A Decade of Torment
For ten years, Maxim had been haunted by a single moment—the night he lost Valentina forever. The same nightmare visited him again and again, tormenting him with her last words:
“You only evoke hatred in me! I curse the moment of our meeting! Stay away from me!”
He would wake up drenched in cold sweat, heart pounding as if trying to break free from his chest. It was as though time had frozen in that moment, refusing to let him move forward. No matter how much success he had achieved, no matter how far he traveled, he could not escape the past. The image of Valentina—her soft brown eyes filled with betrayal and pain—was burned into his soul.
He had never stopped loving her. Even after all these years, he could still recall the scent of her hair, the warmth of her touch, the way she used to hum while sewing. She had been his light, his everything. And then, in a single cruel twist of fate, she had vanished from his life without a trace.
At first, he had tried to explain, but Valya had shut him out completely. He had no memory of what had happened that night. One moment, he was meeting with Rita, and the next, he was waking up in his apartment, confused and disoriented. By the time he gathered his thoughts, Valya was already gone.
She had left behind only emptiness.
The Fateful Meeting
One evening, as Maxim returned from a business trip, something unusual caught his eye.
By the roadside, a small makeshift stall displayed an assortment of handcrafted garments. His heart skipped a beat as his gaze landed on one particular item—a coat. Not just any coat. Her coat.
It was unmistakable. Valya had made it herself, every stitch sewn with love and care. He remembered watching her work on it, the way her brows furrowed in concentration, the small smile that played on her lips when she was satisfied with her progress.
This wasn’t a coincidence. It couldn’t be.
Summoning his courage, Maxim approached the young woman tending the stall. As she turned to face him, his breath caught in his throat.
She had Valya’s eyes.
Something deep inside him stirred—a feeling he couldn’t quite name.
“Greetings. Are you selling these clothes?” he asked, his voice betraying his nervousness.
The girl nodded. “Yes, they’re all high quality. My mother made them. They’re practically new.”
Maxim felt a lump rise in his throat. He could barely form words.
“I’ll buy everything. All of it.”
The girl’s brows knitted together in suspicion. “Do you really need them?”
His voice was firm. “Without a doubt, they are very… special.”
She smiled—a smile so familiar that it nearly broke him.
“And where is your mother now?” he asked cautiously.
The girl hesitated before answering, her voice tinged with sadness. “My mother passed away a year ago after a long illness.”
Maxim’s world shattered.
No. No, that can’t be.
For ten years, he had clung to the hope that he would find her again. That one day, he would get the chance to explain, to make things right. But now… now it was too late.
The girl continued, unaware of the storm raging inside him. “My stepfather tried to help her, but the illness was too strong. Medicine couldn’t do anything.”
Maxim could barely breathe. Valya… gone? It wasn’t possible.
“What was your mother’s name?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
The girl gave him a curious look. “Her name was Valya.”
His worst fear was confirmed. The weight of it was unbearable.
“And your stepfather? Who is he?”
“His name is Volodya. He’s a good man. He worked hard to save my mom, but now he has his own health issues. He can’t work anymore.”
Maxim swallowed hard. His mind was racing.
“And your real father?” he forced himself to ask.
The girl shrugged. “I don’t know. Mom never told me.”
The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. This was his daughter. His and Valya’s.
Masha. The name they had chosen together. The name of the child they had dreamed of having.
She was real. She was standing right in front of him.
The Truth Revealed
Maxim knew he couldn’t walk away now. He had already lost Valya, but he couldn’t lose Masha too.
“I’d like to speak with your stepfather.”
The girl hesitated, then nodded. “Alright. But you’re not going to scold him for letting me sell these things, are you? He never wanted me to do it. But we need the money for his treatment.”
Maxim shook his head. “I just want to talk about your mother.”
They arrived at a modest home, where an older man leaned on a crutch, watching them warily.
“Sweetheart, you shouldn’t get into strangers’ cars,” he said gently.
Maxim stepped forward. “You are Volodya?”
The man studied him for a long moment before nodding. “And you must be Maxim.”
Maxim was taken aback. “You know me?”
Volodya sighed. “Valya spoke of you.”
Hearing her name from another person’s lips felt like a knife twisting in his heart.
“She left without giving me a chance to explain,” Maxim said bitterly. “And now… it’s too late.”
Volodya motioned for him to sit. “Tell me your story.”
Maxim did. Every painful detail. How he had woken up with no memory, how Rita had later admitted to drugging him, how he had searched for Valya in vain.
When he finished, Volodya exhaled deeply. “I suspected something like this. Valya never stopped loving you, you know. She just never forgave you.”
The words nearly broke him.
“She never told Masha about me.”
Volodya nodded. “She wanted to protect her from pain.”
Maxim looked at Masha—his daughter.
“I want to take care of her. And I want to help you too. I have the resources. Please, let me do this.”
Volodya studied him carefully before finally nodding. “Alright. She’s your daughter, after all.”
A New Beginning
Later, standing before Valya’s grave, Maxim finally allowed himself to weep.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should have fought harder for you. I should have found you sooner. I never stopped loving you.”
Masha watched him, confusion in her young eyes.
“Daddy? Why is my other daddy crying?”
Maxim turned to her, wiping his tears. “Because I loved your mother more than anything in the world.”
Masha frowned, then suddenly brightened. “Does this mean I have two daddies now?”
A small, broken laugh escaped Maxim’s lips as he looked at Volodya. The older man smiled gently.
“Yes,” Maxim said, pulling her into a hug. “You do.”
For the first time in a decade, Maxim felt hope. He had lost Valya, but through Masha, a piece of her still remained. And this time, he wouldn’t let go.
