The wealthy man was sobbing by the gravestone of his mother, whom he hadn’t visited for many years. Suddenly, he heard the plea of a small child.

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Matvey slammed on the brakes sharply, as if something had jolted him awake. How many times had he planned to come here — neither during his mother’s lifetime nor after her passing had he found the time. Always busy, important, he now found himself repulsive. It even became unpleasant to remember what he had been like.

It turned out he needed a powerful shock — one that would painfully shake his soul, make him realize: this whole world he had built around himself was just a mirage. Not a single word, not a single act there carried any weight, meant nothing.

The irony of fate: he was even grateful to Natasha — his ex-wife — for destroying that glass castle. In an instant, everything crumbled to dust. The perfect family everyone thought was real turned out to be fake. What feelings, what promises — in reality, emptiness.

 

His wife and his best friend… And the circle of “friends” who knew everything but chose to stay silent. It was not just a collapse — it was the death of an entire world. It turned out that everyone close to him was a traitor.

Right after the divorce, Matvey got into his car and headed to his hometown. Eight years had passed since he buried his mother. In all that time, he had never visited her grave. Hadn’t even tried. Only now did he understand: his mother was the only person who would never have betrayed him.

He married late — he was thirty-three, Natasha twenty-five. He was proud of her: beautiful, statuesque, always “on the go.” Later she shouted in his face that she hated every minute of their life together, that going to bed with him was torture. Back then, he didn’t realize how much he had missed, how long he had lived in an illusion.

Her twisted face, full of malice, looked more like a mask. But not long before, she had cried so sincerely, begged forgiveness, said she was always alone. But when he declared it was over, Natasha dropped her last masks and showed her true face.

Matvey got out of the car, carrying a huge bouquet of flowers, and slowly walked along the cemetery path. He was sure everything here had long since overgrown. After all, he hadn’t even come when the monument was installed — everything was arranged online, without any extra effort. Now he understood: you could live your whole life without noticing how it slipped by.

But to his surprise, the grave was neat, clean, without a hint of neglect. It seemed someone regularly cared for it. Perhaps his mother’s friends or those who remembered her. And the son?.. The son never found the time.

Opening the creaky gate, Matvey whispered:

— Hello, Mommy…

His throat tightened, his eyes stung, his voice betrayed a tremble.

Tears ran down his cheeks — hot, frequent. He, a successful businessman, a man with cold calculation in his eyes, a man who had long forgotten what sadness was, sobbed like a child. And he didn’t want to stop. Those tears seemed to wash away all the pain, all the resentment, everything connected with Natasha and other disappointments. As if his mother sat beside him, stroking his head and quietly coaxing:

— Come on, son, everything will be alright, you’ll see.

He sat silently for a long time, but inside words to his mother poured out. He remembered how he fell, how he cried, and she rubbed his knees with iodine and whispered:

— It’s okay, son, it’ll heal before the wedding.

And indeed, it healed. Then she added:

— You get used to everything, you can get used to anything. Only betrayal — you cannot.

Now he understood every word. Before, they seemed simple, ordinary, but now they sounded like the wisdom of a great person. She raised him alone, without a father, but did not spoil him — taught him to be strong.

Of course, he paid the neighbor to watch the house. But how long can it stay empty?

Smiling, he recalled how he met the neighbor — with her daughter Nina. Back then he was in a bad place, struggling, and Nina was there — caring, attentive. They talked in the evening, and everything somehow happened by itself. He left quietly, leaving a note where to put the key.

From the outside, he probably looked like he had used her. But he promised nothing, and she agreed. She had just divorced a tyrant husband and told him her story. Both had it hard — and they found each other.

— Mister, — a child’s voice sounded, — may I ask you for help?

He turned sharply. In front of him stood a girl about seven or eight years old, holding a bucket.

— I need to bring water to water the flowers. Mom and I planted them recently, but today she got sick. It’s so hot, they’ll die. There’s water nearby, but I can’t carry a full bucket. I don’t want mom to know I came alone. If I carry a little at a time, she won’t guess.

Matvey smiled sincerely.

— Of course, I’ll help. Show me where to go.

 

The girl ran ahead, chattering nonstop. After a couple of minutes, Matvey already knew that mom didn’t listen to advice, that you shouldn’t drink cold water in the heat, that now she had a fever. That they came to grandmother, who died a year ago. That mom would have gotten a scolding from grandmother. And that the girl studied excellently at school and would definitely graduate with a medal.

With every word, Matvey felt lighter. Children are a special light. He thought how good it would be to have an ordinary family, where you are loved and awaited.

But Natasha was like a doll — beautiful but soulless. She hated children. She herself said:

— You have to be a fool to lose your beauty for a child.

Five years of marriage — and not one good memory. Only emptiness.

He put down the bucket, and the girl, named Masha, carefully began watering the flowers. Matvey looked at the monument and froze — on the photo looking at him was the neighbor, Nina’s mother. He shifted his gaze to Masha.

— Was Zoya Petrovna your grandmother?

— Yes. Did you know her? Although why am I asking — you were at Grandma Anya’s. Mom and I always clean there and bring flowers.

— You and your mom?

— Of course! Mom doesn’t let me go to the cemetery alone — it’s dangerous.

Masha looked around, satisfied, put the bucket away.

— I’ll run off, or mom will start worrying.

— Wait, — Matvey called, — I’ll give you a ride.

— No, — she answered, — mom is sick.

Masha ran off, and Matvey returned to his mother’s grave. Something was strange. He thought Nina temporarily lived with his mother, but it turns out — she’s here, and she has a daughter. At that time he didn’t even know if she had a child.

He didn’t know how old Masha was. Maybe Nina married, had a child, then returned to her mother, staying alone. He was in such a state that he didn’t ask questions.

After sitting a little, Matvey got up. Most likely now Nina was taking care of his mother’s house. He didn’t care who he paid, as long as the house didn’t stay empty.

Arriving at his mother’s house, Matvey felt his heart tighten. The house was the same. It seemed like any moment his mother would come out on the porch, wipe her tears with an apron, and hug him tightly. He didn’t get out of the car for a long time, but his mother did not come out.

Finally, he went into the yard. Clean, tidy, with flowers. Good job, Nina. He would have to thank her. The house also shone — as if the owners had just stepped out for a while. Matvey sat at the table but couldn’t stay still — he needed to settle things with the neighbor.

The door opened. Masha appeared.

— Oh, it’s you! Just don’t tell mom we met at the cemetery, okay?

Matvey showed that he would keep silent forever, and Masha laughed.

— Come in, just don’t go near mom — she has a fever.

He entered — and saw Nina. She lay on the couch, and fear flashed in her eyes when she saw him.

— You? — she exclaimed in surprise.

Matvey smiled.

— Hi, — he said, glancing around. There were no men’s things in the house, and it seemed there hadn’t been for a long time.

— Matvey… — Nina tried to sit up. — I didn’t tell you about your mother’s death. There’s almost no work in the city; I took care of the house myself.

— My condolences, Nina, — he said softly. — And about the house — thank you so much. When you come in, it’s like mom just stepped out for a moment.

— Are you staying long?

— For a couple of days.

— Will you sell the house?

He shrugged.

— Haven’t thought about it yet.

— Here, — he put a thick stack of money on the table, — for good care. Like a thank-you.

— Thank you, Uncle Matvey! — a small voice said suddenly. It was Masha, who appeared nearby. — Mom has wanted a new dress for a long time, and I dreamed of a bicycle!

Matvey laughed.

— Smart girl, Masha. Just like me in my youth — money never flew past me.

In the evening, Matvey realized he had fallen ill — probably caught it from Nina. His temperature rose, his head was splitting. He found the thermometer in the old place where his mother always kept it, measured his temperature, and realized: urgent action was needed. What exactly — he had no idea. He forgot everything he once knew. So he texted the neighbor — but he already knew Nina would answer.

“What do you take for a high fever?”

In ten minutes they were both at his place.

— God, — Nina exclaimed, seeing his condition. — Why did you even come into the house? I infected you…

— You’re sick, why should I run to you?

— Come on, I’m already better, — she muttered, coming closer.

Nina handed him pills, and Masha brought hot tea.

— She’ll burn herself, — Matvey said worriedly.

— Who, Mashka? — Nina laughed. — You won’t get the chance. She’s handy with everything.

Matvey smiled, looking at the girl, and suddenly something clicked in his head. “Just like me.”

And then — as if struck by electricity: he sat up sharply.

— Nin… — his voice changed completely.

She looked at him anxiously.

— What happened?

— When… — he began slowly, — when was Masha born?

Nina suddenly went pale, heavily sank into a chair.

— Why do you want to know? — she whispered.

Then she decisively turned to her daughter:

— Mashenka, run to the store, buy lemons and something to drink, okay?

— Okay, mom! — Masha immediately grabbed the money and ran out.

Nina gathered her thoughts, her voice became firm and even:

— Matvey, let’s agree right away: Masha has nothing to do with you. Not the slightest. We don’t need anything, we have everything. Just forget it.

— What are you saying, Nin? — Matvey stood up sharply. — What do you mean ‘forget’? Is it true? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you call?

— Matvey, — Nina looked him straight in the eyes, — I decided to give birth on my own. You didn’t participate in this. And I wasn’t going to tell you — didn’t think you would show up here. And especially didn’t think you’d be interested.

Matvey stood like a statue. His world had just turned upside down. All these years he lived some fake, showy life, and the real, true happiness — here it was, in front of him, in the face of this girl and the woman who raised him.

— Nin… — his voice softened. — Please don’t think like that. I don’t even know what to do yet.

That night he dreamed of his mother. She smiled and said she always dreamed of a granddaughter like Masha.

Three days later Matvey was getting ready to leave. Nina sat at the table, listening silently.

 

— So, — he said. — I’ll sort out some things in the city and come back. In a week or a little later. But I’ll come back. To take you back. — He looked into her eyes. — I promise if you don’t want to, I won’t tell Masha anything. But I’ll help you with everything. Tell me, is there even a chance? A chance for a family? For happiness?

She hesitated, shrugged, and wiped a tear.

— I don’t know, Matvey…

He returned three weeks later — a long time. He stopped the car not at his own house, but at Nina’s house. With big bags and gifts for Masha and Nina, he entered the house.

— Hello, — he said, feeling nervous.

Nina sat sewing, looked up, and weakly smiled.

— You came.

— I told you I’d come back, — Matvey smiled widely. — Where is Masha?

Masha came out of the room, still sleepy.

— Hello, Uncle Matvey, — she said.

Nina stood.

— Matvey, — her voice was firm and decisive, — I thought it over.

She took Masha by the hand.

— Mashenka, — she said, — I want you to meet your father.

Matvey dropped the bags on the floor. His hands were trembling.

— Thank you, — he whispered.

A week later, they left together. Both houses were put up for sale — they decided to start life anew. Masha still could not fully realize that she now called Matvey “dad,” often reverting to “Uncle Matvey.” He just laughed, hugged them both, and believed with all his soul — now everything would be exactly as it should have been.