That’s what my father-in-law suggested the moment he heard about my inheritance.
I woke up before the alarm. Outside, dawn was already peeking through the curtains—soft golden light pouring in.
I carefully slipped out of bed, not wanting to wake my husband. The kitchen tiles were cool against my bare feet. I turned on the kettle and wrapped it in a towel so the boiling wouldn’t wake anyone.
Mornings were my quiet refuge. A small window of peace before the day filled with chores and expectations.
I looked outside at the garden. Green sprouts covered the ground, and my three small flower beds—ones I had gently negotiated for—had begun to bloom.
“Petunias?” my mother-in-law had once raised an eyebrow. “Why not potatoes or carrots? That’s more useful.”
I didn’t argue. I just planted the flowers anyway.
“Up early again?” Nikita’s voice startled me. My husband of three years stretched, yawning.
“Good morning,” I said softly, pouring tea.
“Don’t know how I ended up with a morning person,” he laughed. “Anyway, Dad and I are off early. We’ve got a new route to plan.”
I nodded. Transportation was their business—five minibuses crisscrossing Voronezh. Nikita could talk about it for hours.
“You could show some interest,” he said playfully. “While I work all day, you’re just… here.”
“I’m sorry. How’s the new route going?”
“Better! We’re visiting the administration office today. Got some support there.”
As he talked, I only half-listened. My mind was elsewhere—quietly circling an idea I hadn’t spoken out loud.
“Galchonok! My documents—the blue folder?”
“They’re on the nightstand in the corridor.”
“Thanks!” He kissed me quickly on the cheek. “Don’t forget Mom asked for help with the seedlings.”
I smiled. I hadn’t forgotten. Not after being reminded all week.
Five years ago, I graduated with a degree in decorative horticulture and floristry. I dreamed of a cozy flower shop called *Blooming Dreams*.
Then came Nikita. Confident. Charming. Swept me off my feet.
“Why work?” he said back then. “My dad and I can support you. Your job is to make a warm home.”
And I agreed. I folded away my degree. My plans. My voice.
“Galina, you seem thoughtful today,” Anna Viktorovna observed as we worked in the greenhouse.
“It’s nothing. Just didn’t sleep well.”
She handed me a box of pepper seedlings. The May sun heated the greenhouse walls.
“You know,” she said after a pause, “I wanted something different too, once.”
I looked at her curiously.
“When I was young, I dreamed of becoming an agronomist. Got into the institute and everything. But then I married Mikhail. He said, ‘Enough daydreaming—help with the real work.’ So I did.”
Her words caught me off guard.
“Anna Viktorovna,” I said, my voice softer than I expected, “I have something to share too.”
She looked at me kindly.
“Six months ago, when my grandmother passed, she left me a cottage outside the city. With a large plot. The paperwork just finalized today.”
“And Nikita?”
“He doesn’t know yet. I’ve been waiting… trying to understand what I want.”
I paused, heart racing.
“I want to open a small greenhouse there. Grow flowers. Use what I studied. I want to build something of my own.”
She was quiet for a long moment. Then smiled.
“God bless you, Galina. That’s a beautiful idea.”
That evening, I set the table with extra care. The moment had come.
Nikita and his father came in, excited and animated.
“We got the route!” Nikita beamed. “The administration approved it!”
Mikhail Petrovich added, “We’ll need a new minibus, of course. Might have to take a loan.”
Then they noticed me.
“You said you had good news too?”
I nodded, hands shaking slightly.
“My grandmother left me her cottage and land. As of today, it’s officially mine.”
There was a pause.
“Lesnaya Proseka?” Nikita said. “That area’s valuable!”
“We could sell it and buy a new vehicle!” Mikhail added. “No need for loans. We’ll put it in Nikita’s name.”
I hesitated, then said gently, “Actually… I don’t want to sell it. I have other plans.”
Both men looked confused.
“What kind of plans?” Nikita asked.
“I want to use the land to grow flowers and start a small business.”
“Flowers?” he repeated, surprised. “We need to expand the family business.”
“I’ve been waiting years for this. It’s something I love.”
“It’s not practical,” Mikhail said. “We’re talking about real income here.”
“I understand. But for me, it’s more than income. It’s purpose.”
“That’s… selfish,” Nikita muttered.
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, Anna Viktorovna spoke:
“Enough,” she said firmly. “It’s Galina’s inheritance. Her choice.”
The room went quiet.
“I gave up my dream once,” she added. “I won’t ask someone else to do the same.”
“You’re serious?” Mikhail asked, stunned.
“I am. Galya deserves a chance to try.”
Nikita sighed. “But the vehicle—”
“We can find another solution,” his mother said. “Loan, lease. And maybe Galina can contribute some earnings to the family budget too. Let’s support each other.”
I looked at her, moved.
“Would you help me?” I asked.
“Of course. Maybe you’ll teach me something new too.”
Three weeks later, we were on the cottage land. Measuring, digging, planning.
“Where should I put the soil?” Nikita asked.
“By the canopy,” I smiled.
Even he was starting to enjoy the process.
“This greenhouse will be perfect,” Anna Viktorovna said, her eyes sparkling.
Mikhail arrived shortly after, wiping sweat from his brow.
“The new minibus is coming next week,” he announced. “Loan got approved.”
“Congratulations!” I said warmly.
He looked at me and nodded.
“You know… I didn’t understand at first. But now, seeing you and my wife so involved—maybe there’s something to all this flower business after all.”
Later that evening, Nikita joined me on the porch.
“Gal… I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t understand how important this was to you. But now I see it. And I want to support you.”
I reached for his hand.
The sky above was blooming with stars. And I, for the first time in years, felt like I was blooming too.
