“How dare you get pregnant?” the ex-husband demanded angrily of his wife.
“So you’re choosing your pride over our family?” Marina threw the medical report onto the table.
“How delightful, now you’re going to blackmail me?” Viktor smirked. “Very original.”
“Vitya, it’s just a procedure! Millions of couples do this!”
“Millions of idiots jump off bridges, should I do it too?”
Three months earlier, Marina had been sitting in the doctor’s office, trying not to show how her hands were trembling. She and Viktor had been trying for a baby for half a year, and month after month the test showed only one line. A creeping fear had settled in her heart—what if something was wrong with her? What if she would never become a mother? Family had always been her dream, and the thought of childlessness frightened her more than any illness.
Viktor drummed his fingers on the armrest, and though his face looked calm, it was obvious he was just as nervous, hiding it behind a façade of composure.
“Azoospermia,” the doctor pronounced. “A complete absence of sperm. A congenital condition.”
Marina blinked in confusion, not immediately grasping the meaning of the words. But one look at her husband’s face told her everything—this was bad news. Very bad.
Viktor turned pale and slumped back in his chair as if struck. One thought pulsed in his head: Defective. You’re a defective man. All those months he had secretly blamed his wife for their failure to conceive, but it turned out the problem was with him. And now Marina knew the truth. She knew he wasn’t like other men.
“Is it treatable?” Marina squeezed her husband’s hand.
She hadn’t fully grasped the scale of the problem yet, but she was already imagining having to explain to her parents why there were no grandchildren yet, or making excuses to her friends, who one after another were going on maternity leave.
“Unfortunately, no,” the doctor shook his head. “The seminiferous tubules didn’t develop properly. This occurs in about one percent of men, the causes are not fully understood. I realize how difficult this is for a young couple to accept…”
He paused, looking at Marina’s bewildered face.
“But there is IVF with donor material. It’s a completely safe procedure that allows a woman to give birth to a healthy child.”
Marina clung to those words like a lifeline. That meant not everything was lost! That meant she could still become a mother!
But Viktor, at that moment, felt such a surge of rage that he barely restrained himself from storming out. That doctor was calmly suggesting his wife get pregnant by another man! And saying it as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world!
“The success rate of IVF pregnancies reaches forty percent on the first attempt,” the doctor continued. “Many couples choose this path. The child will be genetically related to the mother, and you will raise it together…”
“Thank you, we’ll think about it,” Viktor cut him off and stood abruptly.
The doctor’s words struck directly at his sorest spot—his manhood. It meant that any random man could give his wife what he could not. And now he was supposed to accept it and even be grateful?
“Vitya, wait!”
Marina couldn’t understand why her husband reacted so sharply. The doctor had offered a solution! A way for them to still have a child!
“What’s there to think about? Another man’s child is not my child. Period.”
The doctor observed the scene with professional sympathy—he had witnessed countless conversations like this. Men almost always reacted painfully.
“Vitya, but we wanted a family!” Marina tried to hold onto his sleeve. “I want to have a baby! It didn’t work with you, but there is another way!”
“Another way?” Viktor spun toward her. “You want me to raise another man’s child? To look at him every day and remember that I’m defective?”
“No! I just want us to have a family!”
“Then go to this doctor, let him pick you a donor! Maybe handsome, intelligent, athletic—everything your husband lacks!”
The doctor cleared his throat delicately:
“I understand this is shocking news. Take some time to think. And remember—” he addressed Marina directly, “the decision is always yours. Both of yours.”
“Let’s get out of here!” Viktor grabbed his wife’s hand and practically dragged her out of the office.
On the way home, Marina tried to calm him down:
“Vitya, I know this is hard… but we’ll manage! The important thing is that I can still have a baby!”
“Not by me.”
“But I’ll be raising the child! And so will you! He’ll be ours in upbringing!”
“Shut up,” Viktor stared out the car window. “Just shut up.”
And Marina did, realizing that any words now would only make things worse.
That evening, Elena Pavlovna, Viktor’s mother, came over. Marina was setting the table and silently thanked fate that there was someone who might be able to influence her stubborn son. An hour earlier she had called her mother-in-law and told her about the diagnosis—Viktor himself had allowed it, saying, “Call whoever you want, sooner or later they’ll all find out anyway.”
“Mom, just spare me your advice,” Viktor said as he opened a bottle of wine with trembling hands. He poured himself a full glass and downed it in one gulp.
“Son, Marina is right. The child she carries will be yours in upbringing.”
When Marina had phoned her a couple of hours earlier, stumbling over her words as she explained the situation, Elena Pavlovna had collapsed into a chair, unable to believe what she was hearing. Her boy would never be able to become a father! At first her head was filled only with chaos and pity for her son.
But once the shock passed, she began to think more clearly. Marina was a young woman who dreamed of children. Elena Pavlovna remembered all too well how, in her youth, she had longed for motherhood—how she had wanted to cradle babies and teach them their first words. If Marina were deprived of that, she would hardly remain in the marriage. Which meant her son would lose his beloved wife and still be left without a family.
“Wonderful! Now even my own mother is against me,” Viktor slammed his glass down so hard that the wine splashed onto the tablecloth. “What’s next, should we hold a vote? And you told her everything! Now what, will you announce my problems to the whole town?”
“Vitya, I asked for your permission! You yourself said—call!” Marina looked at him helplessly.
“Vitya, stop working yourself up!” Marina slapped her palm against the table.
She pitied her husband, but his behavior frightened her. She had never seen him so unrestrained before.
“What else am I supposed to do? You’ve conspired against me!”
“We want your happiness,” Elena Pavlovna shook her head.
She understood: her son’s happiness lay in having a family. And a family, at least for Marina, was impossible without children. If her daughter-in-law were denied motherhood, sooner or later she would leave for someone who could give her a child.
“My happiness is not being forced to raise someone else’s children!” Viktor leapt up from the table. “You want a child, Marina? Then go, cheat on me! Make me a cuckold and give birth! Why bother with all this donor and hospital nonsense?”
“Viktor!” Elena Pavlovna gasped.
“Don’t pretend, Mom! You know perfectly well—what difference does it make, IVF or an affair? The result is the same—someone else’s child!”
Marina turned pale and looked away. The conversation was taking a horrible turn, and it was clear her husband needed time to come to terms with the blow to his pride.
“Vitya, today isn’t the time for such talk. You’re upset…”
“Upset?” Viktor laughed. “I’m just thrilled to find out I’m defective!”
Three months passed. Marina met her sister Anya in a café—she desperately needed support and advice. The talk with her husband and mother-in-law had changed nothing, and time kept slipping away.
“He’s just a stubborn mule!” Marina crumpled a napkin in her hands.
“Maybe he just needs more time?” Anya looked at her sister uncertainly.
When Marina told her about Viktor’s diagnosis, Anya had sat in silence for a long time, not knowing what to say. The situation seemed hopeless.
“It’s been three months! He won’t even discuss it!” Marina sobbed. “Every attempt to bring it up, he takes as a personal insult! I’m already afraid to even mention children!”
“Call Seryozhka—he’s his friend. Let him talk to him.”
Anya remembered how, a year ago, she herself had clashed with her husband, and it was only a heart-to-heart talk with her best friend that helped her find a way out.
“You think it’ll help?” Marina hesitated.
Airing family problems outside the home had always seemed wrong to her.
“It’s worth a try. Maybe a man-to-man talk is exactly what’s needed. Sergey could support him and at the same time explain that you’re not his enemy.”
Marina nodded. In the end, if a friend could influence Viktor and convince him to agree to IVF, then it was worth it.
A few days later Sergey came to Viktor’s office. They sat in the conference room.
“Vityok, don’t be angry with me or with Marina. She told me about your problem. I understand how hard it is, but you need to keep living. Look at the situation rationally.”
“Marina had no right!” Viktor swung toward his friend. “And I’ll say this right away—I will not raise someone else’s child! Seryoga, don’t you get it? Marina can’t get pregnant from me. Nature has been cruel to me, but that’s reality. No!” Viktor slammed his fist on the table. “No other man’s child!”
“But you love your wife. Think about that.”
“There’s nothing to think about. My decision is final.”
“Vityok, you’re a fool.”
“And you too? What next, should I post an ad: ‘Help convince an idiot’?”
“Marina loves you. She wants a family.”
“Let her want. I want plenty of things too. For example, for everyone to leave me alone,” he said, because he was exhausted by the pressure from all sides. He felt everyone was trying to force him into someone else’s choice, without caring about his own fears and pain.
“You’ll lose her,” Sergey said, seeing that his friend’s stubbornness was leading straight to the collapse of his marriage. He understood that Marina would never resign herself to giving up motherhood, and that would be the end of their relationship.
“Brilliant logic! Either someone else’s kids, or divorce. Bravo!” Viktor had come to this conclusion himself, analyzing the situation. In his mind there were no compromises—only two extreme outcomes.
“That’s your choice, not hers,” Sergey defended Marina, knowing she was ready for any path to create a family, while Viktor flatly refused to meet her halfway.
“No, Seryoga, it’s all of you trying to make the choice for me!” He believed that everyone around him was trying to coerce him into a decision that went against his convictions.
Sergey realized there was no point continuing.
“All right, let’s talk about work then.”
“I don’t care.” Viktor stood. “Goodbye.”
Marina insisted on a family council—she wanted the support of Viktor’s relatives, hoping they could help change his mind. Deep down, she was preparing the ground for a final decision: if even Viktor’s parents couldn’t persuade him, then further struggle was pointless. His parents came, as well as Anya.
“Son, think it over,” Viktor’s father, Pavel Nikolaevich, said quietly. “Marina is a good woman.” He used the phrase “think it over” because he believed his son’s decision was unreasonable and destructive.
“Dad, at least you stay out of this!”
“Vitya, why are you being so selfish?” Anya asked gently.
“Oh, my wife’s sister has an opinion too! Why not invite the neighbors while we’re at it?” Viktor was furious that his private life had become the subject of discussion. Marina sat silently, searching for a way to soften the conflict but realizing her husband was in a highly aggressive state.
“VIKTOR!” Marina tried to speak gently but snapped. “Stop mocking everyone!” By “mocking,” she meant his dismissive attitude toward people who were sincerely trying to help.
“Mocking? You’ve staged a trial against me!” He saw it as a trial, not a search for a solution, because everyone present was against him.
“We’re trying to help!” his mother exclaimed, shocked by her son’s words. She looked at him with pain and incomprehension, feeling bitter disappointment in what he had become.
“You know what? To hell with all of you! My life—my rules!” Viktor refused to discuss the problem because he feared admitting his own vulnerability. He believed it concerned only him, ignoring his wife’s rights. He blamed Marina for organizing the meeting and planned simply to wait it out until everyone left him alone.
Viktor slammed the door. Marina covered her face with her hands.
“Don’t worry, dear,” said her mother-in-law. “He’s just confused.”
“Our son is distressed,” added Pavel Nikolaevich. “It’s just a stress reaction.”
When Viktor’s parents left, Anya hugged her sister.
“Marina, your husband is a backward-minded possessive. He’s just pathologically jealous.”
For two days Marina and Viktor didn’t speak. She chose not to provoke a scandal, waiting for her husband to say something—anything—but he lived in the house like a stranger, even cooking for himself.
At last Marina made up her mind and began to pack her things—she had concluded that life together had become unbearable.
“Where are you going?” Viktor noticed out of the corner of his eye what his wife was doing, but didn’t even look up from his laptop. In that moment he despised her, convinced she would inevitably seek out a man who could give her a child. Viktor was sure he no longer satisfied her as a husband, and that thought wounded his pride as a man.
“To Anya’s. I can’t stay here with you anymore.” She couldn’t—because the atmosphere in the house had turned toxic.
“The blackmail continues? Charming,” he said, convinced this was just a tactic, unable to believe his wife truly meant to leave him.
“This isn’t blackmail. This is the end,” Marina declared—the end of their marriage.
“So dramatic. No Oscar for that performance,” he sneered, trying to wound her as a shield against his own pain.
“You know what? You’re right. Other men’s children are awful. But living with you is even worse!” Marina had come to this conclusion after sleepless nights. She recalled how she had considered giving up on children altogether, but then remembered how Viktor once accused her of cheating with her colleague Andrey—simply because he had shown her sympathy.
She realized her husband’s jealousy was pathological, and that his refusal to have children was just another attempt to completely control her life. Most importantly, she understood that her husband didn’t love her.
“The door is where it’s always been,” Viktor said without trying to stop her, wanting to show he didn’t care, hoping she would be the first to give in.
Marina left, quietly closing the door behind her.
Six months passed. Viktor was sitting in a bar with Sergey.
“She filed for divorce,” Viktor turned his whiskey glass in his hand. He thought of the divorce with bitterness, but still believed he was in the right.
“And what did you expect?”
“That she’d come to her senses. Realize I was right.” He clung to his conviction, believing a man was not obliged to raise another man’s child—that it went against nature.
“Vityok, you’re an idiot.”
“Thanks for the support, friend!”
“She’s pregnant,” Sergey said, to show that Marina had found a way to be happy without Viktor.
Viktor froze—shock and rage flooded him at once. He thought only of betrayal.
“What? How?”
“She had IVF. Without you.”
“She had no right!” he exploded, still considering Marina his property. Anger boiled inside him, and he accused her of treachery.
“She did. You’ve been divorced for months now,” Sergey replied, inwardly glad for Marina, because she had realized her dream.
“It’s betrayal! She abandoned me in my darkest hour! She promised to always be with me, but her female instincts proved stronger! And IVF, really? She just slept with someone!”
Sergey looked at his friend with disgust. Viktor had finally revealed his true face.
After talking with Sergey, Viktor rushed to his former sister-in-law’s home. Climbing the steps, he thought about demanding explanations and forcing Marina to return to him.
Marina opened the door.
“How could you?!” he immediately accused her, convinced he was the wronged party.
“Leave, Viktor.”
“That’s my child too!” he insisted, unable to accept the idea that Marina could live without him.
“Since when? You said yourself—you wanted nothing to do with another man’s children.” Marina didn’t want to prolong the conversation, afraid to believe his sudden change of heart.
“But you’re my wife!”
“Not anymore. And I never will be again.”
Behind Marina appeared Elena Pavlovna. Seeing his mother, Viktor thought only of betrayal by those closest to him.
“Son, go. You destroyed everything yourself,” his former mother-in-law said. She believed he had brought this ending upon himself.
“Mom? You’re here?” Viktor was stunned that his mother had chosen his ex-wife’s side.
“I’ll be helping Marina. And you… you made your choice,” she said, because she now saw Marina as a daughter who needed support.
“This is a conspiracy!”
“No, Vitya. This is the consequence of your selfishness.” Marina shut the door.
Standing before the closed door, Viktor thought only that everyone had betrayed him. He saw himself as a victim of circumstance.
Elena Pavlovna did not abandon Marina, because in those months she had realized that her son’s divorce did not erase her own feelings for the young woman who had become close to her. She also blamed herself for not supporting Marina enough during the conflict with Viktor. By becoming godmother to the child, she felt she was correcting her mistake.
Pavel Nikolaevich came for the same reason—he had truly grown to love Marina as a daughter and wasn’t going to lose her because of his son’s stubbornness. For him, family was defined not by a stamp in a passport, but by human relationships.
Viktor stood in the corridor of the maternity ward, where he had come after his mother’s call. The day before, Elena Pavlovna had told him about the birth of Marina’s daughter, hoping it might change him. He hadn’t planned to go into the room—he only wanted to see them from a distance.
When he thought of himself as “behind the glass forever,” Viktor meant it literally and figuratively. It was his own choice. He had cut off his way back to family when he set an ultimatum and refused to retreat from it, even after the divorce. Now his parents had chosen Marina and her daughter, and he had become an outsider.
Shame and pride held him back from approaching Marina. Shame for what he had done, and pride that would not allow him to admit his mistake. He knew that after everything he had said, he had no right to ask for forgiveness.
In his empty apartment Viktor wandered through the rooms where Marina had once lived. Her things had long since disappeared, but in his mind he reconstructed where everything had stood. He thought about how he had gotten exactly what he wanted—complete independence from “other people’s” problems. Only now did he understand the price of that independence.
He did not pity himself, nor did he hate himself—he simply recognized the scale of the loss. Viktor realized that his stubborn principles had turned into emptiness. He had feared the responsibility of raising someone else’s child, and in the end he was left without his own family and had lost his parents’ respect.
Little Sofia had truly become family to all the Vinogradovs—except to the one who had been so afraid that blood ties mattered more than love. Now he sat alone, reflecting on the truth that family is not created by genes.
