— Vadim, where’s my dress?
Alla opened the closet again, even though she knew there was no point. The thick, light garment bag was lying on the bed, completely empty, the zipper undone all the way, and the wooden hanger was tossed next to it.
Her husband poked his head out from the kitchen, phone in hand.
— Which dress?
Alla slowly turned to him.
— The one I picked up from the tailor yesterday. The same one I went twice to get fitted. The one I was planning to wear in three days to my anniversary.
Vadim finally realized what she was talking about.
— Oh, that one. Larisa took it.
For a few seconds, Alla just stared at her husband.
Not because she didn’t hear him. On the contrary, she heard it all too well.
She had come home after a long day at work, dreaming of taking off her shoes, having a shower, and spending at least half an hour alone. The last few weeks had been hectic: planning her fiftieth birthday was taking up much more time than she expected. She still needed to confirm the restaurant menu, stay in touch with the photographer, check the guest list, talk to the baker, and respond to family members who somehow decided now was the time to ask if they could bring more people.
And the only thing that was completely ready and didn’t need her attention anymore was the dress.
Alla had ordered it almost two months ago.
She’d spent a long time choosing a style, because for the first time in years, she wanted not just something decent, but something she truly liked. She visited several stores and found nothing that fit, so she ended up going to a small tailor that a coworker suggested.
She chose a dense fabric in a deep blue shade. The dress was simple, without sequins or extra decorations, with neat shoulders and a belt that flattered her silhouette.
In it, Alla wasn’t trying to look younger.
She just looked good.
And that was enough for her.
Last night she brought the dress home, tried it on once more in front of the mirror, smiled contentedly, and carefully put it in the closet.
And now the dress was gone.
— What do you mean Larisa took it? Alla asked.
— Just what I said.
Vadim still didn’t see the problem.
— She’s going to a wedding today. Some banquet for a coworker. She saw the photo you sent me yesterday, said the dress was beautiful, and asked if she could try it on.
— And?
— I said she could.
— You said so?
— Well, yes.
Alla stepped closer.
— Vadim, she asked to try on my dress and you gave her permission?
— Alla, why are you making such a fuss? She’s not taking it for a year.
— Where is the dress now?
— With her.
— When will she bring it back?
Her husband shrugged.
— I don’t know. Probably tomorrow.
— Probably?
— Well, after the wedding.
Alla looked at the empty garment bag.
Just this morning, she thought the biggest headache this week would be the cake, since the baker unexpectedly suggested adding some golden spheres, even though they’d agreed on a completely different decoration.
Turns out, the cake was the least of her worries.
— Call her, Alla said.
— Why?
— Tell her to bring the dress back.
— Now?
— Now.
Vadim put his phone down on the nightstand.
— Alla, her wedding is this evening. She’s already getting ready.
— That’s not my concern.
— Of course.
He smirked, as if his wife was making a fuss over nothing.
— The dress fit Larisa. She sent me a photo. Nearly perfect.
— Wonderful.
— Exactly. So why should she buy a new dress just for one evening right now?
Alla raised her eyebrows.
— So I don’t need a dress for my own fiftieth birthday?
— You have others.
— I ordered this one especially for the anniversary.
— So? You’ll wear it next time.
Alla didn’t reply.
She went to the bedroom, took the dress cover, and carefully placed it on the chair.
Vadim followed her inside.
— Come on, explain to me what the problem is. The dress isn’t ruined. Larisa is careful. She’ll wear it to the wedding, and then give it back.
— You opened my closet and gave away my dress without asking me.
— It’s not like I gave it to a stranger.
— Does that change anything?
— Of course it does. She’s my sister.
Alla turned to face him.
— Exactly. Your sister.
— So?
— So if she needs something, you could ask me first.
— What’s to ask? The dress was just hanging there unused.
That wording actually made Alla chuckle a bit.
— Unused?
— You wouldn’t wear it for three more days anyway.
— Then maybe I should give your car to someone. It just sits around at night, not being used.
Vadim immediately frowned.
— Don’t compare the two.
— Why not? Seems pretty similar to me.
— A car is a car.
— And a dress is my dress.
He waved his hand irritably.
— Fine. You’ll get your dress. Larisa will bring it back tomorrow.
— Today.
— What do you mean, today?
— She’ll return it today.
— She’s going to a wedding!
— Then she’ll have to wear something else.
— She has nothing else to wear!
Alla looked at her husband more closely.
— Vadim, your sister has a whole closet full of clothes.
— She doesn’t have a decent evening dress.
— That’s not my problem.
— Why are you being like this?
— Because three days ago, this was her problem. Now, somehow, it’s become mine.
Vadim finally lost his patience.
— You’ll give the dress to my sister, and you’ll find something else to wear. You’re used to going for something simpler anyway.
He said it in an ordinary tone.
He didn’t even raise his voice.
And that made the words sound especially unpleasant.
Alla didn’t answer right away.
She looked at her husband as if, for the first time, she noticed something about him that had always been there, but had never caught her attention until that evening.
— What did you just say?
Vadim realized he’d stepped out of line, but didn’t back down.
— You have a few dresses in your closet. Nice clothes. Take the green one.
— I wore that at your parents’ anniversary.
— And so?
— Any other options?
— The gray one.
— I wore that to the office party.
— Oh come on, Alla, who remembers these things?
— I do.
Vadim sighed.
— Well, then buy something new.
— In three days?
— You’re a woman. That’s supposed to be easy for you.
Alla nodded.
— I see.
Her husband clearly expected the argument to continue.
But it didn’t.
Alla picked up her phone.
— Who are you calling?
— Larisa.
— Don’t.
— Why not?
— I’ll speak to her myself.
— You already did.
Alla found her sister-in-law’s number and hit call.
Larisa answered quickly.
There was a hairdryer running in the background.
— Alla, hi! I was just about to message you.
— Hi, Larisa. Do you have my dress?
— Yes. Vadik said you’d given permission.
Alla looked at her husband.
He looked away.
— No. I found out about this ten minutes ago.
The hairdryer was turned off on the other end.
— What do you mean?
— I mean it. I came home and found the dress bag empty.
— Wait. He said you decided not to wear it anyway.
Alla closed her eyes for a moment.
Now things just got even more interesting.
— Decided not to wear it?
— Yeah. He said you were planning to find something else for the anniversary, and you didn’t like that dress very much.
Vadim spoke up sharply:
— I never said that.
Alla turned on speakerphone.
— Is he there with you?
— Yes.
— Vadik, that’s exactly what you told me, — Larisa insisted. — That Alla would probably pick something else.
— I said she might buy something else.
— No. You said she didn’t need that one much anyway.
Vadim snatched the phone from his side of the table.
— Larisa, stop splitting hairs.
— I’m not splitting hairs. You yourself offered it to me.
Alla grabbed the phone back.
— Larisa, please return the dress by tomorrow evening.
It went quiet on the other end again.
— By tomorrow?
— Yes.
— Alright. There’s just a slight problem.
Alla immediately tensed up.
— What kind of problem?
— I took it to Sveta.
— Which Sveta?
— She does tailoring. I wanted to have it shortened a bit.
Alla gripped the edge of the dresser with her fingers.
— Shorten what, exactly?
— The hem.
— Of my dress?
— Alla, it was like four centimeters too long for me. I thought you were giving it away.
Vadim grimaced.
Now even he understood just how far things had gone beyond an innocent try-on.
— Has she already cut it? — Alla asked.
— No. I only dropped it off. Sveta was going to look it over in the evening.
— Call her right now.
— Of course.
— And tell her not to touch anything.
— Got it, Alla. I really didn’t know.
— I understand.
And that was the truth.
Alla didn’t feel like arguing with Larisa.
Her sister-in-law had been careless, but she acted under the impression that her brother had really gotten his wife’s permission.
The real mastermind behind this was someone else entirely.
When the call ended, Vadim let out a loud sigh.
— See? We’ve scared her.
Alla turned to him slowly.
— Did you tell her that I changed my mind about wearing the dress?
— I put it a bit differently.
— How exactly?
— I said if it fits her, you probably wouldn’t mind.
— And why did you think that?
— Because you usually don’t make a big deal about things.
— Oh, I see.
— Alla, that’s enough now.
Vadim picked up the phone again.
— She’ll bring your dress back. It’s all sorted.
But for Alla, it was anything but sorted.
She suddenly remembered, all too clearly, how many times in the past eight years she’d heard something similar.
Not the exact words.
But the meaning was always the same.
Alla can wait.
Alla will manage.
Alla will find something cheaper.
Alla won’t make a problem out of it.
When Vadim decided to replace the car, the old one was still running fine. He just really wanted a model that was newer and roomier.
That same year, they were planning to remodel the kitchen.
Not because the old one was falling apart. The cabinet fronts were worn, some drawers were sticking, and the countertop by the sink was starting to go bad.
Alla had even picked a company and scheduled for someone to come take measurements.
But after one dinner, Vadim put the calculations in front of her.
— If we do the kitchen now, we won’t have enough for the new car.
— But you said you’d get it later.
— It’s just that a good deal popped up now.
Alla looked at the numbers.
— Then we’ll postpone the kitchen.
She said it herself.
There was no pressure.
She thought, if the car was truly important to her husband, she could compromise.
The kitchen could wait.
A year later, Vadim needed new work equipment.
He worked in industrial automation maintenance and sometimes took on private jobs. For those, he wanted to get a professional set of tools he’d been eyeing for a while.
They didn’t quite have enough money.
At that time, Alla was planning a trip to Kaliningrad in the fall with a girlfriend.
They hadn’t bought tickets yet.
She opened their savings account, checked the amount, and said:
“Take what you need from here. I’ll reschedule my trip.”
Vadim hugged her then.
“I’ll pay it back.”
“No need. It’s all from our shared budget anyway.”
He really did contribute more for the next few months, and Alla never treated it as a debt.
Everything was always fine with Larisa, too.
She was seven years younger than Vadim, was raising her daughter alone after her divorce, and sometimes found herself needing help.
Nothing catastrophic.
Sometimes she needed to urgently pay for her daughter’s extra classes, with her own money coming in later.
Sometimes the washing machine broke down.
Or back-to-school expenses piled up all at once.
Alla would calmly transfer the money.
Most of the time, Larisa paid her back, sometimes with a delay.
One day, Alla said herself:
“No rush. Pay it back when you can.”
She never thought of this help as any sort of heroic act.
They were just family.
She simply could help, so she did.
The problem was somewhere else.
In the past couple of years, it was as if Vadim stopped seeing the difference between his wife’s kindness and her duties as a wife.
If his mom needed an expensive new appliance, his first reaction was:
“Should we hold off on getting you a new phone for now?”
If Larisa wanted to borrow money, Vadim would ask Alla:
“Do you have some on your savings account?”
If they needed to buy gifts for relatives, he easily suggested upping the budget, but later might say:
“Let’s skip your personal shopping this month.”
His own plans, meanwhile, stayed pretty much the same.
For a long time, Alla hardly noticed.
Or rather, she saw individual episodes, but didn’t connect the dots.
Today, it all came together.
And the empty dress cover on the bed was a painfully clear sign.
Her dress had already been taken out of the house, given to someone else, and was practically ready to be tailored for a different figure.
Alla was left with old clothes.
Much simpler ones.
The next evening, Larisa came over herself.
She had a large bag in her hands.
“Here you go.”
Alla took the dress out and carefully inspected the hem.
It was untouched.
“Sveta didn’t even have time to pin it yet,” Larisa said. “I picked it up this morning.”
“Thanks.”
Larisa lingered awkwardly in the hallway.
“Alla, I wouldn’t have taken it if I’d known.”
“I understand.”
“I honestly thought you gave permission yourself.”
“This isn’t your fault.”
Vadim came out of the room.
“So? Got it all sorted out?”
Larisa looked at her brother.
“I’ll talk to you separately later.”
“Oh, can we skip the drama, please.”
“What drama? Why did you tell me Alla didn’t need the dress?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“So both of us misunderstood you?”
Vadim immediately got irritated.
“Larisa, did you come to return the dress, or to give me a lecture?”
“To return it. I already have.”
She turned to Alla.
“Sorry again.”
“It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not fine at all,” Larisa said unexpectedly. “Now tomorrow I’ll have to go running around the stores after work.”
Vadim immediately looked at his wife, as if that comment proved he was right.
“See?”
Alla even smiled.
“See what, exactly?”
“Now she has to go find an outfit.”
“Then help her.”
“How?”
“Buy your sister a dress.”
Vadim frowned.
“Why should I?”
“Well, you’re the one who thinks she needs a new one.”
“She does.”
“So go ahead and buy her one.”
“Why should I be the one to buy it?”
Larisa immediately raised her hand.
“Don’t buy me anything. I’ll sort it out myself.”
But Alla had no intention of dropping the conversation.
“No, I’m really curious, Vadim. Open any store and check the prices for decent evening dresses.”
“Why should I do that?”
“So that Larisa doesn’t end up in an awkward situation because of your decision.”
“She’s a grown woman.”
Alla laughed.
“Seriously?”
“What’s funny about that?”
“Yesterday she wasn’t grown-up enough to handle an outfit on her own, so you went poking around in my closet. But today, when it comes to paying, suddenly she’s more than capable.”
Larisa looked away, hiding her smile.
Vadim made a show of opening the first online store on his phone.
“So how much do they cost then?”
A couple minutes later, the look on his face changed.
“Forget it.”
“What’s wrong?”
“That much for a simple dress?”
“You can find something cheaper.”
“Exactly. Larisa, don’t you already have a black dress?”
His sister looked at him in genuine surprise.
“You mean the one I wore to Aunt Galya’s anniversary?”
“So what? Who even remembers that?”
Alla leaned her hand against the door frame.
That was almost the exact phrase she’d heard yesterday.
Larisa noticed it, too.
“Now I see why Alla is upset,” she said.
“No one’s upset,” said Alla. “We’re just figuring out who in this family is allowed to wear old dresses.”
“Oh, come on,” Vadim shot back.
Larisa didn’t stick around.
Before leaving, she said to Alla once more:
“I’ll figure something out. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried.”
When the door closed, Vadim went into the room.
Alla put the dress away in the closet and hung up the garment bag.
“Happy now?” her husband asked.
“About what?”
“You got what you wanted.”
“I got my dress back.”
“You could’ve just let her have it.”
Alla closed the closet door.
“That’s a word I really like.”
“Which word?”
“Yield.”
“And?”
“You seem to love that word—when I’m the one who’s supposed to yield.”
“Here we go.”
“No. It’s over.”
Vadim looked at her warily.
“What’s over?”
Alla took a folder out of her bag.
She had brought it from work on purpose.
Inside were all the calculations for the anniversary.
Before the whole dress incident, Alla hadn’t planned on showing her husband the detailed budget at all. She was handling the preparations herself and intended to cover most of the costs on her own.
She wanted to throw a really nice celebration.
Fifty only comes once in a lifetime, after all.
She’d booked a private room in a restaurant, picked the menu, and paid a deposit to the photographer.
There were quite a few guests.
On her side: several close friends, her cousin, and coworkers.
Vadim’s guest list turned out to be almost twice as long: parents, Larisa and her daughter, two aunts, a cousin with his wife, and several family friends.
Alla didn’t object.
At least, not until today.
She opened a folder and placed a sheet of paper in front of her husband.
“What’s this?”
“These are the anniversary expenses.”
“And?”
“We’re splitting them equally.”
Vadim looked up.
“Why all of a sudden?”
“Because more than half of the guests are your relatives and friends.”
“But it’s your anniversary.”
“Of course.”
“Then why should I pay half?”
“Because we’ve lived together for eight years and are inviting people together.”
“You’re the one who wanted the restaurant.”
“Yes.”
“You chose the photographer yourself.”
“Yes.”
“There you go then.”
Alla nodded calmly.
“Then let’s cut down your guests.”
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said. If the party and the costs are all on me, I’ll invite only people I want to see there.”
Vadim glanced at the list.
“Are you serious right now?”
“Absolutely.”
“And who are you planning to cross off?”
“No one. If we’re splitting the costs.”
He leaned back in his chair.
“Alla, the party is in three days.”
“That’s exactly why I’m telling you now.”
“I actually got you a present, you know.”
“A present isn’t paying for the restaurant.”
“It’s a really good present.”
“I’m glad.”
“And now I have to pay for half the evening too?”
“Yes.”
Vadim picked up the sheet and, for the first time, actually began to read it.
Before that, he’d only noticed a few individual totals.
Deposit for the restaurant.
The remaining payment.
Photographer.
Music.
Cake.
Additional expenses.
Vadim’s finger paused on the final total.
“Whoa.”
“Exactly.”
“That’s how much it is?”
“Yes.”
“You were planning to pay all this yourself?”
“Most of it.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Alla looked at him.
“Because until now, I thought it was normal to sometimes take on more.”
“See?”
“But today I realized what that leads to.”
He frowned.
“Is this about the dress again?”
“It’s not about the dress.”
“Then what?”
“It’s about your confidence that you can always suggest a cheaper option for me.”
Vadim turned away.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“That’s exactly what you meant.”
“I said it without thinking.”
“Maybe.”
“So now you’re going to remind me of every single thing I say?”
“No.”
Alla took the budget sheet and set a calculator next to it.
“I’m simply not going to support your words with my money anymore.”
The next day, Vadim came back to the topic several times.
First, he suggested paying less than half.
“You have more personal guests.”
Alla took out the list and recounted.
Turned out it was the opposite.
Then he tried arguing that parents didn’t count as his guests.
“They’re coming to congratulate you too.”
“Then my relatives are also shared guests.”
The argument ended there.
In the end, they split the costs exactly in half.
Vadim transferred his share to Alla in the evening.
Afterwards, he sat with his phone for a long time, calculating something.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“I can see it on your face.”
“I wanted to buy something next month.”
“What?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Alla didn’t press further.
Later, she found out that Vadim had been eyeing an expensive set of car tools and had planned to buy them after the anniversary.
He had to postpone the purchase.
Alla didn’t feel any satisfaction about it.
But she also didn’t offer to cover any of the expenses.
On her milestone birthday, she woke up before the alarm.
The apartment was quiet.
Vadim was still asleep.
Alla went to the kitchen, turned on the coffee machine, and spent a few minutes just gazing out the window.
Fifty.
When she was twenty-five, people who were fifty seemed like they belonged to an entirely different world.
Now, she found there was no other world waiting.
She was still working, making plans, getting annoyed over little things, buying uncomfortable shoes and then scolding herself for it, postponing tasks until Monday, and sometimes watching old comedies at night instead of sleeping.
She just had less patience for certain things now.
And honestly, she thought that was a good thing.
Alla arrived at the restaurant in her blue dress.
When she got out of the car, Vadim looked at her more closely than usual.
“It really is a beautiful dress.”
“I know.”
“It looks great on you.”
“That’s why I picked it out.”
He gave a short laugh.
“Alright, I get it.”
Alla didn’t respond.
She didn’t need anyone to surrender.
It was enough that the dress was hers and not someone else’s.
Guests began to arrive early.
Larisa showed up with her daughter.
She wore a simple, dark green dress.
Alla didn’t recognize it at first.
“Is that the one you’ve had for ages?”
“That’s the one.”
“It looks great.”
“Believe it or not,” Larisa laughed, “if you choose the right shoes and earrings, you really can go to a wedding without your dress.”
“No way.”
“I know, I’m shocked too.”
Both of them smiled.
Larisa glanced back at her brother, who was talking to the relatives by the entrance.
“I told him never to offer me someone else’s clothes again.”
“Good for you.”
“And honestly, Alla…”
“What?”
“I really didn’t realize what was happening at the time. If I’d known you ordered that dress especially for your birthday, I wouldn’t even have tried it on.”
“I know.”
“Vadik just likes to make decisions for everyone sometimes.”
Alla looked over at her husband.
“He used to get away with that way too often.”
“Maybe so.”
“Me included.”
Larisa nodded.
They didn’t bring up the subject again.
The evening turned out exactly how Alla wanted.
There wasn’t any flashy luxury, but it was beautiful and warm.
She didn’t run between tables checking every detail, and for the first time in weeks, she let herself just enjoy being the birthday girl.
The photographer asked her several times to turn toward the light, then took photos of the guests.
Vadim gave a short toast without any long stories.
He gave his wife earrings that he really had picked out himself.
Alla loved them.
Later, when most of the guests had already left, the couple sat in their car outside their home.
Vadim was the first to break the silence.
“It all went fine, didn’t it?”
“It went well.”
“Did you like it?”
“Very much.”
He was quiet.
“You know, I really didn’t think that comment would upset you so much.”
Alla unbuckled the strap on her shoe.
After hours on her feet, her legs were aching.
“Because it wasn’t about the comment.”
“What was it about, then?”
She looked at her husband.
“Vadim, for many years I really did choose the simplest option.”
He stayed quiet.
“It’s not because I didn’t want anything. Not because I didn’t care what dress I wore, where we went on vacation, or when to go shopping. Sometimes, other things just seemed more important to me.”
“I know.”
“No. You just got used to it.”
He frowned, but didn’t argue.
Alla continued:
“When we put off the kitchen for the car, that was my choice. When I gave you extra money for the equipment—that was me too. When I helped Larisa—that was also my decision. It doesn’t mean everyone can just take what’s mine whenever it’s easier for someone else.”
Vadim ran his hand over the steering wheel.
“I understand.”
“I hope so.”
“I just thought things weren’t that important to you.”
“Sometimes they’re not.”
“Exactly.”
“But that’s up to me to decide.”
He nodded.
This time, with no objections.
A few weeks later, Alla noticed the first real change.
Vadim’s mother needed a new refrigerator.
Before, Vadim would’ve almost certainly started the conversation like, “Maybe you could postpone your purchase for now?”
But this time he sat down in the evening with his laptop, compared a few models and said:
“I’ll chip in some of my own money for Mom.”
Alla looked at him.
“Okay.”
“That’s it? You’re not going to say anything?”
“What am I supposed to say?”
“I don’t know. We used to discuss these things.”
“We still can. But if it’s your help to your mom and you’re using your own money, I don’t see an issue.”
He was quiet for a moment.
“Fair enough.”
Alla smiled.
A month later, Larisa repaid the last little debt she’d had since spring.
“You really didn’t have to rush,” Alla said.
“No way. Otherwise Vadik will think you have some sort of family bail-out fund again.”
Alla laughed.
“He probably won’t think that anymore.”
“Good.”
The dress incident quickly became a family joke.
Only for Larisa, though.
If Vadim started making plans for other people a little too confidently, his sister would sometimes say:
“Careful, or we’ll get to the dress again.”
He would grimace.
“Enough. Can we please stop bringing that up?”
Alla usually kept quiet.
She didn’t need to remind herself.
She just started to look at her decisions differently.
When autumn came and Vadim suggested postponing her new desk chair purchase because he wanted to buy something for the car, Alla replied:
“No.”
He was actually surprised.
“Just no?”
“Just no.”
“But what if…”
“I’ve been planning to get this chair for a while. If you want to wait on your purchase or not, that’s your decision.”
Vadim thought for a moment and didn’t argue anymore.
They bought the chair.
A few days later, while working at her computer, Alla realized that before, she definitely would have started explaining her decision.
Why she needed the chair.
Why the old one was uncomfortable.
Why she had the right to spend the money.
Why it wasn’t just a whim.
Now, she just didn’t feel like explaining.
Life as a normal adult turned out to be a lot simpler when every personal wish didn’t have to be turned into a courtroom case with evidence.
She didn’t become more stingy.
Didn’t stop helping family.
Didn’t start counting every penny or dividing everything into “mine” and “yours.”
If Larisa needed help with her daughter, Alla helped.
If her mother-in-law asked for a delivery, she delivered.
If Vadim really needed support, he got it.
Only one thing changed.
The word “help” started meaning a voluntary choice again.
Not an automatic right for others to use her time, money, or things.
As for the blue dress, Alla wore it several more times after the birthday party.
Once for a friends’ anniversary.
And again at the theater.
One day at a family gathering, Larisa saw him and burst out laughing:
“It’s a good thing I didn’t end up shortening it.”
“You have no idea how good,” he replied.
“I would be embarrassed every single time now.”
“And I would have to remember you fondly every time,” he joked back.
Vadim overheard and immediately jumped in:
“Alright, I get it. This is all my fault.”
“No one’s trying to find who’s to blame anymore,” Alla said.
“But I feel like this dress is going to haunt me into my old age.”
Larisa gave her brother a smack on the shoulder.
“It’s good for you sometimes.”
Alla laughed and went over to join the other guests.
She actually liked that dress.
But now, it wasn’t just because it fit her so well.
When she turned fifty, she had finally gotten herself something she chose—and allowed herself to have.
At the same time, she finally let go of an old habit: thinking that her own desires mattered less than someone else’s comfort when they’d just gotten too used to her giving in.