“Steve, I don’t understand what you want,” said Kate.

“Nothing much,” replied Stephen. “I just want some time alone to relax. You know… why not head to the cottage, unwind a bit, and shed a few pounds? You’ve become quite bloated.”

He disdainfully glanced at his wife’s figure. Kate was aware that she had gained weight due to her treatment, but she chose not to argue.

“Where is this cottage?” she asked.

“In a very picturesque spot,” he smirked. “You should like it.”

Kate decided against arguing. She, too, wanted a break. “Perhaps we’re just tired of each other,” she thought. “Let him miss me. I won’t return until he asks for me.”

She began to pack her things.

“Are you upset?” Stephen inquired. “It’s just for a short while, just to recharge.”

“No, it’s fine,” Kate forced a smile.

“Well, I’m off then,” Stephen pecked her on the cheek and left.

Kate sighed heavily. Their kisses had long lost their warmth.

The journey took far longer than expected. Twice, Kate lost her way—the GPS was malfunctioning, and there was no mobile signal. Finally, she spotted a sign marking the village. The place was secluded, with wooden houses that, while simple, were tidy, adorned with ornate window frames.

“There’s clearly no modern convenience here,” Kate mused.

Her assumption proved correct. The house was a dilapidated cabin. Without a car or a phone, she felt as though she’d travelled back in time. Kate took out her mobile. “I’ll call him now,” she thought, but there was still no connection.

As the sun began to set, fatigue washed over her. If she didn’t go inside, she’d have to sleep in the car.

Returning to the city seemed unappealing, and giving Stephen the satisfaction of thinking she couldn’t manage on her own was not an option either.

Kate stepped out of the car. Her bright red jacket looked rather absurd against the rural backdrop. She smiled to herself.

“Well, Katie, we’ll manage,” she said aloud.

The next morning, she was awoken by the piercing cry of a rooster outside the car, where she had fallen asleep.

“What’s all that noise?” grumbled Kate, rolling down the window.

The rooster looked at her with one eye and crowed again.

“Why are you making such a racket?” Kate exclaimed, but then saw a broom fly past the window, and the rooster promptly fell silent.

An elderly man appeared at the door.

“Good morning!” he greeted her warmly.

Kate looked at him in surprise. It seemed like characters like him had nearly vanished—he was like someone out of a storybook.

“Don’t mind our rooster,” the old man said. “He’s a good chap, just loud like he’s being cooked.”

Kate laughed, her sleepiness fading immediately. The old man smiled back.

“Are you staying long or just visiting?”

“Just for a break, for as long as I can manage,” Kate replied.

“Come on in, dear. Join us for breakfast. You can meet my wife. She bakes lovely pies… but there’s no one to eat them. The grandkids visit once a year, and the kids too…”

Kate accepted the invitation. It was important to meet the neighbors.

Peter’s wife was a true fairy-tale grandmother—wearing an apron and headscarf, with a toothless grin and kind wrinkles. The house radiated cleanliness and warmth.

“It’s wonderful here!” Kate exclaimed. “Why do the children visit so rarely?”

Anna waved her hand dismissively.

“We ask them not to come. The roads are terrible. After it rains, it takes a week to get out. There used to be a bridge, though old, but it collapsed five years ago. We live like hermits. Once a week, Stephen goes to the shop. The boat can’t hold up. Stephen is strong, but age…”

“These are heavenly pies!” praised Kate. “Doesn’t anyone care about the people here? Somebody should address this.”

“Why would anyone care? Only fifty people live here now. We used to have a thousand. They’ve all moved away.”

Kate pondered the situation.

“How strange. What about the council?”

“On the other side of the bridge. To go around takes 60 kilometers. Do you think we haven’t tried? The answer is simple: there’s no money.”

Kate realized she had found an issue to focus on during her stay.

“Can you tell me where to find the council? Or will you come with me? There won’t be rain.”

The elderly couple exchanged glances.

“Are you serious? You came here to relax.”

“Quite serious. Relaxation can take many forms. What if I come back, and it rains? I’ll do my part.”

The old couple smiled warmly.

At the town hall, she was met with irritation.

“How long will you keep pestering us? You’re making us out to be villains. Look at the state of our roads! Who do you think will give money for a bridge to a village with fifty residents? Find yourself a sponsor. Maybe Sokolowski. Have you heard of him?”

Kate nodded. Of course, she had heard—this Sokolowski owned the firm where her husband worked. He was from here originally; his parents moved to the city when he was about ten.

After pondering all night, Kate decided to take action. She had Sokolowski’s number; her husband had called him several times from her phone. She resolved not to mention that Stephen was her husband and instead call as a stranger.

The first time she didn’t get through, but on the second attempt, Sokolowski listened to her and then fell silent before laughing.

“You know, I’d forgotten I was born there. What’s it like now?”

Kate brightened.

“It’s very beautiful, peaceful, and the people are wonderful. I’ll send you photos and videos. Igor Borisovich, I’ve gone through all the channels—no one wants to help the elderly. You’re our only hope.”

“I’ll think about it. Send the photos; I want to remember how it was.”

For two days, Kate diligently took videos and photographs for Sokolowski. Her messages were read, but no response came. Just as she was losing hope, Igor Borisovich called her himself: “Kate, could you come to the office on Lenin Street tomorrow around three? And prepare a preliminary work plan.”

“Of course, thank you, Igor Borisovich!”

“You know, this feels like a trip back to my childhood. Life is such a race—there’s never time to stop and daydream.”

“I understand. But you should come personally. I will definitely be there tomorrow.”

As soon as she hung up, Kate realized this was the very office where her husband worked. She smiled—this would make for a funny surprise.

She arrived early, with an hour to spare. After parking her car, she headed towards her husband’s office. The secretary was absent. She stepped inside and heard voices from the break room, so she wandered over. There she found Stephen with his secretary.

They looked startled to see her. Kate froze in the doorway, while Stephen jumped up, trying to pull on his trousers.

“Kate, what are you doing here?” he asked.

Kate dashed out of the office, colliding with Igor Borisovich in the corridor. She thrust the papers at him, and wiping her tears, sprinted for the exit. She couldn’t remember how she got back to the village. She collapsed onto the bed and sobbed.

The next morning, a knock at the door roused her. Standing there was Igor Borisovich with a group of people.

“Good morning, Kate. I see you weren’t ready to talk yesterday, so I came myself. Would you like to have some tea?”

“Of course, come in.”

Igor didn’t mention yesterday’s incident. Over tea, nearly all the villagers gathered at the house. Igor peered out the window.

“Goodness, looks like a delegation! Is that old man Ilyich?”

Kate smiled, “That’s him.”

“He was already a granddad thirty years ago, and his wife fed us pies.”

The man cast a concerned glance at Kate, who quickly replied, “Anna Matveyevna is alive and well and still bakes her famous pies.”

The day flew by with activity. Igor’s team measured, noted, and calculated.

“Kate, may I ask something?” Igor asked. “About your husband… will you forgive him?”

Kate paused thoughtfully, then smiled, “No. You know, I’m even grateful to him for everything that happened… but why?”

Igor was silent. Kate rose and surveyed the house, “If a bridge is built, we could turn this into a wonderful place! Repair the houses, create spots for resting. The nature here is untouched and authentic. But if no one steps up… and what if you don’t want to return to the city…”

Igor admired her. She was a remarkable woman—determined and intelligent. He had never noticed before, but now he saw her in all her glory.

“Kate, can I come again?”

She regarded him carefully: “Please do, I’d be glad.”

The construction of the bridge progressed rapidly. The villagers were grateful to Kate, and the youth began to return. Igor became a frequent visitor.

Stephen called several times, but Kate ignored his calls, eventually blocking his number.

Early one morning, a knock echoed. Sleepy Kate opened the door, bracing for trouble, but standing there was Stephen.

“Hi, Kate. I’ve come to take you back. Enough of being upset. I’m sorry,” he said.

Kate laughed, “‘Sorry’? Is that all?”

“Well, come on… pack your things; we’re going home. You won’t push me away, will you? Besides, it’s not even your house; have you forgotten?”

“Let me show you just how I’ll push you away!” Kate snapped.

The door creaked, and out of the bedroom stepped Igor in casual clothes, “This house was bought with the funds from my company. Or do you, Stephen, think I’m a fool? The office is under audit, and you’ll have to answer many questions. And I’d ask, Kate, to remain calm—it’s not good for you in your condition…”

Stephen’s eyes widened. Igor hugged Kate, “She is my fiancée. Please vacate the house. The divorce papers have already been filed; you’ll receive a notification soon.”

The wedding was celebrated in the village. Igor confessed that he had fallen in love with the place all over again. The bridge was built, the road repaired, and a shop opened. People began purchasing houses for vacation homes. Kate and Igor also decided to refresh their home—somewhere to come back to when they had children.