need my shop,” Anna said, the words cutting through the air like a knife. “Let her work like everyone else, rent an apartment. Why is it my problem?”
Mikhail’s face darkened. “This is family.”
Anna stood her ground. “You know what? I’m done. I’m done being the second priority in my own life.”
With those words, she turned away, leaving Mikhail standing there, speechless. He didn’t know it yet, but his proposal would not only cost him the shop — it would cost him his wife.