Having run away with a child from my ex-husband, I met him 3 years later. He didn’t even recognize us…

Three years later, my son came to his hometown to resolve the issue of an apartment. Meeting him was unexpected for me, but he just did not recognize me. I got married early enough. I just turned 18 and six months later I gave birth to a son. Relations with her husband began very quickly. An evening at a club, a handsome guy and sweet speeches, alcohol, and a morning in someone else’s apartment. For me, then the whole world turned upside down, and I fell head over heels in love. And what can I say, he was adorable. Five years older than me, a successful student, he always had money, and he gave me gifts.

Then, at 17, I was a miniature doll, with a pretty appearance, but completely lost my mind to love. The friends then divided into two camps – one big one was for Gleb and me to meet, many were jealous, and the other, a small camp, consisted of several friends who tried to bring me to my senses and show what he really is. For me, it was the first, and as it seemed to me then, the last love. I distanced myself from those who judged my relationship. My parents died a long time ago and my grandmother raised me.

It just so happened that I got pregnant. They played a wedding and hell began. I never thought that a person could change so much. Gleb insulted me, broke my things, and smashed phones, especially when he was drunk. He did not raise his hand to me, but he could push me. From a young beautiful girl, I turned into a servant, at home I wore old and worn things, and I cried every night. After giving birth on a hormonal background, I sharply gained weight, which angered my husband even more. For colleagues and his friends, we were the perfect family. There were even special things in the closet that I put on for the arrival of guests. I didn’t want to tell my grandmother, she had a weak heart and I hid my suffering from her.

My husband and I lived for three years. The last straw was my grandmother’s funeral. Since our town was small, everyone knew each other, when my grandmother died, neighbors and many of my childhood friends came to say goodbye to her. My husband didn’t come to the funeral. He said that it works and that I figured it out myself. With a small son in my arms, I ran and processed all the documents. Then, at the funeral, after a long three years, I once met my best friend, Lenochka. Lena was against Gleb initially. Apparently, she then already understood people better than me. On the day of the funeral, Lena was always by my side, helped with my son, and supported me.

When everyone left, we were left alone and were finally able to talk. “Ksyusha, why was Gleb not there?” – pouring me a cup of tea, asked a friend. “After all, you are now having such a difficult time, he should have supported you” – “He said work is more important. Lena, I’m so sorry.” I leaned over the glass and suddenly everything I had been holding back for years burst out. I sobbed out loud: “I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to you then. I thought it was love, a fairy tale, as they say in books, and they lived happily ever after. Why did everything turn out like this?” Lena hugged me and listened to my confession for almost half an hour.

“You know, Ksyusha, it seems to me that you can’t live like this any longer,” she wiped my tears. “I have now moved to another city, I rent an apartment there. I suggest you come with me. I will help with everything. It really hurts me to see you like this.”

“Lena, what about Artemka?” I nodded at my son sleeping on the couch. “I don’t want to deprive him of his father” – “Yes, what a father he is, there is not even any help from him. In general, I’ll be here for a couple more weeks. She stayed with her parents, you know the address. If you decide, come.” I nodded and hugged my friend. We sat for about an hour, and she drove me and my son home.

There was no one in the apartment. My friend’s words swirled around in my head. The clock was eight in the evening when we arrived, and Gleb worked until five. After waiting an hour, I threw my bag and folded my documents and documents of my son, throwing some things and money that I could find in the apartment. Gleb usually kept all the cash. I put the bag under my son’s bed. The husband returned at 12 at night drunk with traces of lipstick on his shirt and the scent of women’s perfume. It became a bucket of cold water for me. I allowed myself to be trampled into the dirt so hard that it became disgusting. We started arguing. Gleb, as usual, began to insult me, but this time I answered him. My rebuff so angered him that knocking me to the floor, he began to hit me anywhere. After 15 minutes of my beating, he got up and calmly went to sleep, shouting from behind me, that I clean everything before morning and that this will be a lesson for me.

I lay on the floor for about 10 more minutes, then slowly holding on to the walls, I got up. Gleb was already snoring in the bedroom, never bothering to undress. I went into the bath and was horrified – my lip was broken, there were bruises on my face, the whole T-shirt was in the blood, and bruises from my fingers remained on my hands. Looking at myself, I realized that this was the last straw. If I want to save my son, I have to run. I washed, changed, and went to the nursery.

Quietly waking Artyom, I dressed him and taking the bag, obsessed with fear, practically ran out of the house. I was so scared that Gleb would wake up and run in search of us that I didn’t even think of hailing a taxi. I walked with the baby in my arms for almost two blocks, as fast as I could. Finally, I reached the house of Lena’s parents. At night, beaten up, with a small child in my arms, I stood at the door of a friend. I was ashamed and hurt, but my son’s life was most important then. I pressed the bell and a few minutes later I heard a thud outside the door. “Who is it?” – the voice of Lena’s father was heard outside the door. “Maxim Alexandrovich, this is Ksyusha, could you call Lena?” I heard the lock hurriedly open and the door swung open. On the threshold stood Lena with her parents. “God, what did he do to you?” ‘ she said almost in a whisper. Her father took my son from me and Lena took me to the apartment. After laying the child down, I told him what had happened to me. Lena, without thinking twice, picked me up and, asking her parents to look after the boy, went with me to film the beatings.

The next month there were courts, divorce, elements, and restrictions on Gleb in communicating with the child. The friend was always there. After receiving all the documents, my son and I left with Lena to a neighboring city. The first time was hard. Gleb cut off the phone and tried to find me through friends. Later, I got my son into kindergarten and went to work. And only after two and a half years I was able to overcome my fear and allowed a man to appear in my life.

Kirill was different. He was a close friend of Lena’s guy and we often crossed paths with him. For almost two years we were just friends, he learned my story and did not insist on a relationship. Over time, we got closer. Kirill surrounded me with his attention and love, and I literally blossomed next to him. Artyom adored him and therefore was very happy when we began to live together. There was a question about buying a home. But in my hometown, I still had an apartment from my grandmother, and we decided to sell it and buy an apartment in the city where we live.

So three years later, I returned to my hometown. The sale of the apartment and the paperwork took a little longer. On the day when the deal for the sale of the apartment finally took place, Kirill, Artyom, and I went to a cafe to celebrate it. Having made an order, we sat and chatted about all sorts of nonsense. There was a noise, a man and a woman were quarreling at the next table. I recognized this voice right away, I had nightmares about it for a long time. The woman got up from the table and walked towards the door. The man tried to stop her but was eventually slapped. Standing not far from our table, he began to look around in search of a waiter and at that moment our eyes met.

Gleb has changed – stubble, sloppy clothes, wrinkles. He kept his eyes on me for a second, turned away, and finally, seeing the waiter, gave him the money for the order and left, slamming the door. “Mom” – turning to me, Artyom froze, deciding whether to say or not. “Is that…” “Yes, son,” I stroked his head. “That was your dad. But, apparently, you have grown a lot, since he did not even recognize you and me too. Kirill looked at me excitedly, as if asking “are you all right?”. I smiled and nodded back at him. I was no longer afraid, I became stronger even when I left everything at night and took my son, I decided to start life from scratch.

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