Dropped the Deadweight, Hit the Road

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."