Valeriy took one last walk through his restaurant, letting his gaze linger on the empty tables and quiet kitchen. Earlier that day, he had dismissed his staff, and now only a small amount of food remained. He planned to return in a few days, collect whatever was left, and donate it to a shelter.
For five years, his restaurant had thrived. The early days were full of success, with customers filling the seats and business booming. But everything changed a year ago when a fast-food chain opened nearby. At first, Valeriy was certain the trend would fade—surely people wouldn’t abandon quality cuisine for cheap, greasy meals forever. But as time passed, it became clear that fast food wasn’t the real problem. His head chef had been considering leaving for another job and had stopped putting care into his dishes. Customers noticed, and they stopped coming.
Regret gnawed at Valeriy. He hadn’t tasted his own restaurant’s food in ages before adding new dishes to the menu. When he finally did, it was already too late—the dining room was nearly empty. He immediately fired the chef and tried cooking himself, but while his meals were good, they weren’t up to the restaurant’s usual standard.
With no other choice, he made the painful decision to sell the business. He had taken out a loan to open the restaurant, and selling it was the only way to settle his debts. But before finding a buyer, he needed to clean the place up—no one would pay well for a neglected restaurant.
As he stepped into the courtyard, memories flooded back. Just recently, the waitresses would gather here during their breaks, laughing and chatting. He used to hear their cheerful voices from his office window.
A sudden movement caught his eye near the bushes. He walked toward it and heard a hesitant voice.
“Excuse me… hello,” a woman called softly.
She stood cautiously behind the bushes, a small child clinging to her side.
“Why are you hiding here?” Valeriy asked.
The woman sighed, then spoke in a weary tone.
“I’m sorry… we didn’t know the restaurant had closed. The girls here used to bring us food sometimes. We’ll leave.”
She turned to go, but Valeriy stopped her.
“Wait. Do you have somewhere to stay?”
She gave him a faint smile.
“Yes, but it’s temporary. I’ll figure something out.”
He hesitated, observing her. She didn’t look like someone who lived on the streets—there was something in her eyes, a quiet pain. He chose not to pry.
“Who helped you?” he asked instead.
“Are you going to punish them?” she asked warily.
“Of course not,” he reassured her. “Was it Tamara, Olya, and Sveta?”
The woman nodded.
“Can you clean?” he asked.
She seemed surprised by the question but answered, “I suppose anyone can clean.”
“Come inside,” he offered, gesturing toward the restaurant. “See for yourself—this place is a mess. If you’d like, you can stay here and gradually clean it up. There’s plenty of food left to last you a while.”
“We can stay here? And cook?” she asked, disbelief in her voice.
“Yes, as long as it takes,” Valeriy said. “I’ll give you a key to the back entrance so you can come and go freely. There’s a couch in my office, with a pillow and blanket.”
A small, grateful smile touched her lips.
“I promise, this place will be spotless,” she said.
As he showed her the kitchen and cleaning supplies, Valeriy hesitated before asking, “Forgive me for being direct, but… you don’t seem like someone who’s homeless.”
She lowered her eyes and nodded.
“My husband brought another woman home. The only thing missing from their perfect life was our daughter. He never really cared about her—his main concern was his image. I had no way to fight for custody, so I had to take her and leave.”
Valeriy sighed. He had heard similar stories before. He couldn’t help but wonder, Where were you all when you chose these men?
As if reading his thoughts, she added, “I know what you’re thinking. But he wasn’t always like this… or maybe I just didn’t notice. I met him when I was twenty. The government provided me with housing since I was an orphan, but we sold it to buy a bigger house. He contributed money, too, but now he has a home, and I have nothing.”
Valeriy nodded, gripping the doorknob.
“I won’t bother you anymore. If you need anything, my number is on business cards in my office drawer.”
She reached out and lightly touched his hand.
“Why did you decide to close the restaurant?” she asked. “It was such a wonderful place.”
Valeriy offered a sad smile.
“Things change. Do you think betrayal only happens in marriages? It happens in business, too. I just need a few more weeks to finalize the sale.”
He left, but as he walked away, he realized he was already invested in what would happen to her and her daughter.
A New Beginning
Three days later, Valeriy returned to check on them. To his surprise, the restaurant was buzzing with activity. Tables had been neatly moved aside, curtains had been taken down for washing, and the scent of home-cooked food filled the air.
“There’s real work happening here,” he remarked.
Lera, as he now knew her name, looked up, her eyes shining with energy.
“You even made lunch?” he asked, spotting the set table.
“Yes,” she admitted shyly. “There’s so much good food here—it would be a shame to waste it.”
Little Rita helped set the table, sticking out her tongue in concentration. Valeriy watched them and realized he hadn’t enjoyed a meal this much in ages.
“Did you study culinary arts?” he asked.
Lera laughed.
“I did. And honestly, if I could, I’d cook all day. There’s something magical about transforming simple ingredients into something special.”
Valeriy exhaled.
“It’s a shame we didn’t meet earlier—we could’ve taken this place to the next level.”
Lera held his gaze.
“Why not try now?”
“It’s too risky. If it fails, I’ll be drowning in debt,” he admitted.
Lera sighed.
“That’s a shame. I always loved this place. My husband and I used to come here in the early years of our marriage.” She turned away, wiping her eyes.
The Unexpected Twist
On the day of the sale, Valeriy arrived with the buyer and the bank representative funding the deal. The restaurant was immaculate, fresh flowers placed on side tables.
The bank owner frowned.
“You said this place was closed? It looks like a fully operating restaurant.”
Valeriy chuckled. “A special exception for you.”
In the kitchen, Lera looked pale.
“What’s wrong?” Valeriy asked.
“My ex-husband is here. He’s the buyer,” she whispered.
Valeriy’s jaw clenched.
Back in the dining area, the bank owner, savoring his meal, said, “Whoever cooked this—keep them. This level of talent isn’t easy to replace.”
All eyes turned to Valeriy, who hesitated before Lera stepped forward.
“Hello,” she said softly.
Her ex-husband shot up in shock.
“Lera? What are you doing here?”
“I’m cooking,” she said calmly.
Furious, he snapped, “You kidnapped our daughter!”
The bank owner glanced at Valeriy, who nodded.
“I’m aware of the situation,” he said.
The bank owner stood.
“I’m withdrawing the loan. I won’t do business with a man like this.”
Valeriy turned to the buyer.
“You know, I’ve decided not to sell after all. With a chef like this, the restaurant will thrive again.”
The buyer stormed out, vowing revenge.
Three months later, the restaurant reopened. Lera and Rita moved in with Valeriy.
One evening, as they walked along the promenade, Valeriy stopped and smiled.
“You know, today you’re officially free. Have you sworn off marriage?” he teased.
Lera laughed. “I haven’t even thought about it.”
“Then start thinking,” he said, pulling out a ring. “Because I already bought this.”