“If you need it, then you buy gifts for your mother yourself. That woman has never once said a kind word to me, so you’ll have to manage without my help.”
Ksyusha, you won’t believe it! Mom has decided to celebrate her birthday in grand style! — Vitalya burst into the kitchen, waving his phone. — Fifty-nine is a solid age, after all!
Ksenia did not even lift her head from her laptop, continuing to sort through her work documents.
“And what’s so surprising about that? She celebrates in grand style every year!” she said, taking a sip of tea. “It’s not even an anniversary, but there’s always such pomp!”
“That’s not the point!” Vitalya sat down across from her and leaned forward. “She even made a gift list for all the guests! Can you imagine? A personal assignment for every relative! So they don’t give her useless nonsense, like people often do! Aunt Galya gets gold earrings, Uncle Styopa gets a sushi serving set—and not just any set, but the coolest one! And so on!”
Ksenia finally tore herself away from the laptop and looked intently at her husband.
“Vitaly, are you serious? This isn’t a birthday anymore. It’s some kind of auction! And what did she ‘assign’ to us?”
Vitalya was visibly nervous, tapping his fingers on the table.
“Well, you see… She gave me a special mission. She said her living room needs updating and that it’s time… time to replace the upholstered furniture!” He cleared his throat. “Completely!”
“Completely?” Ksenia slammed the laptop shut. “She has a three-seater sofa, two armchairs, and an ottoman in there! That’s a whole fortune!”
“I know, I know!” Vitalya spread his hands. “But you understand, she has already told everyone that her son is going to give her that gift! She said she had roughly picked out a set at Furniture Paradise for one hundred and fifty thousand! But that only includes the sofa and one armchair! Another armchair and the ottoman will have to be chosen separately!”
Ksenia slowly put her cup aside and crossed her arms over her chest.
“And what did you tell her?”
“Well… I said we would think about it,” Vitalya said uncertainly.
“We?” Ksenia raised her eyebrows. “Since when has my opinion mattered in conversations with your mother?”
Vitalya shifted awkwardly in his chair.
“Ksyusha, I have fifty thousand saved up, but that’s not enough!” He looked at his wife pleadingly. “Maybe you could add the rest? You have that bonus… and you had some savings too…”
Ksenia looked at her husband as if he had lost his mind.
“You are suggesting that I give one hundred thousand rubles to a woman who, in three years of our marriage, has never once called me by my name? A woman who introduces me to acquaintances right to my face as ‘that girl’ and her son’s ‘temporary fling’?”
“She’s just joking…” Vitalya muttered. “And besides, it’s not for her personally. It’s a gift…”
“Vitaly!” Ksenia leaned forward. “Last month, when we were at your mother’s for dinner, she asked you, right in front of me, whether it wasn’t time for you to find a ‘proper wife capable of giving birth to an heir.’ Have you forgotten that?”
“She was joking…” Vitalya looked away.
“A week ago she called you and said she had seen me with a colleague in a café and that, I quote, I ‘behave like a street whore.’ Was that a joke too?”
“Ksyusha, none of that matters!” Vitalya stood up and began pacing around the kitchen. “What matters is that I already promised! Do you understand? I gave my word!”
“You gave your word with your money, not mine!” Ksenia snapped. “You have fifty thousand? Then buy her something within that amount!”
“Ksyusha!” pleading notes appeared in Vitalya’s voice. “You don’t understand! She has already ordered the catalogue, chosen the model, the upholstery color! I can’t let her down!”
“But you can let me down?” Ksenia also stood up. “For three years I have endured neglect and insults, and I have never once said a word against you! But there is a limit! I will not give a single kopeck for a gift to someone who does not respect me!”
“That’s selfish!” Vitalya shook his head. “Plain female selfishness! I always congratulate your mother, by the way!”
“My mother does not demand such expensive birthday gifts from you and does not call you ‘that person’! She never asks for anything at all!” Ksenia raised her voice. “Moreover, when we visited my parents, they gave us a trip to the seaside, in case you’ve forgotten!”
“I haven’t forgotten!” Vitalya hissed. “But that’s not what we’re talking about now! I need this money, Ksyusha! I’ll pay you back, I promise!”
“No!” Ksenia picked up her laptop and headed toward the living room. “Don’t even think about it! If you need it, then you solve that problem yourself! I’m not taking part in this!”
“So that’s how it is?!” Vitalya shouted after her. “Fine! I’ll find a way!”
“Are you threatening me?” Ksenia turned around in the doorway. “Excellent! So your mother’s sofa is worth more than respect for your wife! Wonderful!”
The morning began with tense silence. Vitalya sat at the kitchen table, focused on his phone, while Ksenia made breakfast, trying not to meet his eyes. Yesterday’s conversation had left an unpleasant aftertaste.
“Ksyusha, maybe we should still discuss it again?” Vitalya finally broke the silence when his wife placed a plate of fried eggs in front of him. “I thought about it all night and realized we need to find a compromise!”
“What compromise?” Ksenia sat across from him with a cup of coffee. “Everything is perfectly clear here! You promised your mother a gift that you cannot afford financially! That is your problem, not mine!”
“But we’re family!” Vitalya put down his fork. “In a family, all problems are solved together!”
“Exactly!” Ksenia nodded. “Family! Is your mother part of our family? Has she ever treated me like part of the family?”
Vitalya sighed, preparing to make yet another argument, when his phone rang. “Mom” lit up on the screen.
“Hi, Mom!” he answered, casting a quick glance at his wife. “Yes, of course… What? Now? All right, I’ll wait!”
He put the phone down and looked at Ksenia guiltily.
“She’ll stop by in half an hour! She wants to show another catalogue and discuss the details!”
Ksenia silently stood up, gathered her cup, and headed toward the kitchen exit.
“Where are you going?” Vitalya called after her.
“To the bedroom. To work,” she answered curtly. “My deadlines are burning, and I have neither the desire nor the time to talk to Svetlana Mikhailovna!”
“But that’s rude!” Vitalya protested. “She’s coming here specially!”
“Rude is how she has treated me for the last three years!” Ksenia snapped. “My absence from the kitchen is self-defense! I don’t want to be the punching bag again!”
Exactly thirty minutes later, the doorbell rang. Svetlana Mikhailovna entered the apartment with the air of a queen arriving for an inspection in some remote province.
“Vitalik, darling!” she kissed her son on both cheeks, ignoring the need to take off her shoes. “I brought the catalogues! Three different stores, but the best option is at Furniture Paradise, just as I said!”
She walked into the kitchen, leaving tracks from her outdoor shoes on the floor, and spread glossy brochures across the table.
“And where is… that one?” She made an indistinct gesture with her hand. “Your…”
“Ksenia has a lot of work, Mom!” Vitalya replied, nervously glancing toward the bedroom. “Let’s look at what you picked!”
“Mm, work…” Svetlana Mikhailovna drawled with obvious sarcasm. “What could be more important than meeting your husband’s mother? But let’s not dwell on sad things! Look, this set! The perfect combination of color and shape!”
She jabbed her finger at a photo of a luxurious sofa with two matching armchairs.
“Mom, this is… a bit expensive,” Vitalya cautiously remarked when he saw the price tag.
“What do you mean, ‘a bit expensive’?” Svetlana Mikhailovna frowned. “Am I asking so much from my only son? At your age, your father had already bought me an apartment! And don’t look at the price—you can pay in installments!”
“But one hundred and ninety thousand…” Vitalya began.
“So what?” his mother interrupted. “You and that… that wife of yours have two salaries! Can’t you make your mother happy once a year?”
At that moment, the bedroom door opened, and Ksenia came into the kitchen. She calmly walked to the refrigerator, took out a bottle of water, and, without looking at her mother-in-law, said:
“Hello, Svetlana Mikhailovna.”
“There you are!” Svetlana Mikhailovna looked her daughter-in-law up and down appraisingly. “Maybe you’ll join the discussion? After all, it’s a family matter!”
“Thank you, but I’m not taking part in choosing the gift,” Ksenia replied calmly. “That is Vitaly’s business.”
“How are you not taking part?” her mother-in-law was astonished. “You’re his wife!”
“Exactly!” Ksenia looked her directly in the eyes for the first time. “I am your son’s wife, not your ATM!”
“Ksyusha!” Vitalya exclaimed. “What are you saying?”
“The truth, dear!” Ksenia headed toward the kitchen exit.
“What truth? It’s just…”
“If you need it, then you buy gifts for your mother yourself. That woman has never once said a kind word to me, so you’ll have to manage without my help!”
When the door closed behind Ksenia, Svetlana Mikhailovna sighed theatrically and shook her head.
“So that’s how she speaks about her husband’s mother! No, Vitalik, this is unacceptable! You must explain to your… I can hardly bring myself to call her that! But fine. To your wife that family values are sacred!”
“Yes, Mom!” Vitalya nodded obediently, but a shadow of doubt flickered in his eyes. “I’ll talk to her!”
After Svetlana Mikhailovna left, a suffocating tension hung over the apartment. Vitalya wandered from room to room, periodically approaching the bedroom door but never daring to enter. Finally, gathering his courage, he knocked.
“May I?” he asked, opening the door slightly.
Ksenia was sitting on the edge of the bed with her phone in her hands. When her husband appeared, she quickly locked the screen.
“Why are you asking? This is your room too,” she replied dryly.
Vitalya sat down beside her, keeping a little distance.
“Ksyusha, you put me in an awkward position in front of Mom,” he began. “Now she thinks that we…”
“That we what?” Ksenia interrupted him. “That we don’t agree on financial matters? We don’t! That I don’t want to spend my money on a person who despises me? That’s true!”
“Don’t say that!” Vitalya grimaced. “She doesn’t despise you. You two just have different views on life!”
Ksenia laughed, but there was no amusement in her laughter.
“Different views? Calling me a ‘temporary phenomenon’ in front of guests is different views? Criticizing my appearance, my work, my family—is that different views? Vitaly, open your eyes! Your mother hates me and is doing everything she can to destroy our marriage!”
Vitalya jumped up from the bed and began pacing around the room.
“You’re exaggerating! Yes, she can be harsh in what she says, but she wants what’s best for us!”
“For whom, ‘us’?” Ksenia asked. “For you, maybe? But definitely not for me and not for us as a couple! And you know what? I’m tired of it! For three years I kept silent while she humiliated me! For three years I smiled and endured her ‘harsh comments’! But enough! If you want to buy her a sofa, buy it! But without my money!”
“Where am I supposed to get a hundred thousand? Even one hundred and forty!” Vitalya cried out in despair. “I only have fifty!”
“That’s your problem!” Ksenia shrugged. “You can buy something cheaper! You can borrow from friends! You can take out a loan, finally!”
“A loan?” Vitalya stopped in the middle of the room. “That’s an idea…”
The next day Vitalya came home looking pleased and announced that he had taken out a consumer loan for two hundred thousand rubles. Ksenia listened to the news silently, then calmly said:
“I hope you understand that you will be paying it off yourself. I am not going to spend my money on a gift for your mother.”
“But we’re family!” Vitalya protested. “We have a shared budget!”
“No, Vitaly!” Ksenia shook her head. “From this moment on, we have separate budgets! You made the decision to take out a loan on your own, without my consent, so you bear the responsibility yourself!”
Vitalya wanted to object, but Ksenia had already left the room.
A week later, Svetlana Mikhailovna’s birthday arrived. Ksenia hesitated for a long time about whether to attend the celebration, but in the end she decided that her absence would cause even more problems. She bought a bouquet of flowers—modest but beautiful—and went with Vitalya.
Svetlana Mikhailovna’s apartment was full of guests. Relatives, friends, colleagues—everyone had expensive gifts, just as expected. Vitalya solemnly handed his mother an envelope with the receipt for the new furniture. Svetlana Mikhailovna beamed and hugged her son.
“Now that’s what a real man is!” she exclaimed, showing the receipt to the guests. “My son always knows how to make his mother happy!”
When Ksenia’s turn came, she handed over the bouquet and modestly congratulated her mother-in-law. Svetlana Mikhailovna took the flowers with two fingers, as if they were something unpleasant.
“And that’s all?” she looked at her daughter-in-law questioningly. “No gift?”
“The flowers are my gift,” Ksenia replied calmly.
“How sweet!” Svetlana Mikhailovna hissed through her teeth. “Daughters-in-law should give gold, not weeds from the roadside!”
One of the guests tried to defuse the atmosphere with a joke, but Svetlana Mikhailovna was already addressing the others:
“Do you see how lucky I am with my daughter-in-law? My son buys furniture, and she brings a little bouquet! And who is the real member of the family after that?”
Vitalya stood beside her, eyes lowered, and said nothing. Ksenia felt a cold resolve growing inside her. She looked at her husband, expecting him to stand up for her, but he continued stubbornly studying the pattern on the carpet.
At that moment, Ksenia understood that her marriage to Vitalya had come to an end. Not because of his mother, and not even because of the loan. Because of his cowardice and his inability to be on her side when it truly mattered.
All evening she silently watched as Svetlana Mikhailovna accepted congratulations and praised her son’s gift. She watched Vitalya smile at his mother and ignore the barbed remarks aimed at his wife. And with every minute, her decision became firmer.
Vitalya and Ksenia returned home in complete silence. Sitting in the taxi, Ksenia looked out the window at the lights of the night city flashing past and replayed the events of the past weeks in her mind. Her decision had fully ripened.
The next morning, after waiting for Vitalya to leave for work, Ksenia called a lawyer she had found through a colleague a week earlier. It took her less than an hour to clarify all the details about the divorce process and property division.
“The loan is registered only in your husband’s name?” the lawyer clarified, listening carefully to her story.
“Yes, entirely in his name,” Ksenia confirmed. “I did not give consent and did not sign any documents.”
“Excellent. If you can prove that the money was spent not on family needs but on a gift for a third party without your consent, then the loan will remain solely his obligation.”
After the conversation, Ksenia got to work. She gradually transferred her savings to a separate account, gathered important documents, and photographed valuable items in the apartment.
Vitalya, absorbed in his problems with paying off the loan, noticed nothing. The first payment turned out to be larger than he had expected, and now he was struggling to make ends meet. Several times he tried to talk to Ksenia about the “family budget,” but each time he received a firm refusal.
Three weeks after Svetlana Mikhailovna’s birthday, Ksenia decided it was time to put an end to everything. She cooked dinner, set the table, and waited for her husband to return. When Vitalya came home, a bottle of wine and two glasses were standing on the table.
“Are we celebrating something?” he asked in surprise, embracing his wife. “Have you changed your mind about the loan?”
Ksenia gently pulled away and pointed to a chair.
“Sit down. We need to talk.”
Vitalya became wary, but sat down, never taking his eyes off her.
“I am filing for divorce,” Ksenia said calmly. “And this is not an impulsive decision. I have been thinking about it for the past few weeks.”
“What?” Vitalya jumped up. “Are you serious?”
“Yes,” Ksenia remained unshaken. “Because you chose a side in our marriage. And it wasn’t mine.”
“What side? What are you talking about?” Vitalya muttered in confusion.
“I’m talking about the fact that in three years your mother has not missed a single chance to humiliate me, and you have never once defended me. I’m talking about how, when it came to choosing between my comfort and her whims, you chose her. I’m talking about how you took out a loan without my consent, knowing I was against it and that I would not pay it off.”
“But all of this is…”
“Trivial?” Ksenia interrupted him. “No, Vitaly. These are not trivial things. This is a pattern of your behavior. And I no longer want to be part of it.”
“You can’t just leave!” Vitalya raised his voice. “What about our apartment? What about the loan?”
“The apartment belongs to me,” Ksenia reminded him. “I inherited it from my aunt before our wedding, in case you suddenly forgot. And the loan is solely your responsibility. You took it without my consent, for a gift to your mother, not for the needs of our family.”
Vitalya turned pale, realizing that he had trapped himself.
“You… you thought everything through?” he finally said.
“Yes,” Ksenia nodded. “The divorce papers are already ready to be filed. I’ll give you one week to pack your things and find a place to live.”
“One week?” Vitalya exclaimed. “Where am I supposed to find housing in a week? And how will I pay the loan?”
“Those are your problems,” Ksenia shrugged. “Maybe your mother will take you in. After all, she now has a new luxurious sofa you can sleep on.”
A month later, the divorce was officially finalized. Just as the lawyer had predicted, the court left the loan entirely on Vitaly, recognizing that it had not been taken out for family needs. Ksenia kept the apartment and all her savings.
Vitalya really did move in with his mother. Svetlana Mikhailovna welcomed her son with open arms, constantly repeating, “I told you she was no match for you!” But Svetlana Mikhailovna’s enthusiasm quickly faded when she realized that her son was not only short on money because of the loan, but also unable to help her financially.
And the luxurious sofa that had caused all the problems turned out to be beautiful but extremely uncomfortable for sleeping. Every night, tossing and turning on that designer nightmare, Vitalya thought about how dearly his desire to please his mother had cost him.
As for Ksenia, freed from a toxic relationship, she felt real peace for the first time in a long while. She could finally manage her life and finances without guilt or excuses.
“If you need it, then you buy gifts for your mother yourself. That woman has never once said a kind word to me, so you’ll have to manage without my help!” — this phrase became a kind of motto for her new life, where there was no room for forced compromises or silent endurance of other people’s insults.