When the nurse opened the heavy doors of the maternity ward and said to the young woman, “Go with God, child,” her voice sounded serene, almost affectionate. But her gaze, that icy gaze, was as if she weren’t looking at a person, but at statistics. Well, another girl, with no one to see her, no flowers, no balloons.
And the others, look, they bring cognac, gratitude, sweets. And this one, clearly, is a single mother. And why do these people give birth? They can’t support themselves or the child, the nurse thought, looking at the thin girl awkwardly carrying a bundle of baby.
Alice—that was the name of that young mother—slowly left the maternity ward, looking around. Spring was blooming outside, generously spreading the scent of lilacs. Somewhere nearby, families were overjoyed to welcome their newborns, and one of the men, struggling not to cry, held his little miracle in his arms.
But no one approached Alice. She stood on the porch trying to figure out where the taxi she’d called an hour earlier had gone. It was past three, and almost four, but there was still no sign of the car.
Maybe I was wrong, or maybe the operator was. Chaotic thoughts filled her head. But what truly tormented her was a simple fact: she had nowhere else to go.
A door slammed behind her, and a noisy group emerged onto the porch. One of the women, wearing a sparkly dress and carrying a huge bouquet of flowers, excitedly thanked the new father for the wonderful service; another excitedly explained something to the overjoyed new father. Alice felt superfluous in this celebration of life.
Just a couple of months ago, she couldn’t even imagine she’d find herself in a situation like this. A year ago, she was a normal student. She studied, made plans, dreamed.
And now… Alisa hugged the bundle of her daughter tighter to her chest, as if trying to protect her from the cruel reality. Tears treacherously flowed, but she held back. No, not now.
You can’t fall apart now, just… Alisa came to this city from a small village. After high school, she didn’t go to school because she couldn’t leave her grandmother, who raised her. Her parents died when Alisa was ten.
But Grandma Valya always believed in her granddaughter. “You’re smart, the city is waiting for you. Study, daughter, and escape poverty too.”
And when Grandma left, Alisa fulfilled her dream of going to university. She studied brilliantly and received a scholarship for being an orphan. It seemed life was starting to look up.
And so, in her third year, she met him. Nikita. Five years older, self-confident, charismatic, working for a renowned company.
He turned his head so fast that she didn’t even notice him moving from the dorm to her apartment. It seemed to her then that she was the love of her life. Nikita said the right things, cared for her, hugged her as if she wanted to protect her from the whole world.
But as soon as she started talking about marriage, he changed the subject: “Well, why? A piece of paper won’t change anything, it’s just…” And yet, Alice believed. She would get her diploma, they would get married, start a family, and be happy.
And then she discovered she was pregnant. At first it was euphoria; now everything would definitely be different. Now she’ll be with me forever, Atuf.
But Nikita took the news strangely. “What?” “Pregnancy.” “Well, we have to do something about it.”
“Make up your mind quickly,” he said tersely on the phone, as if he were talking about choosing pizza for dinner. Alice couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Nikita, I can’t…”