A Daughter’s Escape: Betrayal, Family Feuds, and New Beginnings
“Ungrateful child!” her mother’s voice shrieked sharply over the phone. “Return home immediately or else—”
In a flash, Svetlana ended the call and blocked her mother’s number. She couldn’t help but smirk bitterly to herself, Another addition to the growing list, she thought.
Only thirty minutes passed before the phone buzzed again. This time, a different number appeared—a clear sign her mother had resorted to new tactics.
“Sweetheart,” her mother spoke with forced sweetness, “we’re all terribly worried…”
“Really?” Svetlana snapped back. “Isn’t it a bit late to be concerned? Shouldn’t you have been worried when your precious daughter was entangled with my husband?”
“How dare you accuse her! She’s the one suffering most because of your selfishness!”
“Suffering?” Svetlana laughed harshly. “Poor thing must be devastated in my old bedroom. My heart truly aches for her.”
Her mother hissed venomously through the line, “You’ve always been a spiteful viper! Marina at least understands what family means!”
“Especially when it’s not hers,” Svetlana retorted coldly, then abruptly ended the call, tossing the phone onto the sofa as if it carried a disease.
At that moment, her father entered, weighed down with bags like a desert camel.
“I think that’s everything,” he murmured, scanning his purchases with the careful attention of a man diffusing a bomb. “I’m no expert, but the shop assured me these were essentials.”
“Thank you, Dad,” Svetlana said sincerely. “You’ve done more for me than anyone else ever has.”
He gave a tentative pat on her head, as if worried his touch might shatter her fragile state.
“I’m just trying to make up for lost time,” he remarked.
“This isn’t your fault. You always showed up when you could.”
The phone rang again. Svetlana glanced at the screen, snorting in disbelief.
“Looks like my sister’s decided to join the party now.”
“Don’t pick up,” her father warned.
“No, let me see what the newly crowned lady of the house has to say.”
Switching to speaker, she answered.
“Sveta, stop sulking!” her sister Marina’s petulant tone erupted. “We’re adults. We can discuss everything civilly.”
“Civil? You mean when a sister sleeps with the other sister’s husband? Or when it’s exposed?”
“Don’t be so primitive! Love is sacred—you don’t choose it!”
“Cheating, however, is a deliberate act—and an utterly despicable one.”
“You’re jealous!” Marina flared. “Jealous that Sergei picked me!”
“Jealous?” Svetlana chuckled. “Honestly, I thank you. You spared me the trouble of taking out the trash myself.”
The father nodded approvingly, while Marina sputtered indignantly on the other end:
“How dare you! Sergei is a wonderful man!”
“Of course. Especially in bed with his wife’s sister—quite the paragon of integrity.”
“You’ve always been vicious and jealous. Mom’s right—you’re rotten!” Marina screamed.
“And you, darling, have always had a taste for what’s not yours. Remember stealing my toys? Now you’ve graduated to husbands. Progress, indeed.”
After ending the call to her enraged sister, Svetlana started to prepare food.
“I’ll cook,” her father interrupted. “I’ve learned to fend for myself over the years. I’ll make you a meal worth licking your fingers for.” He winked playfully. “Though I can’t promise it’ll be gourmet—my cooking is about as graceful as a rhino at ballet.”
“You’re wonderful, Dad,” Svetlana replied, warmth filling her voice. “Thank you for welcoming me.”
“A parent’s home is always open to their children. And if your mother forgets that sometimes… Time will set things right.”
Within half an hour, the smell of fried meat and herbs filled the kitchen.
Svetlana observed her father working at the stove.
“Dad, why are you alone?” she inquired, breaking the quiet.
He paused, as though the world had stopped for a moment.
“I remarried once, but it didn’t last. Seems I’m destined to be a bachelor. At least now no one fusses about my scattered socks.”
Svetlana nodded, choosing not to delve further. After putting her daughter to bed, she returned to help her father.
“Stay here with me,” he said unexpectedly, stirring a sauce. “Take your time fixing things. I’m not sending you away. You can live here as long as you need—to retirement, if you want. Mine, that is.”
“Thank you, Dad,” she responded softly.
Then the floodgates opened. She poured out her heart, interspersed with sobs and deep breaths. She spoke of a husband loved beyond words, the birth of her daughter, and the hopes of a surprise homecoming…
“…only to walk in on that fool with my sister! And she’s pregnant by him! And can you imagine—Mom knew everything! She covered for them, like the worst accomplice…”
Her father listened silently, his expression darkening with each revelation.
“A den of vipers,” he muttered finally.
His succinct verdict brought a small relief to her burdened soul, as if a weight had slightly lifted.
“You won’t believe it, kiddo,” her father grinned suddenly. “I was thinking… maybe we should send your ex a care package—live cockroaches, perhaps. Or take a voodoo class. I hear it’s effective for situations like this.”
Svetlana couldn’t help but laugh.
“Dad, you’re hopeless!”
“Concerned about justice, that’s all,” he shot back, feigning offense.
Cooking continued with jokes and increasingly outlandish revenge schemes. Though the pain lingered, being with her father made Svetlana feel protected.
As evening descended, her phone buzzed relentlessly, like an infernal machine ready to explode.
Every so often, Svetlana snatched the receiver.
“Enough of this!” she shouted after declining yet another call. “You vultures, leave me be!”
Her irritation grew with each ring—from the cheating husband, the venomous mother, to all others demanding her return as if she were a stray.
“Yeah, right! I’m running back to that snake pit? No way!” she scoffed, adding one more number to the blacklist.
By nightfall, her contact list resembled an abandoned graveyard of blocked callers. She couldn’t believe her “loving” relatives owned so many phones.
“What a family, damn them,” she murmured, rocking her softly sleeping daughter. “Don’t worry, baby—we’ll get through this. Without those two-faced snakes.”
Night gently faded, the quiet hum of the fridge accompanying the slow conversation between father and daughter. Svetlana shared stories about school, friends, and future plans.
One week after fleeing her unfaithful husband, Svetlana had settled at her father’s home with her baby.
Hundreds of calls from Margarita Stepanovna flooded her phone as if possessed. Her mother begged for her return incessantly.
“Are you out of your mind?! Go back to your husband now!” her mother screamed into the phone.
Svetlana refused to reply and blocked yet another number, silently hoping for an apology from either her mother or ex-husband—though neither seemed willing to make the first move due to pride.
One day, returning from a clinic visit, she froze at the living room door, startled by a pile of boxes and noises from her room.
Peeking in, Svetlana saw her father assembling a beautiful crib, with a finished stroller nearby.
“Daddy, you’re amazing!” she whispered, overwhelmed.
“A man does what he must for his granddaughter,” he chuckled through his mustache.
Svetlana kissed him on the cheek and brought little Arina over to do the same; the playful toddler merely snorted like a kitten.
That night, Arina slept soundly in her new crib. Svetlana switched on the nightlight, stepped out silently, and shut the door.
The kitchen was dim.
The gray-haired man sat turning a cup of cold tea in his hands, lost in thought. Svetlana sat opposite him.
“Dad,” she began cautiously, “I’ve wanted to ask… Why did you leave Mom?”
He stood and gazed out the window. The silence stretched painfully.
“You’re not my biological daughter,” he confessed softly.
Svetlana gasped.
“I found out three years later,” he continued, voice trembling. “Forgive me for leaving you. I just couldn’t live with the truth.”
Unsure what to say, Svetlana rose and gently touched his hunched back.
She embraced him, wanting to merge with this man both familiar and strange. On impulse, she kissed his shoulder blades.
“Dad,” she whispered.
“Just don’t leave,” he said hoarsely. “Stay here.”
“But Dad, if we aren’t connected by blood…”
“It doesn’t matter. Just stay.”
From the nursery came the baby’s cry. Svetlana started.
Time passed. Soon Arina was happily playing in the sandbox, an adorable child with curious eyes and chubby cheeks.
“Hey, you little rascal! Don’t eat that sand!” Svetlana teased, crouching beside her.
Arina responded with joyous laughter, patting sand cakes with tiny hands.
“You know, sunshine,” Svetlana smiled, adjusting her daughter’s sunhat, “your mom was smart at your age. Sometimes stubborn, though.”
Arina looked up solemnly and offered a sand cake.
“For me?” Svetlana was touched. “Thank you, my love.”
The phone rang for the third time that evening. While soothing a fussy Arina, Svetlana answered.
“Svetlana?” Margarita Stepanovna’s sharp voice came through. “Finally! I thought you’d forgotten the phone even exists.”
“Good evening,” Svetlana replied evenly. “Arina’s teething, so she’s cranky.”
“Ah, teething!” her mother sneered. “I thought you were just avoiding me.”
“If you have something important, say it.”
“Important? What could that be to an old woman? I only wanted to check on my granddaughter. But apparently that’s too much for a grandmother nowadays.”
“Let’s skip the drama. Arina is healthy, and her first teeth have come in.”
“Drama!” her mother protested. “I’m trying to be part of the family!”
Svetlana counted silently to ten.
“Goodbye.”
She hung up, realizing this conflict would not resolve anytime soon.
That night, with Arina asleep, Svetlana sat with her father in the kitchen.
“Dad, I want to take a DNA test.”
He nodded, neither surprised nor opposed.
A week later, the results arrived negative. Her father’s story was true; he was a stranger by blood.
“I may not be your biological father,” he said calmly, “but I will always be your dad.”
“Of course,” she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder.
Several months passed.
Svetlana went for a walk while her daughter, Arina, slept peacefully in her stroller—a little angel with golden curls and rosy cheeks.
“Ready for new adventures, kiddo?” she winked at the sleeping baby.
Suddenly, her phone buzzed. “Ex” appeared on the screen. Svetlana rolled her eyes and declined the call.
“Damn you, Dmitry,” she muttered.
After four court hearings—which Dmitry had not attended—they finalized their divorce. Now the issue was the apartment Svetlana had purchased through hard work before marriage.
“Hello, ‘A Roof Over Your Head’ agency?” she called the next day. “I have a problem. My stubborn ex-husband is squatting in my apartment. Could you… politely escort him out?”
A few days later, Svetlana’s phone rang continuously.
“What is this, Groundhog Day?” she groaned. “Mother, sister, or ex—choose your poison!”
The agency then informed her:
- Your property has been cleared of unwanted occupants.
- There are interested renters for your apartment.
“Feels like a spy movie,” Svetlana sighed. “Did you happen to haul the ex away in a suitcase?”
The next day, an elderly lady with silver hair and a shrewd squint arrived to help her move.
“So, you want to pack up without bumping into the ex?” the woman said. “Oh, men—I’ve been married three times, and all three were jerks!”
Svetlana laughed.
“I thought I was just unlucky. Turns out it’s a widespread problem!”
A few days later, all of Svetlana’s belongings were relocated to her new place.
“Well then, little one,” she said while watching Arina sleep. “It looks like we’re starting fresh. No deadbeat dad, but with our own income. Trust me—that’s far better than living with a womanizer.”
The following day, an unusual little procession strolled along a verdant path.
Leading the way, pushing Arina’s stroller, was Mikhail Nikolaevich. Beside him hurried Svetlana, struggling to keep pace with his long strides.
“Hey, Dad, slow down! This isn’t a race!”
“Sorry, kiddo. Forgot you’re no athlete—more of a couch critic.”
“Very funny. We’ll see who reaches the ice cream stand first!”
Months after the divorce, Dmitry abandoned his pregnant girlfriend Viktoria as soon as financial support ceased. She returned to her mother, tail tucked between her legs, receiving harsh blame for Svetlana from both her mother and new husband.
Meanwhile, Svetlana savored peace in her father’s home. Each morning, the joyful laughter of growing Arina filled the air as she toddled confidently and charmed her grandfather with her first words. Svetlana found remote work, rented out her apartment, and embraced happiness. No lies or betrayals clouded her life, and her father provided the unconditional love she had always longed for.
In conclusion, this story illustrates the resilience of a young mother navigating profound betrayal and family conflict. Through hardship, Svetlana found refuge and support in her father’s unconditional love. Her journey underscores the importance of courage in breaking free from toxic relationships and embracing new beginnings filled with hope and genuine affection.