Olga got home from work around eight in the evening and set her bag down in the hallway. Her legs ached after a full day at the office, but the tiredness was something she had gotten used to. She washed up in the bathroom, then headed to the kitchen, where Sergey was already heating up dinner.
“How was your day?” her husband asked, not turning around.
“It was fine. I’m just tired.”
Olga poured herself a glass of water and sat down at the table. Sergey placed a plate of pasta and a cutlet in front of her. Simple food, nothing fancy. That’s how they’d lived for the last two years—saving every penny, cutting all unnecessary expenses. An apartment of their own. Their own place. That had been Olga’s number one priority since the day she got married.
“Mom called,” Sergey said as he sat down across from her. “She’s inviting us to dinner on Saturday.”
Olga immediately felt her shoulders tense up. Visits to Vera Pavlovna were always a test. Not that her mother-in-law started outright fights—no. She was subtler, making hints, comparisons, or asking innocent questions.
“Again?” Olga put down her fork. “We were just there two weeks ago.”
“So what? She’s our mom. She misses us.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t miss me.”
Sergey sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Olga knew that gesture by heart. That meant here we go again.
“Olya, don’t start. Mom just worries about us. That’s normal.”
“Worries?” Olga gave a little laugh. “She asks me every single time when I’ll finally decide to have a child. Like I’m some kind of… I don’t know, selfish childless person.”
“She just wants grandkids. It’s only natural at her age.”
Olga didn’t reply. Arguing was useless. Sergey always took his mother’s side, always found an excuse for her words. Olga just kept her feelings bottled up and stayed silent.
On Saturday, they arrived at Vera Pavlovna’s right at six. Her mother-in-law welcomed them at the door with a smile and a kiss on the cheek. Inside, Yulia and her husband Arseny were already sitting down. Sergey’s sister looked happy and relaxed, as usual.
“Come in, come in!” Vera Pavlovna bustled about. “The table’s all set. Olya, help me bring out the salad, be a dear.”
Olga grabbed the bowl of salad and headed to the kitchen. Vera Pavlovna followed, chatting about a new recipe. Olga only half-listened, busy setting the plates on the table.
“By the way,” her mother-in-law lowered her voice, “remember Marina, my friend? Well, her daughter just had her second child. Can you imagine, she’s only twenty-eight. Good for them.”
Olga pressed her lips together and kept serving the salad. There it was. It had begun.
“And it doesn’t matter they’re renting an apartment,” Vera Pavlovna went on. “They have kids. And what’s the most important thing in life? Family, children. Everything else will come.”
“Everyone has their own priorities,” Olga said quietly.
“Sure, of course,” her mother-in-law smiled, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “But time is slipping by, Olenka. You’re already thirty-one. Sergey is thirty-five. You’re not getting any younger.”
Olga set the salad on the table and walked out of the kitchen without replying. In the living room, Sergey was talking with Arseny about football while Yulia scrolled through her phone.
Dinner went by as usual—with chats about friends, work, and ever-rising prices at the store. Olga ate in silence, only chiming in now and then. Vera Pavlovna started talking about her friend’s pregnant daughter, then switched to the neighbor who just had triplets. Julia joined in, sharing stories about her coworker who has two children.
“That’s exactly right,” Vera Pavlovna nodded. “A woman should have children while she’s still young. Otherwise, it might be too late.”
Olga let out a slow breath and looked at Sergey. Her husband was chewing his cutlet, pretending not to hear anything.
“Are you two planning to keep waiting?” Julia asked Olga. “You can always buy an apartment later. Kids come first.”
“We decided to make sure we have a good place to live first,” Olga replied. “Children can come later.”
“Always about living conditions,” Vera Pavlovna grumbled. “In our days, no one waited for perfect conditions. We had kids and managed somehow. Look, everyone turned out fine.”
Olga stood up from the table and went to the bathroom. Her hands were shaking. She ran the water, washed her face with cold water, and looked in the mirror. Pale face, dark circles under her eyes. She really was tired. Tired of work, tired of saving every penny, tired of the constant reproaches.
When they got home, Olga went straight to bed. Sergey spent a while longer watching TV in the living room. He finally came to bed around midnight, quietly lying down beside her.
“Are you awake?” Sergey whispered.
“No.”
“Olya, don’t pay attention to my mother. She just worries about us.”
“She worries,” Olga repeated into the darkness. “Of course.”
“Really, she doesn’t mean any harm.”
Olga stayed silent. There was no point in talking. Sergey never really understood how hard it was for her to hear those constant hints over and over again.
Months went by. Olga kept working, saving, denying herself everything. No new dresses, no coffees out, no trips. Sergey tried to put money away too, though he sometimes complained about how hard this way of life was.
“Maybe we could at least go to the movies?” her husband suggested one evening. “Come on, we can’t be living like this forever…”
“Sergey, we’re saving up. Just a little more and we’ll have enough for the down payment.”
“I get it! But life is now, not just sometime in the future.”
Olga quietly returned to her computer. For the third hour straight, she scanned apartment listings. Every evening after work, she’d go to viewings. Sergey sometimes went with her, but more often he stayed home, saying he was too tired.
At the beginning of autumn, Olga finally found what she was looking for. A small one-bedroom apartment in a new part of town at the edge of the city. The street was quiet, there was a park nearby, and public transport made it easy to get downtown. The price was right. The place had just been renovated, and they could even keep the furniture from the previous owners.
“Sergey, look!” Olga showed her husband the photos on her phone. “This is it. Our apartment.”
Sergey flipped through the photos and nodded.
“Not bad. It’s small, though.”
“But it’s ours. And we have enough money.”
“Alright, go ahead and start the paperwork.”
Olga felt something inside her relax, as if she was finally able to breathe out after holding her breath for ages. Their own apartment. No more renting, no more landlords. Their home.
She started gathering paperwork, calling realtors, and setting up the deal. Sergey helped, but without much excitement. Olga didn’t pay any attention to that. What mattered most was that the goal was so close.
And then Vera Pavlovna called.
“Seryozhenka,” Olga heard her mother-in-law’s voice on the phone, “I have news! I’ve decided to celebrate my birthday. Sixty years is a big milestone. I want to bring the whole family together.”
Sergey was loudly agreeing, making promises, offering congratulations. Olga sat on the couch, flipping through the sales contract.
“Mom wants to throw a birthday party,” Sergey said after hanging up. “She says she’ll rent a restaurant and invite guests.”
“That’s nice,” Olga replied absentmindedly.
A few days later, Vera Pavlovna invited them over for dinner again. This time, there was a specific reason—to talk about the birthday party. Yulia and Arseny came too. Everyone gathered at the table, and Vera Pavlovna brought out a notebook with her notes.
“Here’s the plan,” the mother-in-law began. “I’ve already picked a restaurant. It’s a good one right in the city center. There will be about fifty guests—family, friends, former colleagues.”
“Mom, that’s going to be pretty expensive,” Sergey said carefully.
“Well yes, of course it’s expensive. But this only happens once in a lifetime,” Vera Pavlovna smiled. “That’s why I thought the family could help. Together we can make it work.”
Olga lifted her head from her plate, sensing something odd in her mother-in-law’s tone.
“How much will it cost?” Yulia asked.
“Well, about four hundred thousand. Maybe a little more. Depends on the menu.”
Sergey whistled in surprise.
“That’s a lot of money.”
“Sergey, you and Olya have been saving up,” Vera Pavlovna said, turning to her daughter-in-law. “So help out. You can buy your apartment later; it’s not going anywhere.”
Olga froze. For about five seconds she just stared at her mother-in-law in silence, trying to figure out if she’d heard her right.
“Excuse me, what?” Olga finally managed to say.
“What’s so confusing?” Vera Pavlovna spread her hands. “You’ve saved up money. You’ve been putting it aside. So pay for the party. We’re family, Olenka. We’re supposed to help each other.”
“We saved for an apartment,” Olga said slowly. “We spent two years saving.”
“So what? You’ll buy the apartment later. But the birthday is now. Or do you think Sergey’s mother doesn’t deserve a proper celebration?”
Yulia nodded in agreement.
“Mom’s right. It’s not something that happens every day. We need to do it properly.”
Olga looked at Sergey. Her husband stayed silent, staring down at his plate.
“Sergey,” Olga called him quietly. “Say something.”
“Well…” He looked up at her. “Maybe Mom’s right? A celebration is important. We can buy the apartment a couple months later. It’s not the end of the world.”
Olga felt her breath catch. She slowly put her fork down and leaned back in her chair.
“Are you serious?” she asked. “Two years. We’ve been saving every penny for two years. I’ve given up everything—forgoing vacations, new clothes, even going out to cafés. I worked overtime just to earn more. And you’re asking me to give all that money to pay for your mother’s birthday?”
“Olya, don’t make it such a big deal,” Sergey winced. “It’s not like she’s a stranger. She’s family.”
“That’s MY money!” Olga raised her voice. “I earned it, I saved it, I denied myself everything!”
“But you’re Sergey’s wife,” Yulia interjected. “So you’re part of our family now, right? Or do you think we’re strangers to you?”
Olga stood up abruptly. Her hands trembled, her face was burning.
“My money isn’t for your family! If you want a celebration—pay for it yourselves.”
Vera Pavlovna raised her eyebrows, Yulia’s mouth fell open, and Arseny awkwardly coughed. Sergey jumped up after his wife.
“Olya, what’s wrong with you? Calm down!”
“Calm down?” Olga spun to her husband. “Did you hear what she said? She’s demanding I give away money I’ve been saving for two years! For an apartment! For our home!”
“Wait a minute, Mom’s not demanding, she’s asking. There’s a difference.”
“Sergey, your mother isn’t asking. She’s laying down the law. And as usual, you’re supporting her.”
“Because she’s right!” Sergey raised his voice. “This is a milestone birthday! Sixty happens once in a lifetime! And you’re acting like… like a stingy person!”
Olga froze. Stingy. He called her stingy.
“Olya, that’s not what I meant…”
“No, that’s exactly what you meant.” Olga’s voice became calm and cold. “You think I’m greedy because I don’t want to spend my savings on someone else’s celebration.”
“But it’s my mother!”
“So what? Does that mean she automatically owns my money?”
Vera Pavlovna stood up from the table. Her face was flushed.
“Just look at her, Seryozha, the wife you’ve got! I always knew she was selfish. Always thinking of herself. Doesn’t want to have kids, and now she denies her husband’s mother a celebration. Shameful!”
“Shameful?” Olga took a step toward her mother-in-law. “You’ve reproached me for not having kids for years. Compared me to other women. Hinted I’m a bad wife. And now you want my money, too? Have you ever once asked how I feel? Have you ever once supported me?”
“I don’t have to support you! You’re my son’s wife, you should respect his family!”
“And you should respect me!” Olga shouted. “I am not an ATM! I’m not a servant! I am a person who has the right to her own life and her own choices!”
Sergey grabbed his wife’s arm.
“Olya, that’s enough. You’re going too far.”
Olga yanked her arm free.
“I’m going too far? Really? Where were you these past two years, when your mother was on my case? Where were you when she taunted me for not having kids? You stayed silent. Always silent. Because it’s easier to agree with her than defend your wife.”
“Olya…”
“No, Sergey. That’s it. I’m tired. Tired of putting up with this, tired of staying quiet, tired of always being the one to blame.”
Olga turned and left Vera Pavlovna’s apartment. She went down the stairs, walked outside, and only then realized she’d forgotten her bag. She didn’t want to go back. She took out her phone and called a taxi.
At home, Olga silently packed her things. Sergey returned an hour later, slamming the door loudly.
“What are you doing?” her husband asked. “Do you even realize how you acted?”
“I do.” Olga kept folding clothes into her suitcase. “And I’m leaving.”
“Where do you think you’re going? Don’t be ridiculous.”
“To my mother’s.” Olga zipped her bag and turned to her husband. “I’m leaving you, Sergey. Because you’re not a husband. You’re just your mother’s son, who never grew up.”
“Olya, come on. This is silly. All of this over just one conversation.”
“Just one?” Olga scoffed. “Sergey, this has been going on for years. Your mother constantly humiliates me. And you stay silent. Or worse, you take her side.”
“But she’s my mother!”
“And I’m your wife! Your wife! Or do I mean less to you than she does?”
Sergey stayed silent. And that silence was all she needed to hear.
Olga grabbed her bag, documents, and phone. She left the apartment and quietly closed the door behind her. Sergey didn’t come after her.
Maria Viktorovna saw her daughter at the doorstep. One look was enough to know something serious had happened. Her mother hugged Olga, led her inside, and sat her down on the couch.
“Tell me everything,” Maria Viktorovna said softly.
Olga told her everything. About the constant reproaches, the birthday, the demands for money, Sergey’s words. Her mother listened in silence, only nodding occasionally.
“So what now?” Maria Viktorovna asked once her daughter finished.
“I don’t know.” Olga wiped her eyes. “I think I’ll get a divorce.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I can’t do this anymore, Mom. I’ve put up with so much, stayed silent for so long. And he never even tried to understand me.”
Maria Viktorovna hugged her daughter even tighter.
“Then do what you think is right. I’m with you.”
A week later, Sergey showed up at Maria Viktorovna’s. He apologized, said he understood now, promised to talk to his mother. Olga listened, shaking her head.
“Sergey, you still don’t get it,” she said. “You’re only apologizing because I left. If I’d stayed, nothing would’ve changed. You’d keep defending your mother, and I’d keep suffering.”
“No, I really do understand! Let’s go home and talk it all through.”
“No.”
“Olya, please…”
“No, Sergey. I’ve filed for divorce.”
Her husband turned pale.
“Are you serious?”
“Absolutely.”
Sergey tried to talk his wife out of it, but Olga stood firm. She was tired. Tired of the endless struggle, of her husband’s silence, of her mother-in-law’s constant criticism.
The divorce was finalized three months later. Sergey hoped that Olga would change her mind, but she never did. He never claimed their savings.
Olga bought herself a place of her own. Small, but hers. She moved in at the end of autumn, as the rain fell outside. Maria Viktorovna helped her unpack, hang curtains, and arrange the furniture.
“How are you?” her mother asked, pouring tea in the kitchen.
“I’m good,” Olga replied, looking out the window. “Really good. For the first time in a long time, I feel at peace.”
Sergey tried calling a few more times. He said that Vera Pavlovna admitted her mistakes, that the family missed her, that he wanted to fix things. Olga listened and refused. She didn’t want to go back to a life where her opinion never mattered.
That evening, after her mother left, Olga sat down on the couch in her new apartment. Silence. No reproaches, no hints, no tension. Just her, her home, her life.
Olga took out her phone and opened a photo of the apartment she’d saved two years before, as motivation, back when she first started saving up. She did it. On her own. Without any help or support from her husband, without his family’s approval.
The rain was still falling outside. Olga wrapped herself in a blanket and closed her eyes. For the first time in years, she felt truly free. And that feeling was worth everything.