I'd been engaged to Ivan since we were kids.

When he went off to the military, I stayed behind—ten years of caring for his paralyzed mom, putting my whole life on pause.

By the time he came back, I was at the age where most women were settling down.

And he showed up with someone else.

Ivan laid it out, stone cold:

"Nadia's my comrade's widow. If you want to marry me, you'll have to accept her too. Most of my pay goes to her. I promised I'd take care of her. She gets first pick of everything in the house. Don't like it? Then forget about getting married."

I looked past him. Nadia stood there, tears dripping down her cheeks, playing the poor little victim.

Right then, I ended it.

No drama. No regrets.

Signed up for the Rural Teaching Support Program the same day.

Left love behind.

Threw everything I had into teaching.

Drovetsk, the hometown.

I looked up. Ivan Brown, all decked out in his uniform, oozed smug. So not the awkward kid I remembered.

He stepped in front of Nadia Kollar like her personal bodyguard. She hid behind him, all pale and pathetic with those downturned eyes.

Next to her, I looked like a wreck. No contest—she was prettier.

They fit. Too well. Just looking at them hurt.

My hands, raw and bleeding from the cold, curled into fists. I swallowed the sting.

"Then I'm done. Engagement's off."

Olenna snapped, "Don't be ridiculous! Ivan misspoke. Go make dinner. I'll handle him."

My brain short-circuited. I just turned and walked to the kitchen.

Ivan and I had been locked in since forever. Childhood sweethearts, stuck like glue.

Then my dad died in the line of duty when I was fifteen. Mom couldn't handle it—she remarried and bailed. I was on my own.

Ivan's family took me in. I owed them, so when Olenna got paralyzed, I stepped up.

I even gave him the military spot, which was the compensation from the troops for my father's death.

Right before he left, he squeezed my hand and said, "Elya, I'll come back for you. We'll get married once I've made it."

I believed him. Stupidly.

Ten years of taking care of Olenna, running the house—everything—for him.

I thought I was working toward a happy ending.

All I got was a slap in the face.

Tears hit the veggies as I chopped, splintering like glass.

I stared at my cracked, frozen hands.

'Is it 'cause I'm not pretty enough?'

***

No vinegar in the kitchen, so I headed to my room for some cash.

Walking past Olenna's door, I heard her say, half-scolding, "Why did you say that? What if Elya leaves?"

I froze, hand on the doorknob.

"She'd leave?" Ivan scoffed. "Please. She's a washed-up old maid. Who's gonna want her after she's been stuck in our house this long?"

His words hit like a punch to the chest.

"True," Olenna sighed. "You've got a decent gig now. Marrying her would be charity."

The cold shot through me—deeper than any snow ever could.

I thought ten years of taking care of Olenna had to mean something.

Figured she'd at least fake having my back.

But this? This is what they really thought of me.

My chest tightened like something heavy was sitting on it. I couldn't breathe.

For the first time, I didn't know what came next.

Was I really still planning to marry Ivan?

A guy who didn't love me—who thought I was beneath him?

At dinner, Nadia cozied up next to Olenna, the two of them chatting like BFFs.

Ivan couldn't stop staring at her.

Olenna held her hand, practically glowing.

"Such a sweet girl. I feel so close to you."

The second Nadia showed up, Olenna dropped cash on a gold ring for her—no hesitation.

Word was, Nadia's family still lived in the city. Good background, decent status.

"I feel super close to you too," Nadia said, all smiles. "Like we're already family."

Olenna lit up even more.

Yeah, Nadia was a widow, but she looked like someone you'd brag about.

So when Nadia wrinkled her nose at the food I made, Olenna didn't miss a beat.

"Barley bread? Really? We've got a guest. You should know better. Make something else."

Her tone was sharp, like she was barking orders at the help.

I looked down, hiding the sting in my eyes.

"There's no money left. And no other food."

Ivan jumped in, "Then go buy sausages. Stop acting like we're broke. I've been sending money—unless you've been skimming?"

Olenna's face twitched. She glanced at me, eyes darting.

Truth? His money barely covered her meds. The rest? Came from me hustling two jobs—my day gig and anything else I could scrape together.

That meat spread he was enjoying? I earned it pulling back-to-back night shifts. Just to welcome him home.

Ivan dropped his spoon and shot me a glare.

"Are you messing with us? Go find someone to trade some. Nadia can't eat this trash."

***

I took a deep breath, grabbed a chunk of barley bread, and shoved it in my mouth.

"Then trade that yourself. I don't like it either. But I've choked down this 'garbage' for ten years."

I spat out that last word like it burned. Ten years of holding back just exploded.

My eyes stung, but I wasn't about to cry in front of them.

Back when Dad was alive, I ate real meals. I used to have a good life.

Guilt flickered across Ivan's face. His mouth opened like he wanted to speak.

But Nadia swooped in with her soft, sweet voice.

"Oh Ivan, I didn't mean anything. Don't blame Elya."

She tugged on his sleeve like she was all gentle and caring, then gave me this fake little sorry smile.

"Elya, don't take it personally. Ivan just gets upset when I'm upset."

I let out a cold laugh and ignored Nadia's fake sweetness.

The barley bread was dry as sawdust, but I kept eating, like every bite proved a point.

Ivan, I'm done. I'm not marrying you.

If Dad could see me now, he'd lose it.

I swallowed the last bite and stood.

Olenna blinked, confused.

"Elya, where are you going? No one's done eating. The dishes aren't cleaned."

"I'm full. Going to rest."

"Rest? From what?"

She kept going, like always.

"After the dishes, heat water and help me wash up. I'm not feeling well. And tonight, sleep on the floor. Let Nadia have your bed."

I stared at her, like I didn't even know her anymore.

I'd treated her like my own mom. But to her? I was just the help.

"Why should I?"

Olenna froze, totally thrown off.

She scowled. "What kind of tone is that? I'm your mother-in-law!"

I kept my face blank.

"I'm not married to Ivan. You're nothing to me. And even if I were, I'd be your daughter-in-law—not your maid."

Ivan finally snapped.

"Elya Lovren! Have you lost it? If my mom tells you to do something, you do it! You eat our food, live in our house—who do you think you are, talking to us like that?"

I stared him down, zero fear in my eyes.

"Let's get something straight. This house? Rebuilt with my dad's death benefits. I make my own money. I've taken care of your mom for ten years. I don't need praise—but I deserve respect. This is how you thank me?"

He didn't have a comeback. Still had a sliver of shame left.

I turned, walked back to my room, pulled out the application form, and filled it in—slow and steady.

Mr. Randall, the village head, had stopped by recently pushing the Rural Teaching Support Program.

The first batch of teachers would get solid government support.

Back then, I only took the form to be polite.

Now? It felt like my ticket out.

***

Just as I finished the form, someone knocked.

Ivan. Holding a steaming bowl of buckwheat with egg.

I blinked, caught off guard. My face softened before I could stop it.

Maybe... maybe he still cared.

A flicker of hope sparked—unwanted, but there.

I reached for the bowl.

He yanked it back.

"What are you doing? It's for Nadia."

Then, like twisting a knife into my heart, he kept grumbling.

"You were way outta line today. I get that you're jealous, but don't talk to my mom like that again. And quit giving Nadia attitude. You scared her."

His words hit like an ice bath. That tiny hope? Gone.

I stared at him, blank.

"I don't think I did anything wrong. I'm serious about breaking off the engagement."

His face darkened.

"Cut the crap. What'll people say about me?"

Yeah. People would talk. And if I stuck around, I'd be the one they'd drag.

He paused, then tried to soften it.

"I got a supervisor gig at the state-run steel plant. Once we're married, you can chill. Let Nadia take your teaching job—she's got a degree, it fits better."

My chest clenched.

I'd gotten into college years ago.

But then he called from the military, practically begging.

"Elya, what about my mom if you leave? Please, wait for me. I'll treat you right."

Now he was back, all dressed for success—with another girl in tow.

And on top of that, he wanted me to give her my job?

I took a deep breath, swallowing the fury and heartbreak.

"No. If she's so capable, she can get her own job."

His tone sharpened.

"Elya! Nadia's been through a lot. I promised my comrade I'd take care of her—"

"So you'll throw me under the bus to play hero?" I cut in. "Ivan, I owe nothing to your buddy's widow. But you? You promised to take care of me. Have you?"

Guilt flickered in his eyes.

I didn't wait for more. Just slammed the door in his face.

***

Early the next morning, I threw my things together fast.

On my way out, I caught Ivan in the living room, gently dabbing ointment on Nadia's arms.

"I'll pick some wormwood and mugwort later," he said softly. "Sorry you had to share a bed with my mom. Country mosquitoes are the worst."

Nadia scrunched her nose.

"Does your new job come with housing? I really don't wanna stay out here. Too many bugs—I'm covered in bites."

He didn't even pause.

"I'll apply in a few days. Then I'll bring you to the city."

I stood in the doorway, stomach twisting.

When he spotted my bag, his voice snapped.

"You're not making breakfast? Where do you think you're going?"