Let’s Live for Each Other After Egor’s mother passed away, he slowly started to recover. She had spent her final days in hospital. Before that, she’d been at home, and Egor and his wife Vera took turns caring for her. Their houses stood side by side—even though he’d offered to move his mum into their home, she wouldn’t hear of it. “Son, your father died here and so will I. It’s easier for me this way,” she wept, and Egor couldn’t bring himself to force her. It would have been easier for him and Vera if his mother had stayed with them, but their daughter, Ksyusha, was only thirteen—he didn’t want her to witness her grandmother fading away. With Egor working shifts, and Vera teaching primary school, someone was always watching after his mother; each night, they even took turns sleeping at her house. “Mum, is Grandma going to die soon?” Ksyusha would ask. “I feel so sorry for her—she’s so kind.” “I don’t know, love. But one day it will happen. That’s just life.” When his mother’s condition worsened, she was taken to hospital. Egor had a younger sister, Rita, three years his junior, with a son, Anton. Their mum and Vera often watched Anton as Rita, “away on business trips,” rarely helped. Divorced, Rita wanted nothing to do with caring for their mother, confident her brother and his wife took care of things. Rita was Egor’s opposite—tough, cold, often argumentative. Three days after being admitted to hospital, Egor and Rita’s mother passed away. After the funeral, they agreed to sell her house—without upkeep, it would quickly deteriorate. Their mother had bequeathed the home to Egor; she’d grown distant from Rita, who knew about it and didn’t keep in touch. After the sale, Vera insisted, “Egor, split the money evenly with Rita, as soon as the cash comes in.” “But Vera, she’s got a flat—her ex left her with it—and she’ll only fritter the money away,” Egor replied. “Doesn’t matter. Our conscience will be clear. Otherwise, she’ll just bad-mouth us everywhere.” Egor agreed and handed Rita half the money. She only sneered, “Is that all? Where’s the rest?” Time passed. Ksyusha turned fifteen, then another tragedy struck. Vera fell ill and took to bed. Her symptoms had long been put down to exhaustion from school, until she collapsed in their garden. A hospital visit confirmed the worst, and it was too late. “Isn’t there anything you can do for my wife?” Egor pleaded. “We’re doing everything we can, but she should have come sooner—or at all. Surely you saw something was wrong,” said the doctor. “Of course I did. I kept urging her to see the GP, but Vera always puts everyone else first… never herself,” Egor sighed. Soon, Vera returned home bedridden and never got up again. Egor and their daughter cared for her as the illness advanced. Egor learned to administer injections, taking leave from work to stay close. Eventually, work leave ended; Ksyusha, now handling school, chores, and her mother’s care, was exhausted. One day, Rita visited. “Egor, my washing machine’s broken—can you fix it? I know you’re good with these things.” “All right,” he agreed, fixing it after work the next day. On his way out, Egor said, “Rita, try visiting us sometimes—don’t leave Ksyusha alone with Vera. She’s only fifteen, and it’s hard both physically and mentally while I’m at work. She even sits up with her mum during my night shifts. Vera isn’t a stranger—she practically raised Anton for years and fought for your flat when your ex wanted half.” “Don’t bring up ancient history now! Anton’s seventeen. Sure, your Vera helped when I was off working, but I gave her a gold ring in return.” “Yes, and Vera gave it straight back, which you gladly took,” Egor retorted. “If she didn’t want it, that’s her problem. And anyway, there’s a world of difference between looking after a healthy boy and sitting with someone dying. Count me out,” Rita snapped, leaving without thanks. Stung by her words, Egor told her, “Don’t come to me for help again. You’re heartless and cruel.” After that, he never mentioned his sister. Vera faded quickly after. That day, Ksyusha spotted Egor from the window and rushed out to meet him. “Dad, mum’s really bad—she’s turned to the wall, won’t eat or speak. I tried to give her medicine and water, but…” “It’s all right, sweetheart, we’ll get through this—we will.” But that night, Vera passed away. Egor and Ksyusha grieved together. Though Egor loved her deeply, Vera’s illness had drained him and Ksyusha both. In a strange way, part of him was relieved Vera was no longer suffering, and his daughter didn’t have to witness it. After the funeral, Egor was left alone with his memories—her smile, her laughter, her care—and their absence haunted him. Ksyusha, grieving just as deeply, tried to comfort him. “Dad, we did everything we could. Now mum’s at peace and doesn’t suffer anymore. We’ll get used to it—what matters most is that we have each other.” “You’ve grown up so much, Ksyusha. This made you an adult overnight,” Egor marvelled. Ksyusha kept close to her dad, and Egor hurried home from every shift, knowing she was waiting, often with homemade dinners—Ksyusha had even learned to cook. One day, after coming home, Ksyusha said, “Dad, Auntie Rita dropped by after school. She wanted to fetch mum’s old mink coat and a few other things—she said you’d agreed.” “I most certainly did not. Next time, be careful and lock the door as soon as you get in. She has no business here.” While at work, Egor suffered chest pains—breathing became agony, and he nearly fainted. Colleagues called an ambulance; Ksyusha rushed to the hospital in tears. “Don’t worry,” assured the doctor, “your dad’s awake, but he nearly had a heart attack. He’ll need care.” Now everything fell on Ksyusha—her father, school, housework. She managed the routine, visiting her dad in hospital and bringing home-cooked meals. One day, Rita showed up with a pie. “Ksyusha, I’ve baked this pie for your dad. Take it to him, will you? I can’t go—he hates the sight of me. And don’t tell him I made it.” “Thank you, Auntie Rita,” Ksyusha replied, and Rita left. Fifteen minutes later, Anton arrived. “Forgot my keys—thought I’d pop in. Oh, did you bake a pie, Ksyusha?” “No, your mum just brought it over for my dad. Want a slice? You just finished school and dad can’t eat a whole one.” Anton accepted; Ksyusha made tea, and they decided to visit the hospital together. But as they reached the hospital steps, Anton turned pale, sweating, then collapsed—luckily, they were at the hospital. Tests revealed Anton had ingested a poisonous substance. “What did he eat?” asked the doctor. “The pie—my aunt brought it for my dad,” Ksyusha said quietly. “Under no circumstances let your dad eat any. We need to look into this,” the doctor ordered. Rita was called to the hospital and, seeing her stricken son, paled. “Antosha, what happened? What could’ve poisoned you?” “He had your pie, Auntie Rita,” Ksyusha explained. Rita turned even whiter. Eventually, Rita was taken into police custody; she’d meant to poison Egor and seize his house, thinking Ksyusha could go off to university and live in a dorm. She hadn’t considered her own son might eat the pie. After Egor was released from hospital, he, Ksyusha, and Anton visited Rita in jail. She sobbed, “Forgive me, Egor—forgive me, Anton, and you too, Ksyusha… I’m so sorry. Please, I beg you.” Egor withdrew his statement, and Rita was freed. Anton couldn’t forgive her and spent more time with Egor and Ksyusha. “Uncle Egor, I’ll never forgive my mother. I hate her—how could she do that?” “Anton, you can’t choose your parents. She did something unforgivable, but she regrets it deeply. Everyone makes mistakes—give her a chance. Forgive her. She’s suffering for what she did.” In time, things healed. Anton started university; Ksyusha finished school, planning to study further, not wanting to leave her dad alone. “Don’t worry about me, love. Go on and study—your mum always wanted you to become a teacher. We’ll live for each other. You’ll come home for weekends and holidays, and that’s enough for now. We’ll be all right—you and me.”

Let Us Live for Each Other

After his mothers passing, George managed to pull himself together a little. Shed spent her final weeks in hospital, where she died, but before that, shed been at home, and he and his wife, Helen, had taken turns caring for her. Their houses stood side by side. Though George had suggested his mother move in with them, she wouldnt hear of it.

My dear, your father died in this house, and so shall I. Its easier for me this way, she wept, and George couldnt refuse her.

It would certainly have been easier for him and Helen if his mother had been with them, but their daughter, Alice, was thirteen, and he didnt want her watching her grandmother fade away. George worked shifts; Helen was a primary school teacher. Still, his mother was never left alone, and they even spent nights at her house by turn.

Mum, is Grandma going to die soon? Alice would ask. I feel so sorry for her; shes always been so kind to us.

I dont know, my love. That time comes for all. Its just part of life, Helen would reply.

Grandmas condition worsened, and she was taken to hospital. George had a younger sister, Margaret, three years his junior, with a son, Tony. Their mother and Helen had done most of the caring for Tony, as Margaret was always off somewhere, travelling for work, she claimed. Shed long been divorced and showed no interest in helping with their mother, knowing George and Helen looked after her. Margaret, sharp-tongued and cold-hearted, was nothing like her brother.

Three days after her admission, George and Margarets mother died in hospital. After the funeral, they decided to sell her houseit needed attention, and empty houses soon fall to disrepair. Their mother had left the house to George; her relationship with Margaret had never been good, and Margaret knew it, which was why shed stopped speaking to their mother.

Despite this, after the sale, Helen insisted:

George, once you get the money, you need to split it with Margaret.

But Helen, Margaret has her own flat; her ex left her a lovely place. Shell just fritter the money away.

That doesnt matter, George. Our conscience will be clear. Otherwise, shell go round telling everyone we did her out of her shareand drag my name in too.

George gave in and handed his sister half the money, but instead of gratitude, Margaret just sneered, Is that it? Wheres the rest?

Time passed; Alice was now fifteen when more misfortune struckHelen fell seriously ill. Shed mentioned feeling unwell, but blamed it on tirednessteaching children is exhausting. Then, one afternoon, she collapsed in their garden and was rushed to hospital. The diagnosis was grima cruel disease had taken hold, and it was too late to cure.

There must be something you can do for her, George pleaded with the doctor, but he simply shook his head.

Were doing our best, but she came to us far too latereally, she didnt come at all; she collapsed. Didnt you notice she was ill?

Of course I did, I begged her to see a doctor. But Helens always thought of others, never herself George trailed off.

He brought Helen home. She took to her bed and never got up again. He and Alice nursed her, but the illness only grew worse. George learned to give her injections, even took leave from work to be near her. But soon, leave ran out, and he had to return to his job. After school, Alice fed and washed her mother, doing all she could.

One evening Margaret turned up.

George, my washing machines on the blink. You know how to fix these thingscould you have a look?

All right, Ill come by, he agreed, and stopped on his way home to repair it.

As George was leaving, he said, Maybe you could stop in now and then, help Alice out with Helen while Im at work? Shes just a girl, Margaret, only fifteen, and shes had to sit up nights with her mum when Im on night shift. Even an adult would find it hard, but Alices just a child. And Helen isnt a strangershe all but raised your Tony till he was ten. She fought to get you that flat when your ex tried to get his share.

Oh, dont bring up what happened a thousand years ago. Tonys seventeen now, and I married before you did. Yes, Helen helped me back then while I was working away, and I gave her a gold ring for it.

Yes, but she gave it straight back, and you were pleased to take it.

Well, she didnt want it, did she? And its hardly the same, looking after a healthy child and waiting on the dying. Dont expect me to do it, Margaret retorted sharply, not even thanking him for fixing her machine.

George wasnt just hurt by her words. Dont ever ask anything of me again. Youre cold, heartless, he told herand from then on, didnt mention her.

Helens condition quickly worsened. That day, Alice saw her father coming home and raced out to meet him.

Dad, please, Mums so unwell. She wont eat, shes turned away to the wall and wont speak. I tried to give her medicine, and water, but

Well manage, love. Well get through this, I promise.

But Helen died that very night. They cried together, left alone now. In a way, George felt almost relievedHelens suffering was over, and Alice no longer had to watch her fade away. Hed loved his wife dearly, but that merciless illness had worn him and Alice to the bone.

After the funeral, George struggled. He missed Helens warmth, her laughter, her care. It was unbearable knowing shed never be by his side again. Alice, too, mourned, but tried to comfort her father.

We did everything we could, Dad. And even though shes not with us, we have to accept it. Mums at peaceshes not suffering anymore. Well get used to this bit by bit. The most important thing is we have each other.

My goodness, Alice, youre all grown up now, George marvelled. What happened forced you to grow quickly.

Alice looked after George, always wanting to be near him; George hurried home after work, knowing shed be waiting and would probably have cooked something. Alice had taught herself how. Over dinner, theyd share stories of their day.

One evening, when George came home, Alice told him, Dad, Aunt Margaret called round after school, just after I got in.

What did she want?” George replied sharply. “Dont let her in.

She followed me in before I could close the door. She said she needed to collect Mums fur coat and a few other bits. She said you knew.

I didnt give her anything, Alice added, and she stormed off upset.

I gave her no such permission. Next time, lock the door as soon as youre home. She has no business here.

One day at work, George suddenly had severe chest pains and struggled to breathe; his colleague called an ambulance, and he was rushed to hospital. Alice arrived in tears, but the doctor reassured her.

There, there. Dont cry. Your father is consciousit was a close thing, but hell need some time to recover.

Now all the responsibilities fell to Aliceher father, school, all the housework. There was no one else. She rushed about, managing as best she could, visiting her father as often as possible, and sometimes bringing him a home-cooked meal.

One day, Margaret brought round a cake.

Alice, I baked this for your dad at the hospital. I wont gohe cant stand the sight of me. Take it for me, but dont tell him I made it.

All right, thank you, Aunt Margaret, Alice replied, and Margaret left.

Not long after, Tony came roundhe sometimes helped Alice out, after all, they were cousins. He was finishing school too.

I forgot my keys, so I popped in, he explained, then noticed, Did you bake that cake, Alice?

No, I cant bake. Your mum dropped it off for my dad. Have a sliceyouve just come from school, and theres loads.

Tony gratefully accepted, and she poured him some tea. They decided to go to the hospital together. Suddenly, on the steps outside the hospital, Alice saw panic wash over Tonys facehe clutched the railing, collapsed, and fainted. Fortunately, help was close by.

It turned out, Tonys blood contained a poisonous substance.

What did he eat? the doctor asked Alice.

The cake. My Aunt Margaret brought it, for my dad.

Dont give your father any of it. Ill take itwe need to check something.

When Margaret was told, she rushed to the hospital in a panic.

Oh my God, my boy, whats happened? What could have poisoned you?

He ate your cake, Aunt Margaret, Alice replied, and Margaret turned ashen.

Soon after, Margaret was taken in for questioning. It transpired that shed laced the cake, hoping to poison her brother, sell his house, and let Alice go off to college and live in halls. She hadnt expected Tony to eat it too.

When George was finally discharged, he came with Alice and Tony to visit Margaret.

Forgive me, George. Forgive me, TonyAlice, Im so sorry, sobbed Margaret. Ive realised what Ive done. Pleaseplease forgive me.

George withdrew his statement, and in time, Margaret was released. Tony could not forgive his mother, and their relationship fell apart; he spent much more time with George and Alice.

Uncle George, Ill never forgive Mum. I hate herhow could she?

Tony, you cant choose your parents. Yes, what she did was terribly wrong, but she genuinely regrets everything. We all make mistakesgive her a chance, forgive her. Shes still your mum, and shes suffering, George answered gently.

Over time, things slowly settled. Tony got into university, and Alice finished school and planned to go as well, though she hated to leave her father alone.

Its all right, love. You must go and studyyoull visit at weekends and in the holidays. Well live for each other, always. Its what your mum would have wanted, for you to go to teacher training college.

And so, from all their heartbreak and hardship, they learned that familyno matter its flaws or painremains your truest companion. In the end, nothing matters more than caring for one another and living for those you love.