Sergey had always been different from his peers, and his father often wondered why. Pavel Ivanovich didn’t just love his son—he felt a deep sense of pride for him. Whenever his wife, Natasha, was nearby, he would often ask her why their son was so unusual, noting that no one in their family had ever been like him.
Natasha would just smile and tell him to stop calling Sergey strange, reminding him that he was a perfectly normal modern boy. He played sports, had many interests, and simply preferred poetry and drawing over toy cars and plastic guns. Not everyone had to be the same.
Pavel would sigh, admitting that he had hoped his son would grow out of these peculiar hobbies and become more typical with age. Natasha would reassure him that times were changing, and Sergey was simply unique in his own way.
Pavel never discussed family matters outside the home. He kept his concerns to himself, not wanting Natasha to worry. She only knew that he worked with cars and owned a dealership selling both new and used vehicles. That was enough for her. For Pavel, the most important thing was making sure his family never lacked anything.
When Sergey turned fifteen, they threw him a birthday party. During the celebration, Natasha suddenly looked unwell. Sergey was the first to notice, approaching her with concern. He asked if she was feeling alright, but she dismissed his worry, saying she was just a little tired. He suggested skipping the party and just having cake together, but she insisted that fifteen was a milestone and that he should enjoy himself with his friends.
Still uneasy, Sergey turned to his father and asked him to keep an eye on his mother. She looked pale and was sweating, yet claimed to be fine. Pavel was surprised but glanced at his wife and realized his son was right. Without making a scene, he gently urged Natasha to rest, promising they could handle everything without her.
Sergey wasn’t just worried because she looked unwell. He was worried because she actually agreed to rest—something that was completely out of character for her.
Later that night, after the guests had left, Natasha’s condition worsened. Pavel called an ambulance. The doctors’ diagnosis was devastating—a severe illness that was advancing at a terrifying pace.
Within three months, the disease had drained her completely. For Sergey, it was a nightmare. He watched helplessly as his once-strong and confident father became weak and lost.
One evening, he found his father drinking alone in his study. Sergey hesitated for a moment, then finally spoke. He told his father that he knew how hard things were for him. Pavel chuckled bitterly, pointing at his glass, admitting that it helped him forget—at least for a while. Sergey took a deep breath and asked his father to pour him a drink as well.
Pavel was outraged, demanding to know if he had lost his mind. Sergey simply asked what else he was supposed to do. His father had found a way to numb his pain, but he had no one to talk to.
Pavel stared at his glass for a long moment before pouring its contents into a potted plant. Sergey watched in silence, then finally muttered that their mother would have been furious if she had seen that. Unable to hold back his emotions any longer, he broke down in tears. Pavel pulled him into an embrace, telling him to cry if he needed to.
From that moment on, their bond only grew stronger. They became inseparable, two halves of the same heart.
Sergey graduated high school and enrolled in a philology program while continuing his studies at an art school. Even after earning his degree, he still took private lessons, refining his craft.
His father often grumbled, questioning why he wouldn’t choose something more serious. He argued that a man’s self-worth came from the money he earned and couldn’t understand why Sergey wasted his time on books and paintings.
Sergey, focused on a painting he had been working on for a month, asked his father why a person needed so much money. Pavel was momentarily taken aback but quickly replied that money could buy anything a person desired.
Sergey raised an eyebrow and asked if that included everything.
Pavel hesitated, then admitted that money couldn’t buy health. Sergey nodded and pointed out that if the most important things in life couldn’t be purchased, then was it really worth sacrificing everything else for wealth?
Pavel shot up from his chair and started pacing the room. He demanded to know where his son got such ideas, accusing him of being sheltered from real-world problems thanks to his wealth.
Sergey asked his father a single question—if they had nothing but still had their mother, wouldn’t they still have been happy?
Pavel stood frozen for a moment before quietly admitting that they would have been.
Sergey told him that, as a child, he had always dreamed of them living in a quiet village, far away from business meetings, partners, and constant negotiations. Just the three of them, together as a family.
Pavel studied his son’s face and said he was strange, like nothing truly mattered to him. Sergey just smiled and said that wasn’t true. He was deeply interested in many things—art, creativity, and leaving behind something lasting. He turned his painting toward his father.
It was a portrait of Natasha.
Pavel’s breath caught. His chin trembled, and tears began rolling down his cheeks. Sergey gently told him that their mother could still be a part of their lives every single day, that they could remember her as she was—alive and full of warmth.
Pavel wiped his eyes, reluctantly agreeing that his son had a point. But he added that living without financial struggles wasn’t such a bad thing either.
Sergey laughed and said he wouldn’t argue with that.
A year later, Pavel’s business started to decline rapidly. The situation was growing more dangerous by the day. He was becoming more anxious, feeling the pressure mount.
His longtime assistant, Regina, entered his office, asking if he planned to go home. He distractedly told her he was busy but would leave soon, suggesting she go home herself. She had worked with him for five years, and their relationship had long since crossed the line of professional boundaries.
Instead of leaving, she sat across from him and asked what was going on.
He tried to smile, but inside, he felt uneasy. He told her that someone bigger had decided he was in the way. She kept watching him, waiting for him to continue.
Finally, he told her to leave town for a while. In his safe was an envelope with a bonus and a travel ticket. It was for her, in case something happened.
Regina tilted her head, surprised by his words, and remained silent for a moment before nodding. She asked when she should go.
He told her she should have left yesterday but that he had managed to get her a ticket for the next day.
She stood up and headed for the door. She said they would talk when everything was over.
That night, Sergey waited for his father, but he never came home. The news reported an explosion in his father’s car. Sergey collapsed to the floor. The image on the screen confirmed it—it was his father’s vehicle.
For days, he called hospitals, searching for answers. Then, a month later, he received the shock of his life.
The will was read, and to everyone’s astonishment, Pavel had sold his entire business three days before his supposed death. All of his assets had been liquidated. His former partner angrily demanded to know what had happened to the money, but Sergey had no idea.
His father had left him only a small, run-down house in a remote village. Everyone assumed he had been tricked, but Sergey felt a strange sense of relief. A quiet village life sounded more appealing than the chaos of the city.
He took a train to see his unexpected inheritance. When he arrived, dusk was setting in. As he approached the house, he noticed a luxury car in the yard—far too expensive for a rural area.
Peeking through the window, his world spun, and he lost consciousness.
When he awoke, a familiar voice called out to him. His father.
Pavel stood before him, very much alive. Sergey, overwhelmed, demanded answers.
Pavel explained that when things became too dangerous, he had sold everything, transferred the money elsewhere, and disappeared.
Sergey listened, tears in his eyes. His childhood dream had come true. They had finally escaped to a quiet life.
As they sat drinking tea, Regina appeared at the gate. She had come looking for Sergey, worried that he wouldn’t be happy there.
Sergey nudged his father and told him not to just sit there. Pavel, still shocked, got up and ran after her.
A few minutes later, he returned with a sheepish grin and announced that they had decided to get married.
Regina crossed her arms and huffed that he had decided, not her.
But she had agreed nonetheless.