saw Lidia, I was shocked. She was a woman my age, dressed in a striking red dress. Time seemed to freeze. I thought, “I’m still here; I’m still alive!” Yet my eyes darted between Lidia and Ilya, trying to understand this surreal encounter.

Ilya greeted me warmly but then added, “Mom, calm down. Lidia is moving in with us—to take control of everything.”

I looked at him in disbelief. “What do you mean, control of everything?” Before I could process his words, Lidia coolly interjected, “You have a great basement. It’s perfect for you. Or maybe you should live with your single daughter instead. I need a private office, and we’ll take the master bedroom.”

Stunned, I felt my heart race. Here I was, a widow who had hoped for my son’s happiness, and now I was being told to leave my cherished home. Instead of screaming, I took a deep breath, gathered my resolve, and silently signed the deed of the house over to Ilya, ceding control. I stepped aside and let them arrange their new “family” on their own terms.

Little did I know, this act of quiet defiance would set off a chain of events that would change our lives forever.

Before that shocking evening, I had hoped Ilya would find a partner who would make him happy. I remembered the long nights spent dreaming of his future with someone who would bring warmth back into our home. Ilya had spoken glowingly about Lidia, describing her as intelligent and passionate about art.

I often asked, “When can I meet her?” and he would reply, “Soon, Mom. When things get serious, you’ll be the first to know.” I dared to hope that the void left by Alexei would begin to mend.

The day I met Lidia was not what I had imagined. I had pictured her as a vibrant, youthful woman, but instead, she was my age, dressed in a bold red dress. Ilya was visibly thrilled, introducing her with excitement.

As I listened, my heart raced. Lidia’s bold declaration about moving in sent shockwaves through me. “Your home is mine now,” she said coolly. I felt disbelief as I realized my son had chosen a partner so unlike what I had envisioned.

In the wake of that turbulent dinner, I made a decision that was both heartbreaking and liberating: I signed the house over to Ilya, relinquishing control. It wasn’t a decision I made lightly, but I recognized that sometimes, to preserve one’s dignity, one must let go.

In the days following that dinner, an eerie silence settled over our family life. Ilya and Betty continued to visit me, but the atmosphere was tense. Then, a month later, my solitude was shattered by a call from Lidia. Her voice was frantic. “How could you do this? So, this was your plan?” she screamed, disbelief and fury in her tone.

I paused, struggling to find the right words. “Lidia, what do you mean?” I managed, my voice shaking.