When she arrived at her fiancé’s grave, pregnant and alone, Olesya discovered a strange phone. The moment she turned it on, she fainted.
She stepped off the bus with heavy steps. The ride had been quiet, filled only with silent tears. Her world had ended when Andrey’s had. In two months, their daughter would arrive—that tiny heartbeat inside her was the only reason she kept going.
They met two years after she left the orphanage. Olesya was juggling vocational school and night shifts at a factory. Life was tough, but survival didn’t leave room for comfort.
Andrey came to the factory to install new equipment. From that day, they were inseparable.
When she found out she was pregnant, Andrey proposed without hesitation. He wanted to take her to meet his family.
But Olesya knew all too well how people, especially wealthy families, looked at girls from orphanages. She wanted to avoid their judgment—Andrey could think she was overthinking, but she had her reasons.
Three months ago, he left. He said he’d be back soon. She waited—days, then weeks.
But he never returned.
Everyone whispered the same thing: He’d abandoned her. But Olesya couldn’t believe that. Not her Andrey.
Then, by chance, she overheard someone in the office say the man who’d come to install equipment—her Andrey—had died.
When she came to in the accountant’s office, the older woman confirmed it. “He’d just gotten home when some thugs jumped him. Three guys. They caught them—but what does that change? He’s gone.”
Olesya sat in silence, the pain in her chest worse than anything she’d ever known.
Now, she moved slowly through the cemetery in the rain, toward his grave. She needed to say goodbye. To forgive herself.
He had gone back home to prepare his family to meet her. And she—she had been too worried about being judged.
She spotted his grave, still fresh and buried in flowers. A large stone structure stood nearby—an old mausoleum. His photo hung from the cross above his grave.
“Hello, my love. We meet again,” she whispered before falling to her knees in tears.
She didn’t know how long she cried. When she came to, she was cold, soaked, and starving. Her phone was gone. She needed shelter.
As the sky opened into a downpour, she tugged the crypt door open.
“Please forgive me, I just need to warm up.”
She sat down inside, leaving the door slightly open. The silence was broken by a sudden vibration—a sleek, expensive phone lay buzzing nearby.
She picked it up, heart pounding, thinking of those stories where the dead reached out to the living.
“Hello?” Her voice trembled.
“Hi, that’s my phone. I lost it yesterday.”
“I just found it.”
“Can you return it? I’ll pay. There’s important stuff on it.”
“I’m at the cemetery,” she said.
“Oh crap… I was taking measurements there yesterday. Must’ve left it on the crypt.”
“I wasn’t feeling well, I—”
Olesya’s voice trailed off. She dropped the phone, then blacked out.
A man shook her awake. “Miss! Wake up!”
Panicking, Dima recognized her instantly. She was the girl his brother had spoken about so often. Without hesitation, he carried her to his car and called home.
“Mom, I found Andrey’s girlfriend at his grave.”
“Take her to the clinic,” Nina instructed. “I’ll come.”
Nina had been devastated by Andrey’s death, but with Dima’s help running the business, she had managed to carry on.
At the clinic, Nina and Dima entered Olesya’s room. Olesya shrank back.
“I’m Andrey’s mother,” Nina said gently.
“You look like him,” Olesya said. “I didn’t come here for help. I just wanted to say goodbye.”
Nina sat down. “Tell me about you and my son.”
When Olesya finished, Nina asked, “Why didn’t you go with him?”
“I was scared,” Olesya admitted. “I grew up in an orphanage. People judge us. I didn’t know how your family would react.”
Nina frowned. “That’s nonsense. I don’t hold such views. You just met the wrong people. Now get some rest. I’ll visit tomorrow.”
“No need—I have a bag in storage. I only lost my phone.”
Later, they collected her things. Among them were photos—pictures of her and Andrey, full of love and laughter. Nina’s eyes welled with tears.
“He really loved her,” she whispered to Dima. “We have to make sure she has everything she needs to raise my grandchild.”
Dima nodded. “We will.”
Two years later…
“Karinochka! Come to Grandma!”
Nina crouched, arms open for her granddaughter. Olesya stood nearby, smiling.
She now lived in the city center, had a nanny, and was studying law.
“Olesya, I need to talk to you,” Nina said.
Olesya tensed. Nina had never been unkind, but she couldn’t help feeling nervous.
“You’re not a child, and neither am I,” Nina said. “Let’s be honest. What’s going on? Don’t you love Dima?”
“I do.”
“And he loves you. Then what’s the problem?”
“It’s Andrey,” Olesya whispered.
Nina’s voice turned firm. “Andrey is gone. He’s not coming back. I’m grateful he had you—but the living belong with the living. Think about what I said.”
Nina left. Olesya stared at her phone for a long time.
Then, slowly, she opened Dima’s contact and typed:
“I’m ready.”