Polina
“Well, Polina, I’m really sorry to hear you’ve decided to resign,” says Lyubov Georgiivna, the head of HR. “I thought you’d take the secretary position.”
“I wanted that so much, but circumstances have changed…” I say, my voice heavy with sadness.
“Is this your final decision?”
“Unfortunately, I can’t stay in Kyiv any longer,” I reply, fighting back tears. I hate losing such a great job, but right now, my mom’s health is the most important thing.
“Oh, so you’re leaving the city?”
“Yes, I’m heading back to Dnipro. I’m needed at home right now.”
“If you ever decide to return to Kyiv, there’ll be a spot for you here.”
“Thank you,” I say, touched by her words, before saying goodbye and leaving the office where I had hoped to work for a long time. But life has its own plans, so tonight I’ll board a train, and by tomorrow morning, I’ll be home.
They found a tumor during my mom’s checkup, but she doesn’t want to tell me much. Just short phrases and requests not to worry. How can I not worry? She’s my mom! Of course, I’m anxious, and the very evening I got the bad news, I decided to go back home. My own wishes don’t matter right now. I need to be there and help however I can. Aunt Kate mentioned there’s another test coming up, so there’s still hope that the diagnosis might be wrong and treatment could be managed with medication instead of surgery. I’m praying for that every day, hoping everything turns out okay.
I take the subway to my stop and stroll through the city one last time—a city that welcomed me so warmly. I’ve felt calm and at home here. I walk slowly to my building and head up to the apartment. I can hear Dash is already home, busy with something in the kitchen.
“Hey,” I greet her, and she jumps, not having heard me come in.
“Phew, you scared me,” she says, pressing her hands to her chest. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, they processed my resignation.”
“Don’t worry, Pol. We’re all hoping this passes without serious consequences,” she says, coming over and placing her hands on my shoulders.
“Mhm,” I mumble, a sob escaping as the emotional strain reaches its peak. For two weeks, I’ve been thinking about my mom, my anxiety growing every day. It’s so hard to keep it together. I wanted to leave for home right away, but I had to work my two-week notice period while they found a replacement.
“Don’t cry, sunshine. Everything will be okay. The important thing is to stay strong and not think the worst.”
“I won’t,” I say, wiping my eyes. “I’ll go pack my things.”
“Wait, I found something,” she says, walking over to the table and turning her open laptop toward me. “Look at this. I checked all the job listings and found something really interesting. Take a peek,” she invites me to sit and shows me a vacancy for an administrator at an IT company in Dnipro.
“Dash, do you really think they’d hire me at a company like that?” I ask skeptically.
“Absolutely. One hundred percent,” my cousin replies without hesitation. “Did they give you a recommendation letter?”
“They did, but…”
“No ‘buts.’ You have to try. You’ve already worked as an administrator; you know the ins and outs. Besides, it’s not such a high-flying position that you should doubt yourself. Never doubt yourself, Pol. You’re smart, quick-witted, and incredibly responsible. If I had my own company,” she drawls, bringing a smile to my lips, “I’d fight to have an employee like you.”
“Okay, stop, you’re making me blush,” I grumble, making her laugh.
I sit down and look over the job details. I doubt they’re waiting for someone like me with so little experience. Still, I need to find work because I’m definitely not going to live off my mom. I save the contact info on my phone and decide to call tomorrow to start my search. Dash is right; I should give it a shot so I don’t regret it later.
I pack my things while Dash sits nearby, trying to cheer me up and helping me fold clothes into my suitcase. It’s bittersweet… I’ve gotten so used to living with her. We’ve gotten along so well all this time, spent fun weekends together, talked a lot, and shared so many interests. I can see Dash is sad too, but she has a happy event ahead. Come spring, she’ll be Vitaly’s wife, and I would’ve had to find a new place anyway. Paying for this apartment on my own would’ve been too expensive. My phone’s ringtone pulls me out of my thoughts and packing. I sigh when I see the name on the screen and glance at Dash.
“It’s Nick.”
“Don’t want to talk?” she asks, understanding me.
“I don’t want to hear the disappointment in his voice, like I’m abandoning him.”
“You never gave him false hope, so there shouldn’t be any complaints.”
“I know,” I say, but I can’t ignore the call and press answer. “Hey, Nick.”
“Polina, you didn’t even say goodbye,” he says right away, sounding hurt.
“Sorry, I was in a rush. My train’s tonight.”
“So soon? And what, you’re never coming back?”
“Why not? Let’s hope for the best. I’ll have reasons to visit Kyiv again,” I say, looking at Dash, who smiles. “But right now, I have to go. Things came up at home.”
“I get it. Can I call you sometimes? I don’t want you to just disappear.”
“Sure, of course. I’d be happy to chat. As friends,” I add, and I hear him let out a small huff.
“Yeah, I got that. Good luck, Polina.”
“Thanks, Nick. You too.”
I end the call and sit down next to Dash. I rest my head on her shoulder and close my eyes. There’s so much hope in his voice that I almost feel guilty for not being able to reciprocate. But the wall I’ve built inside me is so strong that no warm feelings for the opposite sex can break through. I didn’t build it so carefully for nothing.
“You shut Nick down pretty firmly,” Dash concludes. “It’s a shame that immature jerk ruined such a beautiful time in your life.”
“I don’t think about him, Dash. I let go of that story a long time ago. I have other problems now. That incident… it was ages ago, not worth bringing up.”
“But you do think about someone, don’t you? Someone’s keeping you restless, though you don’t have to answer. Everyone has their secrets,” she sighs, and we don’t touch on the topic of relationships again. Not that there were any relationships to speak of. I just think of Vlad, follow his advice, and try not to trust. I still remember his words about trust. I wonder what made him say that? Did he also have a painful experience tied to trust in his life?
Dash helps me finish packing and calls a taxi for me. We say goodbye with a tight hug, and I barely manage to hold back my tears. At the train station, I sit in a daze, unable to believe I’m returning to Dnipro. It’s as if the past year and a half—time that saved me from depression and helped me change my path—never happened. It feels like I’m walking down an old, familiar trail again, but I’ll do my best not to betray my new goals and the lifestyle I’ve grown accustomed to.
I bought a ticket for a regular train, in a compartment on the upper bunk, so I make my bed right away and lie down. I don’t like traveling during the day; it’s better to board in the evening, try to sleep, and wake up already home. As usual, I can’t fall asleep, so I just lie there, thinking about my life. I catch a weak mobile signal and look at the job listing Dash found again. Yes, I should try. Maybe I’ll get lucky and find a good job quickly. I manage to doze off for a bit, and when I wake up, I just lie there, watching the kilometers fly by outside the window.
Before arriving, I notice a missed call from my dad on my phone. I haven’t told him about Mom yet; I don’t know how to bring it up since there’s no confirmed diagnosis. I don’t want to scare him prematurely, and I’m really hoping there won’t be anything to scare him with. I decide to talk to Mom first, then I’ll call him. I’ll do it from home. I step onto the platform at Dnipro’s train station. They say the air smells sweeter at home, and it’s true. It’s calmer here than in Kyiv, but life still buzzes with energy. Not wanting to drag my suitcase, which has grown heavier over the past year and a half, I call a taxi and head home. Near the building, I try to calm my nerves, check the time, and realize Mom must be getting ready for work, so I hurry into the entrance. I find my keys in my bag and unlock the apartment door. Mom appears at the kitchen doorway, looking surprised. I’ve missed her so much that tears well up in my eyes.
“Hey,” I try to smile through the tears.
“Sweetie, weren’t you supposed to come later, for your exams?” she rushes toward me.
“I’m not here for exams,” I say, hugging her tightly and letting out a sob. “You need me more right now.”