January 2026 – Page 68

NEITHER WITH YOU, NOR WITHOUT YOU… “Never swear an oath. About anything. Promise lifelong love and life may send a different love you simply can’t refuse. Life is unpredictable. So just love, just rejoice, just live,” Vera Andrews would declare, convinced her wisdom was sound. “A new love? Mum, what do you mean? Isn’t that a kind of betrayal?” Anna looked at her mum in surprise. “Maybe it is, darling. Maybe it’s betrayal. Maybe it’s even an affair. But… how can I explain? Love fades. You can’t stop it, you can’t hold it. One day you’re completely indifferent to someone you once cherished, someone you adored. Trying to bring it back is like watering sand in the desert. Pointless. That’s just the way it is, Anna… A new feeling arrives. Call it electricity. Old love vanishes, a new current begins to flow. You don’t understand why. Why that spark of infatuation suddenly ignites. It’s both agonising and sweet. How do you fight forbidden passion? You meet your true one, and the other is bland by comparison. That’s chemistry for you. How do you describe, say, the colour red? You can’t. Words don’t work. Same with feelings.” Vera sighed deeply. Anna studied her mum carefully. She wondered if her mum was talking about herself, about a secret love. “You say strange things, Mum. But I’ll try to understand you,” Anna said, gathering herself to leave the room. “I do hope so…” Vera hugged her daughter warmly. How do you explain to your daughter—or even to yourself—that it doesn’t matter how long you’ve been married—a year, twenty years … How many times you’ve faced hardship together … How many children you share … None of it matters… Suddenly, that person appears. You fall into their life willingly. And you wonder: how did I go half a lifetime without breathing him in? How? Vera stared out the window with a kind of resignation. What next? She couldn’t forget this man. He was real now, and there was no getting away from it. A splinter in her heart. No erasing it; therapy wouldn’t help. This was love… “I’m not to blame. I wasn’t searching. Eddie found me. He won’t let me go. I tried running away from him, many times. I never managed it. His touch gives me chills. It must be fate. So be it.” Vera decided she wouldn’t tell her husband about leaving. She’d pack in secret and move to another city to be with Eddie. There, they’d make a home together. Eddie had been asking her for ages. Their love had grown strong… Perhaps her husband already suspected. For the past six months Vera always kept her phone close—under her pillow at night, in the bathroom, always in her hand… Her husband would figure it out; he was smart… “My daughter did it right. Chose a husband, that’s that. Even if she’d rushed it. No slip-ups, right or left. Iron will. Anna is with her husband like a thread with a needle. Perfect family. Became a mother, poured her soul into her child. He’s not much like me—bit of a handful. But it’s nothing—life will fix things, everything will settle into place.” Vera finally packed her bags for her beloved, forever. But life had other plans. Harsh, irreversible. Like being whipped with nettles. Her husband fell ill, helpless as a child. A stroke. Once, with him, any pain was halved… Now Vera was torn between her lover and her husband. Eddie could only receive her phone calls. There were bitter moments of despair, paralysis. She wanted neither love, nor passion, nor anything… Her life, turned upside down… She felt endless pity for her husband, but couldn’t forget Eddie (her feelings for him only grew). Seeing her mum in agony, Anna spoke: “Mum, I’ll care for Dad. Live your own life…” Vera burst into tears, hugged Anna, breathed out: “Thank you, Annie. You’re wise beyond your years.” That same evening, Vera stood at the train station, waiting for her train. …The meeting with Eddie. Tears of joy, hungry kisses, endless conversations. “Well, hello, my lovely,” Vera threw herself into Eddie’s arms, refusing to let go. “Vera, darling, I’ve waited so long for you,” Eddie kissed her hand passionately. …The night was magical. Bottomless… Shredded by passion, long-awaited reunion, bliss down to the bone, insatiable… The sheets remembered their cries… Where was the sky? Where was the earth? As if for the last time… How desperately she needed this fragile meeting! …Three days later, Vera sat beside her husband’s bedside… Catching tears with a tissue—from her eyes, and from his…

NEITHER WITH YOU, NOR WITHOUT YOU Never make promises. About anything. Youll swear eternal love, and

Uncategorized

An Unexpected Joy At the department in the university, no one among the colleagues would have believed that Valeria Evans’s husband was a hopeless alcoholic. It was her sorrowful secret and bitter burden. …Valeria Evans was a lecturer, a senior lecturer, and head of the department. At work, she was greatly respected as a specialist. Her reputation was impeccable. Everyone thought Valeria had it all, in every sense. How could they not? Her husband often met her at the university gates so they could walk home arm in arm. “Well, Valeria, you are such a lucky woman! Your husband is so distinguished, attentive, well-bred, handsome…” the younger staff members would sigh admiringly. “Oh girls, don’t be jealous!” Valeria would deflect. Only she knew what her ‘gentleman’ became at home. Victor drank himself senseless, staggering in filthy and barely human, unable even to fit the key into the door, falling asleep in the hallway. Valeria dragged him in, covered him with a throw (so he wouldn’t freeze), and retreated to her dissertations—first the PhD, then her doctorate. She always left a jug of water nearby to silence his midnight cries: “Val! Water… Water!” Each morning, she simply stepped over him, went to work, and brought kindness, knowledge, and reason to her students—a cycle that might last a week, a month… And one day, Victor would be waiting again at the university steps, the picture of sobriety, to walk his wife home. Clean, pressed, and smiling. As Valeria exited, surrounded by colleagues, Victor would rush over, peck her cheek, and ask: “How was your day, love?” “All right, Vic. Let’s go home,” Valeria would sigh quietly, as the staff looked on, charmed by this “perfect couple.” “Valeria’s so lucky with her husband…” they’d remark. But inside those doors, Valeria fell silent—her quiet revenge. She knew silence was powerful, and Victor suffered under the weight of her accusing hush, though over the years, he adapted. He’d walk her home, then scuttle off “on business”—to drink again. …Valeria and Victor had been married for twenty-eight years. Their love was once mutual, tender, seemingly everlasting. Then, like down feathers from a pillow, it scattered—impossible to catch or piece together. …Early in their marriage, they struggled to have a child. Valeria fretted, sure a family without children was incomplete. At last, a son was born: Dimitri, the light of her life. Money was tight; Victor left all housework and childcare to Valeria, saving his energy for sneaking drinks. Exhausted, she only caught on to his wrongdoings later; young and naïve, she was too busy to notice. She was stunned the day she found a bottle on the balcony. “Vic? Whose is this?” Valeria asked. “Take a guess,” Victor joked. There were rows. Tears, pleas, threats—the usual script. …Years passed. Victor drifted in and out of jobs, always losing them to his drinking. He offered little hope, but Valeria never divorced—her mother’s words echoing: “Darling, you only marry once! The first husband is from God, the second from the Devil. Even if he’s made of straw, he’s yours. There’s no father dearer to a child.” Valeria dreaded a “Devil’s husband.” She climbed her career ladder, knowing she could rely only on herself. She became oddly used to Victor’s “episodes,” almost pitying him—nothing more. Everything inside her had dried up and died. Her pride was Dimitri. He grew into a catch—finding his first love at fourteen, another at nineteen, and so on. Too fond of romance, he’d bring home a new girlfriend just as she’d gotten used to the last. One girl, Anna, stayed five years. Valeria grew to love her and called her “daughter-in-law.” The family urged a wedding, but Anna just shrugged: “I’m ready. Dima’s the one waiting…” At last, Anna vanished. Dimitri soon introduced Lena, no older than eighteen: “She’ll live with us. We’re in love,” he announced. Valeria protested, demanding Anna back. Offended, Dima and Lena left. For the first time, Valeria realized she truly missed Anna—five years was no small thing. “A player, my son. At least he doesn’t drink…” she consoled herself. A month later, Dima returned—alone. When Valeria asked after his ‘latest love,’ he revealed Anna had two children she kept secret, visiting them whenever she claimed she was at her mother’s. Her ex-husband had told Dima. Valeria defended Anna: “Maybe she still loves you, Dima. Sometimes life just turns out that way. It’s the children who suffer; they just need love.” Dima smiled: “She’s still a good person, Mum.” …A year passed. Victor died of cirrhosis after months of agony, tearfully asking Valeria and Dima’s forgiveness before he went. At the grave, Valeria told her son, “Do you know how many years and nerves your father cost me? For every bottle he drank, I shed a tear. And yet, I’d go through it all again, just to have him back. That’s love for you…” As she wept openly, her son quietly walked her home. At the university, Valeria finally confided, “I’m alone now. Dima has his own busy life—I only wish he’d give me a grandchild. That would make it all easier. How do you go on? Where to find the strength?” …Another year flew by. Valeria retired. She still missed waiting on the steps for Victor—hard to believe the past would never repeat. December’s end brought the usual flurry. Everyone was anticipating a miracle! On New Year’s Eve, Valeria was alone—tree trimmed, salad and mandarins on the table, champagne poured. “Maybe Dima will stop by… perhaps he’s fallen in love again… Will he ever settle down?” The doorbell rang. Valeria started—her son had his own key. She peered out: “My goodness, Anna!” Valeria flung open the door and hugged her unexpected guest. Only then did she spot the tiny girl beside Anna. Flustered, she fetched food and tea. Anna settled the girl to sleep. And looking closely, Valeria suddenly saw… Dima’s face, in miniature. “Well, Anna—what’s brought you here?” “Mrs. Evans—I need to confess something,” Anna began. “I know it all, dear. Dima told me. Out with it…” “She’s your granddaughter,” Anna whispered. “I guessed. Dima’s girl, right? He won’t turn her away. But what now?” “Could she stay here for a while? I’ve reconciled with my husband, but he won’t accept Veronica—says he has his own to raise first. I’m in a fix. Please, help me!” Anna pleaded. “What a New Year’s present you’ve given me,” Valeria mused. “You’re retired now—no time for boredom, I promise! I’ll come often. Her name is Veronica. She’s sixteen months old,” Anna pleaded. …By morning, Anna was gone. On the table: a note. “I love you, Mrs. Evans! Happy New Year! Love to Dima.” Next to it: a bag of Veronica’s things and documents—“Veronica Dimitrievna.” “She takes after the family. Well, Victor is gone—and now Veronica has come,” Valeria said with a sad smile. She kissed her sleeping granddaughter’s forehead. “My unexpected joy!” …Veronica started Year One. She called Valeria “Gran,” and Dima “Dad.” He doted on his daughter Nicky—and still chased his unattainable happiness. Anna never visited again…

UNEXPECTED JOY No one at the department in the college could have guessedor believedthat Valerie Greens

Her Name Was Emily—She Was His Former Colleague. Just Hours Before Our Anniversary Celebration, My Husband Called and Said: “We Need to Talk.”

Her name was Alice, a former colleague of his. Just hours before our anniversary meal, my husband rang

Uncategorized

Surrendering to Love – “Katie, think it over! Your boyfriend is eighteen and you’re twenty-six! What a perfect couple! What could he possibly offer you? Nothing but endless problems. Your colleagues will laugh at you—teacher falls for her student; that’s unheard of! Quit your job at that school before it’s too late, or they’ll sack you for being immoral,” my mum vividly described the situation. And yet I felt like howling. Somehow, Igor and I had fallen in love. Yes, he was much younger and my student. But in a year he’d finish school and we’d marry. The age gap wouldn’t be so obvious then. I just had to wait. I couldn’t bear to part with him—Igor was my first love. Mum may have exaggerated when she said everyone knew; we were seeing each other secretly. Still, I realised that this “juicy” news would spread through the whole school—everyone would find out. I couldn’t control myself, I melted in his arms, and hung on his every glance. I knew I was setting a bad example. As a teacher, I should be sowing wisdom and goodness. …My mum, also a teacher, couldn’t understand my choice. I regretted sharing my anxious happiness with her; I found no support. How many times did I break up with Igor in my head? Too many to count. But the moment I saw him, my heart skipped—a hopeless, overwhelming love! With Igor, I felt like a giddy schoolgirl. He was a top student, athletic, level-headed, with girls chasing after him everywhere. I felt joyful—and anxious, too. …The last bell rang; Igor entered university. And I… found out I was pregnant. Mum noticed the change and sniped, “Well, what now? Will you get rid of the fruit of your love? Should’ve listened to me!” “No, I won’t,” I said. …Our daughter, Sophie, was born. Igor was in no rush to marry me. His studies came first, and gradually he drifted away—he avoided me, “forgot” to call, focused on university and his new female friends. We broke up. I crashed back to earth, left alone with my daughter. And I could tell no one I’d had an affair with a student—the ridicule and judgment would be too much. My soul was numb. Seeing my state, Mum comforted me: “I feel things aren’t right with Igor. But even in ashes, sparks can remain. Everything can work out.” Years passed, two of them. I met Alex, the “man with the dog,” in the park where I pushed the pram and he walked his dachshund, Honey. He was lovely, warm, and funny—a whole new light. We fell in love. Sophie and Honey kept Mum company while we went out to the cinema and cafés. Mum beamed: “Go, enjoy yourselves. I’m happy to babysit.” …In time, Sophie and I moved in with Alex. It was calm and peaceful, no emotional turmoil. One day Mum called, flustered, “Sophie’s father came. He shouted in the stairwell, demanding to see you. I gave him your address. See what your precious pupil turned into?”, “Don’t worry, Mum—we’ll sort it,” I said, nerves tingling. Why had Igor resurfaced now? Soon Igor arrived: “Hello, Katie. I see you’re doing well. You’ve got a husband raising my child—what gives you that right?” “Igor, where’s it written that Sophie is your daughter? You gave her up. What’s your complaint?” He softened, “Katie, maybe we could get back together? We once loved each other.” “I remembered for a long time—but Alex helped me forget you. Thanks for the love lesson. You lost me, you won’t get me back. Goodbye,” I said, shutting the door. Alex came home and asked what was wrong. I told him about Igor’s visit. “Nonsense. Don’t worry. Maybe he just got nostalgic. Let’s have dinner,” he smiled, pulling me to the kitchen. “Husband? But my passport’s blank!” I teased. “Katie, will you marry me?” Alex, on one knee, asked softly. “Scared my ex would steal me?” “Terrified. Well, do you agree?” “I’ll think about it,” I winked, knowing he would always look after me. …We married that summer; Alex adopted Sophie. A year later, our son Max was born and we had our cosy family nest. Igor never bothered us again. I heard he married a classmate, who soon left him with their three-month-old—ran off with an army officer. …Years have flown by. Alex and I have touches of grey. Sophie married a foreigner and now lives in Italy, taking Honey’s descendant with her: “At least one family member to keep me company far from home.” Now our only worry is Max, who at twenty-two is besotted with his literature lecturer—a married woman with two daughters. What do I say? Remembering myself, I know I can’t talk him out of it. Everyone learns from their own mistakes. “Max, decide for yourself. Just please, don’t hurt this woman. Don’t make a mockery of her. Be a man. Think carefully before you act,” was all I could say. “Mum, you and Dad are the best examples I could wish for. Thank you for not lecturing me,” he said, kissing my cheek. …There was no big wedding. Lecturer Marina and Max registered their marriage at the town hall, and their daughter Zoë was born in due time. When it comes to love, there’s just no escaping…

SUBMITTING TO LOVE Victoria, have you lost your mind? Your boyfriend is eighteen, and youre twenty-six!

Uncategorized

My Sorrow, My Joy: The Turbulent Love Story of Anna and Edward—From Childhood Sweethearts to the Endless Cycle of Addiction, Heartbreak, and Redemption in a Modern British Marriage

MY TROUBLE, MY JOY Anna, how long are you going to keep drinking? Im tired of saving you. What must I

Uncategorized

Button Rescue at the Crossroads: How a Stray Dog Named Button Led Sergei Out of Loneliness and Into a Brighter Life, One Ordinary Snowy Night at a London Junction

Button Rescue at the Crossroads The snow tonight isnt festivejust sticky, dull, hindering every step

Uncategorized

JUST KEEP BREATHING… “Oh, for goodness’ sake… Where on earth did you find her? She must weigh fifteen stone! I just don’t get you, Oleg. She’s a right lump, not to put too fine a point on it. What do you even see in her? Mum, can you please talk some sense into him?” – Lena protested relentlessly. “Oh, let it be, Lena, calm down. It’s your brother’s choice. Oleg’s the one who has to live with her, so let him figure things out with his fiancée,” replied Mrs. Anna, glancing at her son. “Feel better? Right then. I’m marrying Tanya. In fact, she’s having our baby this autumn. End of discussion, ladies,” Oleg declared and left the room. …Oleg had been married once before, to a real beauty, with whom he had a daughter. He loved his wife deeply, but apparently didn’t fit in with her family. His mother-in-law did everything she could to destroy the relationship, and Oleg eventually had to leave. He spiralled—drinking heavily, getting into fights, jumping from woman to woman… …That’s when Tanya appeared, quite unexpectedly. They met through friends, and Tanya immediately noticed Oleg—handsome, tall, charming, with a sparkling sense of humour. No one could make Tanya laugh as quickly as Oleg. Tanya taught algebra at the local secondary school and still lived at home with her parents. She was twenty-four the year she met Oleg. It happens sometimes: You see someone and fall in love for life. For no particular reason, you just know they are your soulmate, as if you’ve known them forever. Life without them seems impossible. That’s what happened to Tanya. Oleg, that night, barely noticed the unfamiliar girl. For one, he was terribly drunk. For another, Tanya wasn’t remotely his type. And besides, Oleg had sworn off marriage for good. “I’m done—never again!” he told his friends. But among their group was Emma—the very picture of charm. Oleg struck up a lively conversation with her and managed to slip away from prying eyes to the kitchen. Later, the pair disappeared together into the night. …With Emma, it was a whirlwind. Oleg loved everything about her. She was the sort of girl men turned their heads to watch, sighing as she passed. Oleg introduced Emma to his sister, Lena. “She’s stunning, but she’s not the settling-down type,” Lena remarked. “I know,” Oleg replied. Emma eventually left Oleg for someone else. He wasn’t heartbroken; he knew she was never really meant for him. He let her go, with no regrets. …Tanya’s chance had come at last. Oleg was free, so she made her move. She invited him out—he hesitated, but agreed. Tanya brought Oleg home, introduced him to her parents, who immediately took a shine to him. And so it began. Oleg was showered with care and attention twenty-four seven. Tanya fluttered around him like a butterfly. She fulfilled Oleg’s every whim, instantly. After six months, Oleg decided it was time to tell his mother and sister about his fiancée Tanya. “Do you really love her, Oleg?” his mother asked. “No. I loved once—mum, you know that. But it hurt too much. It’s enough for me that Tanya loves me with all her heart,” Oleg replied, thoughtful. “It’ll be hard, son—living under the same roof with a woman you don’t love. Will you ever get used to it?” Anna dabbed away her tears. “We’ll see,” Oleg said evasively. …The wedding came and went, celebrated at Tanya’s family home. “Live well, love each other, and if you ever argue, make up straightaway!” Tanya’s mother wished them. …But their arguments persisted and never really resolved. Oleg began drinking again, eventually returning to his parents’ home. Anna just shook her head in silence. Tanya rushed after him the same day. “Oleg, what are you playing at? Come home. I’ll never let you go.” He came back. …Their son was born. The days were full, a whirlwind of family life. Oleg grew more and more attached to this warm household. Tanya’s parents loved him as a son. He always got the choicest bit at table. When he came home from work, everyone tiptoed around so he could rest. They spoiled him with gifts… Oleg never said a bad word about Tanya’s parents, always showed them respect. He took on all the housework, only ever called his wife “Tanyushka.” He adored his son. …Twenty-five years of marriage passed in a flash… Tanya’s parents grew old and often fell ill, spending endless days at the doctor’s. “Oleg, love, maybe you should have a check-up yourself for once?” Tanya suggested. “If you say so, Tanyushka,” he replied. …But there was always one odd job or another—fixing the fence, repairing the house, tending the garden. He was always in a hurry… …Then the ambulance arrived. “There’s nothing we can do—sudden death.” The ground dropped away. Tanya collapsed. The paramedics revived her. “How can it be? Oleg only just had a full check-up—they said he was perfectly healthy! And now this—he’s gone, just like that? I don’t believe it!” Tanya cried out. The elderly parents sat aside, bewildered. “We’re the old ones—we were supposed to go first! Why such unfairness?” Tanya’s mother sobbed. “Oleg! You are my life! Just keep breathing…!” Tanya threw herself onto her husband’s still body. …The funeral was held. …Two months later, Tanya’s father died. Shortly before his death, he murmured, “Oleg, take me with you…” A month after that, Tanya’s mother passed away. …Half a year later, Tanya sold the house. She couldn’t bear to stay. She bought a little flat, helped her son settle and start a family. …Widowed for seven years, she confessed to Oleg’s sister: “Lena, you couldn’t find a husband like Oleg anywhere… Losing him was pure hell. I couldn’t protect him…” She told her son, “Promise me, bury me next to your father.” How sharp and bitter it is without the one you love… And time doesn’t heal, Lena, believe me…

JUST KEEP BREATHING Oh, Lord Where did you even find her? She must weigh sixteen stone! I just dont get

My Mother Blamed Me for Not Helping Care for My Sick Brother—So After School, I Packed My Bags and Ran Away

My mothers constant criticism about not helping enough with my ill brother finally drove me to run away

Uncategorized

THE BARREN BLOOM: Kira’s husband, a gynaecologist at the local maternity hospital, longed for a child as much as she did, but after years of failed treatments, exotic health trips, and calling in specialist friends, nothing changed—Kira remained childless. Five years passed, and then came troubling signs: late nights at work, odd jokes, and the hurtful nickname ‘barren bloom.’ Kira suspected an affair with his new nurse, the ever-present, perfume-scented Vicky. A confrontation at his office only confirmed her worst fears. Bereft and alone as her husband left to start a family elsewhere, Kira tried to come to terms with her infertility. Barred from adoption, and unable to find peace as a nun, she found hope again after meeting Sasha at the theatre. He loved her unconditionally—‘In sickness and in health, I’ll stay by you, Kira’—and, against all odds, they were blessed with three children. Years on, now a blissful mother and happy wife, Kira crosses paths with her ex-husband. The reunion brings an unexpected revelation: Vicky’s daughter was not his, and after learning of his own infertility, Kira’s ex finds happiness raising another woman’s child as his own. In the end, the pain of ‘the barren bloom’ makes way for hope, unexpected family, and the healing power of love.

THE EMPTY BLOOM Once, in the quiet town of Bath, there lived a woman called Claire whose husband, Edward

Uncategorized

What Goes Around, Comes Around: Larissa’s Confession About Lost Love, Consequences, and a Hopeful New Beginning

WHAT GOES AROUND, COMES AROUND Helen sat by her bay window, leafing distractedly through her favourite