Alina stepped out of the shower and heard her phone ringing. Stanislav’s name appeared on the screen. Strange. Her husband usually did not call at this time; he was probably sitting at the computer in the living room. She dried herself with a towel and answered.
“Alin, Mom will be here in an hour. She asked you to make dinner,” her husband said, sounding somehow uncertain.
Alina froze with the phone in her hand. Only yesterday she had returned from a night shift, today she had worked a full day at the office, and in the evening she still had three more hours of remote side work at the computer. And now she was supposed to cook dinner for her mother-in-law too?
“Stas, I’m very tired. Maybe we can order delivery?” she suggested carefully.
“Are you serious? Mom doesn’t eat that restaurant garbage. She needs proper food,” her husband said, as if it were obvious.
Alina felt tension spread across her shoulders. She worked twelve hours a day, six days a week, to pay for their rented two-room apartment, groceries, utilities, and all the other expenses. Stanislav had not worked for two years.
“Fine,” Alina answered shortly and hung up.
She quickly got dressed and went to the kitchen. There was almost nothing in the refrigerator, so she would have to run to the store. Alina grabbed her jacket and went outside. One thought kept spinning in her head: when would all this end?
Zoya Petrovna appeared exactly an hour later, just as promised. She entered the apartment without saying hello, glanced around the hallway, and wrinkled her nose.
“Messy again,” her mother-in-law remarked, taking off her coat. “Stanislav, how do you live in such conditions?”
Alina stood by the stove, stirring the soup. She bit her lip so she would not answer. There was not a speck of dust on the floor; she simply had not had time to vacuum the hallway rug yesterday.
“Mom, everything is fine. Don’t nitpick,” Stanislav muttered without looking away from the monitor.
Zoya Petrovna walked into the kitchen and sat at the table. She carefully examined the pots on the stove, as if checking whether everything met her standards.
“What are you making?” her mother-in-law asked.
“Chicken soup and buckwheat with cutlets,” Alina answered, setting the table.
“And salad?” Zoya Petrovna raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you know I don’t eat without salad?”
Alina exhaled and took tomatoes and cucumbers from the refrigerator. She silently chopped the vegetables while her mother-in-law told her son about her friends and another rise in prices at the stores.
Dinner passed in tense silence. Zoya Petrovna ate slowly, critically inspecting every spoonful of soup. Alina kept quiet, thinking that she still had three hours of work ahead of her, and it was already nine in the evening.
“Stanislav, I need money,” her mother-in-law suddenly said, putting down her spoon. “My phone broke, and a new one costs twenty-five thousand.”
Stanislav looked uncertainly at his wife. Alina felt blood rush to her face. Money again. Always money.
“Mom, I don’t have any right now,” Stanislav began, but his mother interrupted him.
“What do you mean, you don’t? Alina works! She definitely has money.”
Alina put down her fork and slowly raised her eyes to her mother-in-law.
“Zoya Petrovna, I have already helped you three times in the last two months. Last time, you said you needed money for medicine, and then I found out from your neighbor that you were going to an expensive café with your friends.”
Her mother-in-law’s face twisted.
“How dare you spy on me?! What I do with my money is my business! And you are obligated to help your husband’s family!”
“I am not obligated,” Alina said calmly. “You have a pension and your own apartment. I work two jobs to support myself and your son, who has not worked for two years.”
Stanislav abruptly stood up from the table.
“Alina, don’t talk to my mother like that! You’re insulting her!”
“I’m telling the truth,” Alina also stood up. “Zoya Petrovna, for half a year you have constantly been asking us for money. More precisely, asking me, because Stanislav doesn’t have any. I’m tired.”
Her mother-in-law turned crimson with anger. She grabbed her bag and headed for the door, but stopped at the threshold and turned around.
“Remember my words,” she hissed through clenched teeth. “I will come back. And you will regret talking to me like that.”
The door slammed. Stanislav turned to his wife with anger in his eyes.
“Are you happy now? You humiliated my mother!”
“I told the truth. Stas, you haven’t worked for two years. I carry everything on myself. And your mother still demands that I support her. This is absurd.”
“Absurd?!” Stanislav raised his voice. “She gave birth to me and raised me! You should help her!”
“I shouldn’t,” Alina shook her head. “By law, adult children are obligated to help disabled parents only if those parents cannot support themselves. Your mother has a pension and housing. She spends money on entertainment and then comes to us for help.”
Stanislav was silent. He clearly had not expected his wife to put the issue so firmly.
“I’m going to work,” Alina said and headed to the bedroom, where her laptop was.
The next day, Alina returned from work around eight in the evening. She opened the door and froze. Three large suitcases stood in the hallway.
“What is this?” she asked, entering the living room.
Zoya Petrovna was sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea. Stanislav stood beside her with a guilty expression.
“I’m moving in with you,” her mother-in-law announced calmly. “It’s hard for me alone, and a son should take care of his mother.”
Alina felt her breath catch.
“No,” she said clearly. “That is impossible.”
“What do you mean, impossible?” Zoya Petrovna put her cup on the table. “Stanislav has already agreed.”
Alina turned to her husband.
“Stas, did you really agree without consulting me?”
“Well… she is my mother…” he muttered.
“Zoya Petrovna, I pay for this apartment,” Alina tried to speak calmly. “There are only two rooms here. And I am not going to support another person.”
Her mother-in-law jumped up from the sofa.
“Support?! I gave birth to him and raised him! You owe me for that!”
“I owe you nothing,” Alina shook her head. “You gave birth to Stanislav for yourself, not for me. You have your own apartment and a pension.”
“My apartment is old! The bathroom is falling apart! I can’t live there!” Zoya Petrovna shouted.
“Then rent it out and use that money to rent a better apartment,” Alina suggested.
“How dare you tell me what to do?!” her mother-in-law choked with outrage. “Stanislav, do you hear how your wife is talking to me?!”
Stanislav was silent, staring at the floor.
“Zoya Petrovna, please take your things,” Alina said firmly.
Her mother-in-law turned even redder. She grabbed the TV remote and threw it at the wall.
“What do you mean, ‘get out’?! I am your husband’s mother! You are obligated to support me!” she screamed so loudly that the neighbors started knocking on the wall.
“I am not obligated,” Alina walked to the door and opened it. “Leave. Now.”
“Stanislav!” her mother-in-law turned to her son. “Are you going to let her treat me like this?”
Stanislav looked hesitantly at his mother, then at his wife.
“Mom, maybe you really shouldn’t move in right now? Let’s discuss everything calmly later…”
“You traitor!” Zoya Petrovna grabbed her bag. “I raised you, and you choose this… this greedy woman!”
She ran out of the apartment, slamming the door. The suitcases remained in the hallway.
Alina closed the door and turned to her husband.
“Stas, we need to have a serious talk.”
“About what?” he was still looking at the door.
“About our marriage. I work twelve hours a day. You haven’t worked for two years and aren’t even trying to find a job. Your mother constantly demands money, and now she wants to move in with us. I can’t live like this anymore.”
Stanislav turned sharply.
“What, do you want a divorce?”
“I want you to start working. I want you to stop letting your mother use us. I want us to be a family, not for me to be a cash cow for both of you.”
“I’m looking for work! It’s just a crisis right now; it’s hard to find something!”
“Two years is not a crisis, Stas. It is unwillingness to work. I’ve seen you sitting in games all day.”
Stanislav turned away.
“You just don’t understand how hard it is to find a decent job in the modern world.”
“Decent?” Alina gave a bitter smile. “And do you think I work two jobs because life is wonderful? I would also like to sit at home and play games. But we have expenses. Rent. Food. Utilities.”
“Well, you’re managing!”
Alina froze. That phrase finally made everything clear.
“I see,” she said quietly. “So as long as I’m managing, you don’t need to do anything. Everything is clear.”
She turned and went to the bedroom. Stanislav shouted after her that she had misunderstood everything, but Alina was no longer listening.
For the next two weeks, Zoya Petrovna called every day. At first she cried and complained that Stanislav had abandoned his mother. Then she began threatening to sue for support.
Alina consulted a lawyer. It turned out that her mother-in-law had no right to demand alimony from her daughter-in-law. Moreover, even from her son, she could receive support only if she were disabled and had no means of subsistence. And Zoya Petrovna had both a pension and an apartment.
When Alina told her husband about this, he merely shrugged.
“So what? She’s still my mother. We should help her like decent people.”
“Helping like decent people is one thing. Demanding that I support her is another,” Alina objected.
One evening, Zoya Petrovna came again. She burst into the apartment without waiting for an invitation.
“Stanislav, I sold my apartment!” she announced from the doorway.
“What?!” husband and wife exclaimed at the same time.
“Yes, I sold it. For a ridiculous price, of course, but at least it was something. Now I’m moving in with you permanently,” her mother-in-law smiled triumphantly.
Alina felt the ground drop from under her feet.
“Zoya Petrovna, did you deliberately sell your apartment to make yourself homeless and force us to take you in?”
“I’m not forcing anyone! A son is obligated to provide housing for his mother!”
“No, he is not,” Alina took out her phone. “I consulted a lawyer. Adult children are obligated to support disabled parents, but that does not mean they are obligated to provide housing. Moreover, you have money from selling the apartment. You can rent a place for yourself.”
“I put that money aside for old age!” her mother-in-law protested.
“Then rent an apartment with it,” Alina said firmly. “You will not live here.”
Zoya Petrovna turned to her son.
“Stanislav, is it your wife or me?”
Stanislav was silent for a long time. Then he quietly said:
“Mom, Alina is right. You shouldn’t have sold the apartment.”
His mother opened her mouth in astonishment. Then she grabbed her bag and ran out of the apartment, shouting curses as she went.
But for Alina, that was no longer enough. She understood that if everything did not change now, it never would.
“Stas, I’m giving you one month,” she told her husband. “Find a job. Any job. Otherwise I’m moving out.”
“Are you blackmailing me?!”
“No. I’m giving you a chance to save our marriage.”
A month passed. Stanislav still had not found a job. More precisely, he had not even looked. Zoya Petrovna continued calling and demanding that her son throw Alina out and let his mother in.
Alina packed her things one day when Stanislav had gone to a friend’s place. She called the landlady and told her she was moving out. The woman was understanding and agreed to terminate the lease without penalties after hearing the reason.
When Stanislav returned, the apartment was empty. A note lay on the table:
“I terminated the lease. Now you’ll have to find somewhere to live by yourself. Maybe you can move in with your mother — she wanted that so much. I will file for divorce this week. Alina.”
Stanislav dialed her number, but Alina did not answer. He called all evening and sent messages, but she remained silent.
Then Zoya Petrovna called. She had heard from her son what had happened and began shouting into the phone, accusing Alina of every mortal sin.
But Alina simply muted the phone and placed it on the table.
She was sitting in a small rented studio that she had paid for with her own money. It was quiet, clean, and peaceful there. No one demanded dinner, money, or sacrifices.
Alina opened her laptop and started working. For the first time in a long while, she felt free.
A week later, she filed for divorce at the registry office. Stanislav did not appear for the divorce registration, so she had to file a lawsuit in court. There was nothing to divide — all the property was hers personally, bought before the marriage or with her own money.
The court hearing went quickly. Stanislav came with his mother. Zoya Petrovna tried to object and shout something, but the judge sternly cut her off.
Alina received her divorce and left the courtroom with lightness in her chest.
Stanislav and his mother were left with nothing. No housing, no money, and no prospects. Zoya Petrovna had spent the money from selling the apartment on trying to “live beautifully,” and now they had to rent a small room on the outskirts.
Stanislav finally got a job as a loader, but his salary was only enough for the rented room and modest food.
And Alina began a new life. She stopped working her second job because now she only had to support herself. She had time for rest, hobbies, and friends.
One evening, sitting in a café with a friend, Alina received a message from Stanislav: “Forgive me. I was wrong. Can we start over?”
Alina read the message, sighed, and deleted it without replying.
Some things do not deserve a second chance. Especially when for four years you carried two adults on your back while they considered it obvious and normal.
Alina put her phone away and smiled at her friend.
Life went on. But now it belonged to her.
Six months passed. Alina had fully settled into her new life. She quit her side job and now worked only at her main job. After work, she had time for the gym, for meeting friends, and for reading books.
One day in the supermarket, she accidentally ran into Zoya Petrovna. Her former mother-in-law looked older and tired. She was pushing a cart filled with the cheapest groceries.
“Alina?” Zoya Petrovna said uncertainly.
“Hello,” Alina nodded politely and started to move on.
“Wait!” her mother-in-law grabbed her by the arm. “I need to talk to you.”
Alina stopped and looked at her expectantly.
“Are you satisfied?” Zoya Petrovna spoke quietly, but with hidden anger. “You destroyed our family!”
“I did not destroy your family,” Alina answered calmly. “I simply stopped being a source of income for two adults.”
“Stanislav works as a loader now! My son, who could have found a prestigious job!”
“He did not look for a prestigious job for two years while I supported him,” Alina reminded her. “And now at least he is working. That is progress.”
“And I live in a room on the outskirts! I don’t have my own apartment!”
“You sold it yourself, hoping I would take you in,” Alina shook her head. “That was your choice.”
Zoya Petrovna opened her mouth to object, but Alina did not let her speak.
“Zoya Petrovna, you believed I was obligated to support you simply because I married your son. You demanded money, food, and housing from me. You didn’t even thank me when I helped. You took it for granted. And when I refused to be a cash cow, you called me selfish.”
“But I am your husband’s mother!” her mother-in-law sobbed.
“Ex-husband,” Alina corrected her. “And that does not make me obligated to support you. You had an apartment and a pension. You ruined everything yourself with your greed and manipulation.”
“You are heartless!” Zoya Petrovna cried.
“No,” Alina smiled. “I simply learned to value myself. Goodbye, Zoya Petrovna.”
She turned and walked away without looking back. Behind her, she could hear her former mother-in-law sobbing, but Alina felt neither pity nor guilt.
At the exit of the store, she met her colleague from work, Dmitry. He was also shopping.
“Hi, Alina!” he smiled. “Would you like to get some coffee by any chance? A nice coffee shop just opened nearby.”
Alina thought for a second, then nodded.
“With pleasure.”
They sat in a cozy coffee shop, talking about work, life, and plans. Dmitry told funny stories, and Alina laughed sincerely.
“You know,” he said, stirring his coffee, “I’ve noticed that you’ve changed over the past six months. You’ve become more… free, maybe.”
Alina smiled.
“Yes, I got divorced recently.”
“Oh, I see. So it was a difficult marriage?”
“You could say that. For four years I supported a husband who didn’t work and his mother, who believed I owed her everything.”
Dmitry whistled.
“And how did you endure that?”
“For a long time,” Alina sighed. “Too long. But at some point, I realized that either I would leave, or I would break completely.”
“And you left. Well done.”
“Yes. The best decision of my life.”
They stayed in the coffee shop for another hour, and when they parted, Dmitry asked for her phone number.
“Maybe we could go to the movies sometime?” he suggested.
Alina smiled and gave him her number.
A month later, Stanislav wrote to her again. This time the message was long and full of remorse. He wrote that he had realized all his mistakes, that he was ready to change, and that he had found a normal office job.
Alina read the message and thought for a moment. Then she wrote a short reply:
“Stas, I’m glad you changed. But I needed the person who would have changed back then, four years ago. Or at least a year ago. Now it is too late. I have started a new life, and I don’t want to return to the old one. I wish you luck.”
She sent the message and blocked his number. There was no longer any point in keeping that connection.
Alina’s parents, Viktor Semyonovich and Nadezhda Alexandrovna, strongly supported her decision to divorce. They had never liked Stanislav, considering him a freeloader.
“Alinochka, we are so glad you finally left him,” her mother said when they met for a family dinner. “We kept silent because you loved him. But seeing him exploit you was unbearable.”
“And his mother is an incredibly shameless woman,” her father added. “I remember how she once came to us and started demanding money for her new television. She said that since our daughter was married to her son, we were now one family and had to help each other.”
“Seriously?” Alina was surprised. “You never told me.”
“We didn’t want to upset you,” her mother stroked her hand. “We simply refused her and asked her not to come again.”
Alina shook her head. So Zoya Petrovna had long believed that everyone around her owed her help.
Another year passed. Alina was dating Dmitry, and their relationship developed slowly but steadily. He was the complete opposite of Stanislav — hardworking, responsible, attentive.
One day he said to her:
“You know, I admire how you managed to leave that situation. Many women stay in such relationships for years, afraid of being alone.”
“Loneliness is better than life with people who use you,” Alina answered. “I didn’t understand that right away. But once I did, there was no way back.”
“Weren’t you afraid you wouldn’t manage on your own?”
“I was. But I was managing even when I supported two adults. Supporting only myself turned out to be much easier.”
Dmitry hugged her.
“You are strong. That is a rare quality.”
Alina smiled. Yes, she was strong. But that strength had not come immediately. It had grown out of endless hours of work, humiliation, and the realization that if she did not take care of herself, no one else would.
And somewhere on the outskirts of the city, in a cramped room, Stanislav and Zoya Petrovna continued complaining to each other about life, injustice, and heartless Alina, who had ruined their lives.
But Alina was no longer part of their world.
And that was exactly how it should be.