Barbara had been married for three years and thought she was living a perfectly normal life. There was no luxury or wealth, of course, and the apartment was rented, but she was with the man she loved, the one she had been smitten with since high school.
Her Andrew had always been a cheerful, carefree, handsome guy who easily drove girls crazy. But Barbara didn’t consider herself attractive and never hoped for more than simple friendship with him.
She wrote his essays, completed his tests, and helped with homework, while he, taking the notebooks from her hands, would gratefully kiss her on the cheek and run off to have fun. Barbara, meanwhile, could only watch him leave with a heavy heart.
At the graduation party, Andrew invited her to dance and, in a sudden burst of gratitude, called her his best friend.
— I always knew I could count on your help, and it was so great. Thank you!
— What, don’t you need my friendship anymore? — she asked sadly, looking into his eyes.
— Of course not! — he pulled her close with a strong arm and hugged her tightly. — We’ll definitely keep in touch and meet up.
For a while, it was like that. He called, asked how she was, whether she’d gotten into college and where, but then he disappeared. He vanished for a long five years. Barbara managed to finish college, found a good job, and moved out of the dorm into a rented apartment she could now afford on her own.
Overall, she was content with life, but she deeply missed having a family. She wanted to come home not just to a place, but to loving people who would wait for her and genuinely rejoice in seeing her.
Her circle of acquaintances was very small—no relatives, no friends, just a couple of casual contacts, nothing more. As the years passed, she no longer hoped that anything would change. So, when the doorbell rang one evening, she was very surprised and hurried to open it. Andrew stood at the threshold.
— Hello, — he said, smiling in a way that made her heart race wildly.
They sat at the table, and he told her about his life over those years. It turned out he had been married, but unsuccessfully—his wife was cruel and mercenary. She wanted only money from Andrew and even used the birth of their daughter to extract as much as possible from him.
— Wait, you have a daughter? — Barbara asked, her voice faltering.
— Yes, I do. But even that didn’t stop me. I left them, you understand? I’m divorcing my wife. I’ll pay child support for my daughter, but I won’t live with her mother. And do you know why?
— Why?
— Because I realized I’ve loved only you my whole life.
— Andrew!!!
— Yes, don’t be surprised. I just realized it too late. That’s all. Yesterday, I ran into Sarah Johnson by chance, asked about you, and she told me you’re not married and live here. So I decided to stop by. Can I stay with you tonight?
Andrew stayed for good. They quietly got married, avoiding noisy and unnecessary celebrations, and lived a calm life, just like many other married couples.
Barbara was quite happy, but one thing was missing—a baby, whose arrival would mark a new chapter in their family life.
Unexpectedly, she realized Andrew didn’t want to have children with her; his daughter from his first marriage was enough for him. But one day, giving in to her pleas, he agreed, and soon Barbara was pregnant.
— I hope this time it’s a boy. If you have a girl, I won’t pick you up from the hospital, — her husband said to Barbara when she told him they’d soon have a baby.
Barbara smiled in response, but something in his gaze unsettled her, though she tried to push the unpleasant thoughts away. At the first ultrasound where the baby’s gender could be determined, an elderly doctor told her:
— Well, mommy, everything’s fine. You’re having a little girl, a beauty, just like her mom.
Barbara was overjoyed, but a needle of doubt pricked her: she thought about how she’d tell Andrew. And he, of course, jokingly repeated that he’d leave her at the hospital if it wasn’t a boy.
And so Barbara stood watching happy fathers pick up young mothers and gently carry their newborn babies. One dad carried twins, smiling bewilderedly at the two squealing bundles. But Barbara kept waiting and waiting for Andrew, hoping he was just running late.
But he didn’t come. Not after half an hour, not after an hour. He didn’t answer her calls either. So Barbara, holding her baby close, walked home on foot. She had no money for a taxi, and she was too scared to take the bus—what if her little girl caught some infection?
At home, another unpleasant surprise awaited: it turned out her beloved apartment had already been rented to new tenants. Andrew, who had taken over the rent payments in recent months, hadn’t paid the landlord or the utilities.
Barbara’s things were packed into a large bag, and a stout, unfamiliar woman advised her to take them quickly, or she’d throw them out on the street.
Barbara burst into tears. She was exhausted, hungry, and her daughter started fussing loudly. And now, with no money, no home, and a huge, heavy bag she couldn’t carry or leave behind, where could she go?
Barbara called a few acquaintances, but they refused to take her in—everyone had their own worries and no concern for a struggling woman with a newborn in her arms. She somehow made it to a nearby park, sat on a secluded bench, fed little Annie, and then wept bitterly, uncontrollably.
How long she sat there, Barbara didn’t know. Holding her daughter tightly, she even dozed off, her head dropping to her chest. When she woke and looked around, evening was already falling. A poorly dressed woman passed by, then turned back and looked at Barbara:
— Why are you sitting here? Do you have nowhere to go?
— Nowhere…
— I see. Come on, get up, come with me.
Numb to everything, Barbara stood, but then stumbled and sat back down—she had no strength left. The woman helped her up again and waved to someone. People approached, picked up Barbara’s bag, and helped her stand. That’s how she ended up in a homeless shelter, brought there by people as poor as she was.
The first days were a blur of tears and despair for Barbara, but Claudia, the woman who had taken pity on her, said one day:
— You have no right to give up. You met one scoundrel, and you think life is over? No, my dear, no! You must live for this little bundle of joy and never do what I once did.
— What did you do?
— I lost my daughter. She was just like your little one, tiny and so pretty. I gave birth to her in prison, — Claudia suddenly blurted out sharply.
— In prison? How?
— Like this. My fiancé, Peter, got caught up in some bad business. I won’t go into details; you don’t need to know. I loved him so much I felt I couldn’t breathe without him. To save him from prison, I tried to prove he was with me that day. Of course, I got tangled up, lied, and in the end, I got a sentence, even though I was pregnant.
And you know the funniest part? His rich parents paid well, and their precious son avoided punishment. They made sure I was not only accused of lying but also made an accomplice to the crime. It took me years to realize I was an unwanted daughter-in-law, and my daughter was a nuisance to them. When she was a month old, they took her from me. They didn’t even tell me where.
After my release, I searched for my girl for a long time, but all traces were lost. My ex and his family moved away, leaving no address. Only their former gardener told me my baby had existed, but not for long. They gave her to an elderly woman in a village to raise. I never found her. I started drinking from grief, then came to my senses. Now I live and work here at the shelter, helping the poor and the broken.
— My grandmother raised me, — Barbara said for some reason. — And she never told me about my parents. I don’t know why… you know, she never loved me. She raised me like it was a burdensome duty.
We lived together, but I always felt unwanted, unnecessary. Of all the people I’ve ever met, only you, Aunt Claudia, have shown me any compassion.
Barbara and Claudia became friends and helped each other in everything. When Barbara got the chance to rent a place, she moved out and took Claudia with her.
Five years passed. One day, the grandmother who raised Barbara called and asked her to visit. Barbara took Claudia and went to the place where she had lived for so many years.
The old woman barely recognized her granddaughter and shook her head when she saw little Annie.
— Your daughter looks so much like you. Same blonde hair. Do you know why I called you? I want to tell you the truth. In short, Barbara, you’re not my granddaughter. They entrusted you to me and paid me well for it. They were rich people; I don’t even know their names.
But here’s what I have—a savings account in your name. Your real grandmother sent money here every year, and now you can take it. I confess, I hoped my good-for-nothing grandson would marry you and get rich, so I kept the money and saved it. But he chose a different path and died six months ago.
Your grandmother’s gone too. I’m also headed for the other side soon; I won’t be around much longer. But you’ve got a little girl growing up. This will help you…
— Grandma, how could you? Why didn’t you tell me? I had a right to know the truth!
— And what good would the truth do you? Your mother, Claudia, was a convict, they told me. Your father, Peter, wants nothing to do with you.
— Peter? But my middle name is Sergeevna!
— You weren’t listening. They did everything to hide whose daughter you are. But I do have a photo of your real grandmother. Since she’s gone, I can show you. Here, look.
Barbara looked and handed it to Claudia, who hadn’t said a word during the old woman’s story.
— How sad I’ll never find my mom, — Barbara cried out in grief. Her head was spinning from all the news. — I can’t even imagine where she is now!
— Here… — came a quiet voice from the corner where Claudia stood. — That convict is me.
— Barbara, it turns out I’m your mother, and this, — she pointed to the photo in her hands, — is my Peter’s mother, Natalie Wilson.
— Exactly, Natalie, — the stunned old woman said. — So that’s how it is? And you’re Claudia…
She kept muttering, but no one listened. Mother and daughter, crying, embraced each other as if meeting for the first time.
When they returned to the city, they bought a large, spacious apartment and lived quite happily.
One day, Barbara stopped by her mother’s workplace. Claudia still worked at the shelter, but now as a social work specialist, not just a regular employee.
As Claudia walked her daughter to the car, they passed a man with overgrown, unwashed hair, still young. He looked at the women grimly, took a few steps, then turned back to look again, shook his head, and went inside.
— Who’s that? — Barbara asked.
— A newcomer. He was in rehab after an accident, then found out his wife kicked him out. Poor guy… Now he lives here.
— Don’t feel sorry for him, Mom. God gives everyone what they deserve.
Barbara glanced at the door where Andrew had disappeared and kissed her mother, who was surprised by her words.
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