“Do you seriously think I’m going to live in the same apartment as your mother?”
“Do you seriously think I’m going to live in the same apartment as your mother?!” Galina’s voice trembled with barely restrained emotion when her husband presented her with this “joyful” news over dinner.
Anton put down his fork and looked at his wife as if she had said something indecent.
“Galya, it’s temporary. Just until Mom finds herself a smaller apartment. A couple of months at most.”
“A couple of months?” Galina laughed nervously. “Your mother ‘temporarily’ stayed with us for six months last summer! And every single day I heard that my borscht didn’t have enough salt, that I washed the floors wrong, and that bed linen should be ironed on both sides!”
“Don’t exaggerate,” Anton grimaced. “Mom just wants to help.”
“Help?” Galina got up from the table. “You know what? When someone wants to help, they ask whether help is needed. They don’t burst into the kitchen at six in the morning shouting that I store grains incorrectly!”
The couple had been married for three years. The first year had felt like a fairy tale: Anton was attentive and caring, they made plans and dreamed about having children. But then his father unexpectedly died of a heart attack, and his mother-in-law, Nina Petrovna, was left alone.
From that moment on, their life turned into endless visits, calls, and “urgent” problems that only her beloved son could solve. Galina tried to be understanding—she herself had lost her father in her youth and knew how difficult it was. But her understanding gradually melted away under the pressure of constant criticism.
“Galya, she’s my mother,” Anton tried to take his wife’s hand, but she pulled away. “I can’t abandon her.”
“Am I asking you to abandon her?” Galina protested. “I’m asking for only one thing—that we have our own life! Our own family! That I can come home and not be afraid your mother-in-law will start another scandal because I bought the wrong sausage!”
“You’re being dramatic…”
“Dramatic?” Galina took out her phone. “Do you want me to show you the messages from your mother? Here, look: ‘Galina, why did Antosha come home late yesterday? Did you two have a fight? Maybe I should come over and talk to you?’ And it’s like this every day! Every single day!”
Anton remained silent. He knew his wife was right, but admitting it meant going against his mother. And that was something he could not do. After his father’s death, he felt obligated to take care of her, protect her, and fulfill her every wish.
“Listen,” he began conciliatorily. “Let’s try it. If it becomes completely unbearable, we’ll figure something out.”
“Figure something out?” Galina shook her head. “Anton, your mother has already told the neighbor that she’s moving in with us! The neighbor sympathized with me in the elevator today! Do you understand? She has already decided everything without even asking us!”
“So what? Let her live here for a while. We’re not monsters.”
“No, we’re not monsters. But I’m a human being too! I have the right to personal space, to peace in my own home!”
“It will be her home too,” Anton suddenly said harshly.
Galina froze.
“What did you say?”
“I said that Mom has the right to live here. I’m her son. This is her home too.”
“No,” Galina took a step back. “This is our home. Yours and mine. We bought it together, registered it during our marriage. Your mother has nothing to do with it.”
“Formally, yes. But morally…”
“Morally, she has no right to turn my life into hell!” Galina shouted. “I’m tired, do you understand? Tired of justifying why I work instead of sitting at home! Tired of hearing that I’m a bad housewife! Tired of your mother-in-law sticking her nose into our bedroom and checking whether it’s clean!”
“She just cares…”
“She controls! Those are different things, Anton!”
The doorbell rang. Galina flinched—she recognized that demanding ring. Three short rings and one long one. Her mother-in-law.
“I told you she was coming for dinner today,” Anton muttered guiltily.
“No, you didn’t,” Galina replied wearily.
Anton went to open the door, and Galina quickly went into the kitchen. She needed to calm down, pull herself together. After all, she was an adult; she could get through one evening.
“Galochka!” her mother-in-law’s voice rang out. “You look so pale. Are you on one of those diets again?”
Nina Petrovna entered the kitchen, looked over the table, and frowned.
“Pasta for dinner? Antosha, you know flour is bad for you in the evening!”
“Mom, it’s fine,” Anton tried to defend his wife.
“How is it fine? Look at yourself—you’ve lost so much weight! Once I move in, we’ll immediately get your diet in order. Galochka, don’t take offense, but cooking is not your thing. But you’re good at building a career, well done.”
There was poorly concealed irony in her mother-in-law’s voice. She had never approved of the fact that her daughter-in-law worked, especially since she earned more than her son.
“Thank you,” Galina replied dryly.
“Oh, don’t mention it! By the way, I was talking to Lyudmila Ivanovna, remember her? Well, her daughter-in-law has already had her second child! And the first one is only three years old. That’s what I call a woman! And you two keep dragging your feet…”
“Mom,” Anton said warningly.
“What ‘Mom’? Am I saying something untrue? I’m already sixty-five, I want to babysit my grandchildren! And you’re all career, career… Galochka, maybe you should think about your priorities?”
Galina clenched her fists under the table. This topic was especially painful. She and Anton had been trying to have a child for a year, but so far without success. The doctors said everything was fine, they just needed to relax and wait. But how could she relax when her mother-in-law reminded her of her “biological clock” at every meeting?
“Nina Petrovna, this is Anton’s and my private matter,” Galina said as calmly as she could.
“Private?” her mother-in-law threw up her hands. “How can it be private when we’re talking about continuing the family line? In our time…”
“Mom, enough,” Anton suddenly cut her off sharply. “We’ll handle it ourselves.”
Nina Petrovna pursed her lips in offense.
“Well, now even my son is raising his voice at me. This is what I raised him for… I’m all alone, no one needs me…”
“Mom, come on…”
Galina got up from the table.
“I’m going for a walk. I have a headache.”
“There!” her mother-in-law exclaimed triumphantly. “Something always hurts with her! Either her head, or her stomach… So weak. When I was her age…”
Galina did not listen any further. She grabbed her jacket and rushed out of the apartment. A fine drizzle was falling outside, but she barely noticed. She walked wherever her feet carried her, trying to calm down.
How had it all come to this? When had her life turned into an endless struggle for the right to be herself? She loved Anton, she truly did. But with each passing day she felt that love melting under the weight of resentment and disappointment.
Her phone vibrated. A message from her husband: “Galya, come back. Mom has already left. I’m sorry.”
She smirked. Sorry. He always apologized after his mother’s visits. But nothing ever changed.
When Galina returned home, she found Anton in the living room. He was sitting on the couch watching some TV series.
“We need to talk,” she said, taking off her wet jacket.
“Galya, let’s do it tomorrow. I’m tired of these arguments.”
“No, not tomorrow. Now. Anton, this can’t go on anymore.”
He turned off the television and turned toward her.
“And what do you suggest?”
“Either your mother lives separately, or… or I’ll leave.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“I’m trying to save our marriage! Don’t you see what’s happening? We’re drifting away from each other! When was the last time we were alone together, without your mother?”
Anton thought for a moment.
“Well… last week we went to the movies.”
“And she called you every half hour! You couldn’t even finish the film!”
“She was worried…”
“She’s manipulating you! Anton, open your eyes! Your mother doesn’t want you to have your own family. She wants you to always remain her little boy!”
“Don’t you dare talk about my mother like that!”
“And don’t you dare pretend everything is fine!” Galina raised her voice too. “Do you know what she told me today when you went out to the store? That I’m not worthy of you! That you could have found a better wife!”
Anton said nothing.
“You knew?” Galina asked, shaken. “You knew she thought that about me?”
“She doesn’t mean it badly… She’s just worried about me.”
“And do you agree with her?”
“No! Of course not! Galya, I love you!”
“But not enough to protect me from your mother.”
They looked at each other from opposite sides of the room. It was as if an invisible wall had risen between them.
“You know what,” Galina said wearily. “I’m going to my parents’. For a week. I’ll think. And you think too—about what matters more to you.”
“Galya…”
“No, Anton. I’m tired of fighting. Tired of proving that I have the right to be respected in my own home. If nothing changes in a week… I’ll file for divorce.”
She went into the bedroom to pack her things. Anton remained sitting in the living room, stunned by her words. Divorce? But they loved each other…
But did they?
The following days passed for Anton as if in a fog. His mother moved in the very next day after Galina left.
“It’s good she left,” Nina Petrovna said as she arranged her things in their bedroom. “She’ll think carefully about her behavior. You can’t talk to your husband like that!”
“Mom, maybe you shouldn’t take our bedroom? There’s a guest room.”
“Antosha, what nonsense. It’s cold and uncomfortable there. This room is just right for me. By the way, we’ll need to change the curtains. These are too gloomy.”
Anton said nothing. He felt that something wrong was happening, but he could not understand exactly what.
That evening Galina called.
“How are you?” she asked.
“Fine. How are you?”
“Fine too… Anton, have you thought about what I said?”
“Galya, come on. Mom just…”
“She has already moved in?” his wife interrupted.
Anton was silent.
“I see,” bitterness sounded in Galina’s voice. “Into our bedroom?”
“How did you…”
“I’ve been fighting her for three years, Anton. I know all her tricks. What’s next? Will she start rearranging the furniture? Throw away my things because they ‘clutter the space’?”
“Don’t talk nonsense.”
“Call me when you decide what matters more to you—your mother or your wife.”
She hung up.
The next few days became a real revelation for Anton. His mother really did begin rearranging the apartment to suit herself. She threw away Galina’s favorite blanket because it was “old and faded,” rearranged the dishes in the kitchen because “it’s more convenient this way,” and even removed their wedding photo from its prominent place because “there’s no need to live in the past.”
“Mom, this is Galya’s and my apartment,” Anton tried to object.
“It used to be yours. But now she has abandoned you, and I’m taking care of you. By the way, Svetochka from the neighboring building got divorced. A sweet girl, very domestic. Maybe you two should meet?”
“Mom! I’m married!”
“To the one who ran away at the first difficulty? Antosha, open your eyes! A normal wife doesn’t abandon her husband!”
“She didn’t abandon me… She just…”
“What? Went to her parents to cry about what a wicked mother-in-law she has? I told you from the very beginning—she wasn’t your match. A careerist. Women like that don’t need a family; they only care about money and status.”
“Galya isn’t like that!”
“Oh really? Then why don’t you have children yet? At her age, I had already given birth to you and Mashka!”
Anton left the kitchen, slamming the door. In his own—now guest—room, he sat down on the bed and thought. His mother was wrong. Galya wanted children no less than he did. It just… had not happened yet. And she was very upset about it, even though she tried not to show it.
He remembered once finding her crying in the bathroom. She had just taken another pregnancy test—negative. She had hugged him and whispered, “Maybe your mother is right? Maybe I really wasn’t made for family?”
Back then he had comforted her, told her everything would work out. But now he understood: every word from his mother struck her most painful place. And he had allowed it to happen.
That evening he dialed his wife’s number.
“Galya, we need to talk. Seriously.”
“I’m listening.”
“Not on the phone. Can we meet? At that café where you like to have breakfast?”
“All right. Tomorrow at ten.”
Anton barely slept that night. He thought, remembered, analyzed. When had he and Galina become strangers? When had the lightness that existed at the beginning of their relationship disappeared?
The answer was obvious—from the moment his mother became a constant presence in their lives.
In the morning, Nina Petrovna greeted him with a question:
“Where are you going?”
“On business.”
“What kind of business on a Saturday? Are you going to her? Anton, don’t be stupid! Let her suffer a little longer and realize her guilt!”
“Mom, Galya is not guilty of anything.”
“What do you mean, not guilty? She abandoned you!”
“No, Mom. I betrayed her. I allowed you to turn her life into hell.”
“Anton! How dare you!”
“Mom, I love you. But I love my wife too. And if I have to choose… I will choose her.”
Nina Petrovna turned pale.
“You… you’re driving away your own mother?”
“I’m asking you to live separately. We will visit each other, I’ll help you. But we cannot live together.”
“Traitor!” his mother shouted. “I raised you, lost sleep over you, and this is what I get!”
“Mom, don’t…”
“It’s all because of her! She turned you against me!”
Anton silently left the apartment. His heart hurt—he did not want to hurt his mother. But he understood: if he did not make a choice now, he would lose Galina forever.
His wife was already waiting for him at the café. She did not look well—she had lost weight, and there were circles under her eyes.
“Hi,” Anton said, sitting down opposite her.
“Hi.”
They sat in silence, not knowing where to begin.
“Galya, forgive me,” Anton finally forced out. “I was a blind idiot.”
“Was?”
“Mom… she moved in. And I realized you were right. Right about everything.”
Galina raised her tired eyes to him.
“And now what?”
“I asked her to move out. I told her we can’t live together.”
“Really?” Hope flickered in his wife’s voice.
“Really. Galya, I don’t want to lose you. You are the most important thing in my life. And if I need to choose between you and Mom… I choose you. Our family.” Galina covered her face with her hands. Anton was afraid she was crying, but then she lifted her head—and smiled through her tears.
“You really told her that?”
“Yes. She… didn’t take it very well. But that’s her problem. Galya, come home. Please.”
“And what if she starts again? The calls, the visits, the reproaches?”
“I’ll set boundaries. Clear boundaries. We can see her once a week, no more. And only if you agree. No unexpected visits, no interference in our life.”
“Will you be able to withstand it? She’ll pressure you with guilt.”
“I will. Because now I understand—the real betrayal would be losing you.”
Galina reached her hand across the table. Anton squeezed her palm.
“Will we manage?” she asked.
“We definitely will.”
The road home felt endless. Galina was nervous—what if her mother-in-law was still there? But the apartment greeted them with silence. Nina Petrovna had left, leaving a note: “I hope you’ll be happy with this woman. When she leaves you, don’t come crying to me.”
“Charming, as always,” Galina smirked.
“Don’t pay attention. She’ll calm down.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“Then that’s her choice. Galya, I won’t let her destroy our life anymore. I promise.”
The following weeks were not easy. Nina Petrovna called several times a day, sometimes crying, sometimes threatening. She wrote long messages about what an ungrateful son she had. She tried to come over, but Anton remained firm—meetings only by prior agreement, and only in a neutral place.
Gradually, the hysterics subsided. His mother realized her son was serious. She began looking for an apartment and found a decent option not far from her friend.
“Maybe we should help her move?” Galina suggested.
Anton looked at her in surprise.
“Are you serious?”
“Well, why not? She is your mother, after all. And my mother-in-law. If we set healthy boundaries, maybe we’ll be able to improve the relationship.”
On moving day, Nina Petrovna behaved cautiously. She looked at her daughter-in-law from under her brows and answered in short phrases. But when Galina helped her unpack the dishes and neatly arrange them on the shelves, something softened in her eyes.
“Thank you,” she muttered.
“You’re welcome. Nina Petrovna, would you like some tea?”
Over tea, the conversation somehow began on its own. They talked about renovations, what curtains would be better, where to buy inexpensive but good furniture. Nina Petrovna even shared the recipe for her signature pie—for the first time in three years.
“Galya,” she said when they were about to leave. “I… I suppose I really did go too far sometimes.”
“Sometimes?” Galina could not help herself.
“All right, often,” her mother-in-law reluctantly admitted. “It’s just… he’s the only one I have left. After my husband died, I thought I would lose my mind. Antosha became the meaning of my life. And then you came along… I was afraid he would forget me completely.”
“Nina Petrovna,” Galina said gently. “Love for a wife does not cancel out love for a mother. They are different feelings. And there is enough room for everyone.”
“Maybe…” her mother-in-law fell silent. “Galya, will you have children?”
Previously, that question would have caused an explosion of emotion. But now Galina only smiled.
“We hope so. We really hope so.”
“I… I could help. If needed. Without interfering!” Nina Petrovna hurried to add.
“Thank you. We’ll keep that in mind.”
On the way home, Anton took his wife’s hand.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For giving her a chance. After everything that happened.”
“You know, I thought about it… In a way, she’s a victim too. Her whole life she lived for her family, for her husband and son. And when her husband died, she simply didn’t know how to live on. She clung to you because she was afraid of being completely alone.”
“Are you justifying her?”
“No. I’m just trying to understand. And maybe, if we all try, we can build a normal relationship. With respect for personal boundaries, but also with warmth.”
“Optimist,” Anton smiled.
“What else can I do?” Galina stopped and turned toward her husband. “Anton, I want a family. A big, close family. One with children and grandmothers and grandfathers. But a family where everyone respects one another.”
“It will happen,” he said confidently. “It definitely will.”
A year later, their daughter was born. Nina Petrovna arrived at the maternity hospital with an enormous bouquet and tears in her eyes.
“She’s beautiful! Just like her mother!” she cooed, looking at her granddaughter.
“And she’ll probably have her mother’s character too,” Anton winked.
“God willing!” his mother-in-law said unexpectedly. “Your Galya is gold. Take care of her.”
Galina and Anton exchanged glances. It seemed they really had succeeded. A family where there was room for everyone. Where love was not divided, but multiplied. Where boundaries were respected, but people were always ready to help.
“What will you name her?” Nina Petrovna asked.
“Nadezhda,” Galina answered. “Because she is our hope for a happy future.”
And looking at the peacefully sleeping baby, all three of them understood: that future would surely come.