They thought I wasn’t at home.
‘Katya mustn’t suspect anything! Be careful, darling,’ my mother-in-law Elena whispered to my husband Andrei. Her voice was quiet, conspiratorial.
I froze in place in the corridor, clutching my bag in my hand. I had come home earlier than planned – my doctor’s appointment was shorter. To avoid waking the neighbour’s noisy dog, I went in through the back door. Their whispers sent shivers down my spine.
What were they hiding from me?
I had enough to worry about as it was. For six gruelling months I’d been fighting cancer, undergoing chemotherapy that left me exhausted. Every night, when I fell asleep, I prayed that I would wake up and see my son Maxim’s smile again. And now that Andrei and Elena were hiding something from me, it felt like a betrayal.
For a moment I thought about finding out right away. But I changed my mind. Instead, I pretended I hadn’t heard, smiled, and walked into the living room.
Hi,’ I said.
Andrei looked at me with a soft smile, but the tension in his shoulders didn’t escape my gaze. Elena, pretending to do a crossword puzzle, barely looked up.
Hello, darling. How did it go? – Andrei asked as if casually.
It was fine,’ I replied, heading for the kitchen. – I think I’ll heat up some soup while I still have an appetite.
But nothing was fine. They were hiding something, and I was determined to find out what.
Later, while taking out the rubbish, I noticed a piece of paper peeking out of the bag. Normally I don’t pay attention to such things, but the large heading caught my eye: A CONTRACT OF SALE OF PROPERTY.
Curiosity got the best of me. I pulled out the pieces of paper and began to put them together like a jigsaw puzzle. The document mentioned an address just a few kilometres away and a date: tomorrow.
What are they planning?
That same evening, I showed Andrei the scraps I had found.
What are these? – I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
He glanced at the torn document and frowned.
Why were you going through the rubbish, Katya? You’re not allowed to do that, your immunity….
Don’t avoid answering, Andrei!’ I interrupted. – What were those papers? Why were they in the rubbish?
He tensed up.
You’re too suspicious lately…
Suspicious? Really? Was he trying to turn the tables on me? I was too tired to argue, but I decided not to let it go.
The next morning, I went to the address on the document. My heart was racing and my thoughts were confused. What could it be? A new house? Their plans in case… if I was gone?
When I reached the place, what I saw took me by surprise. It wasn’t a house. It was a small commercial space on the ground floor of a cosy two-storey building. Workers were just installing a sign over the door:
OPENING SOON: BAKERY. KATYA’S DREAM.
My breath caught. What?
Leaning my palms against the glass, I looked inside. The space was stunning: pastel-coloured walls, garlands of lights, shelves in the same shade of blue I’d always loved. In the corner was a new copper coffee machine, just like the one I’d once shown Andrei in a magazine.
It seemed unreal.
When I got home, I couldn’t contain my emotions.
Andrei,’ I said, my voice trembling. – I know about the bakery. Why didn’t you say anything?
His eyes widened.
Did you see it?
Yes! Why didn’t you tell me? Why is my name on the sign?
He stepped closer, took my hands in his.
Katya, it was supposed to be a surprise. Mum and I were going to take you there tomorrow to sign the papers. The bakery is yours. All yours.
What? My voice broke.
It was Mum’s idea,’ he continued, his voice shaking. – She remembered how you dreamed of opening a bakery like your grandparents. She invested her savings, her retirement money, to make it happen. I helped in any way I could.
Tears filled my eyes.
I thought… I thought you were preparing to live without me.
Katya, no,’ he said, pulling me close to him. – We love you. We just wanted to give you hope. A future.
A month later, on opening day, the queue lined the entire street. The story of the bakery – and my story – went viral thanks to a local journalist. Inside, it smelled of apple pies and cinnamon buns. Elena, like an experienced salesperson, was manning the cash register, Andrei was delivering pastries, and Maxim was happily shouting out the news that everything was sold out.
For the first time in a long time I didn’t think about chemotherapy, or fatigue, or fear. I felt alive. I felt hopeful.
And then the phone rang.
Katya, – came the voice of my doctor’s assistant. – Dr Lebedev wants to see you as soon as possible. It’s about your latest analyses.
The next day I sat in the doctor’s office, preparing myself for any news. Dr Lebedev smiled as he walked into the office.
Katya, you don’t have cancer anymore,’ he said.
What?’ I breathed out.
The chemotherapy worked. You’re in remission.
I sat there in shock, feeling a wave of joy wash over me.
Back at the bakery, I gathered everyone together.
I have news,’ I said, barely holding back a smile.
Andrei frowned.
What’s wrong?
Everything’s fine. More than fine. I’m healthy.
The room froze, and then exploded with shouts of joy. Elena hugged me tightly, her face wet with tears. Andrei whispered:
You’re here. You’re really here.
And I was here. Ready to live. Ready to love. Ready to fulfil my dream.
