Taisia walked down the familiar street from the metro station toward home, feeling the heavy ache in her legs after a long day at the warehouse. Working as a storekeeper for a construction company was not easy. She spent the entire day on her feet, checking incoming goods, matching invoices, speaking with suppliers, and making sure nothing was missing.
But the salary was steady, and that mattered most.
Especially now, when Mark was unemployed again.
Taisia climbed to the third floor of the rented two-room apartment and took out her keys. The moment she opened the door, she realized something was wrong.
Mark was sitting on the sofa with a gloomy face. Beside him stood the landlady, an elderly woman with a displeased expression.
“Good evening,” Taisia said, taking off her coat and hanging it up.
“The evening may be good, but the news is not,” the landlady said, folding her arms across her chest. “I warned you a month ago. If you don’t pay on time, you’ll have to move out. You are already two weeks late with the rent. I need reliable tenants, not people who keep dragging things out.”
Taisia looked at Mark. He lowered his eyes.
“Galina Petrovna, we promised that at the beginning of next week—”
“I don’t need promises. I need money or an empty apartment. I already have other tenants ready to move in. I’m giving you three days. Either you pay two months in advance, or you leave.”
The landlady turned around and walked out, slamming the door behind her.
Taisia slowly sank onto a chair by the kitchen table.
“Mark, what is going on?”
Her husband stood up from the sofa and began pacing around the room.
“I got fired. A week ago.”
“A week ago? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t know how. I thought I’d quickly find another job and you wouldn’t even have to know.”
Taisia closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
This was the third time Mark had been fired in two years. Each time there had been excuses. The boss was too demanding. The team didn’t accept him. The working conditions were bad. But in reality, Mark simply could not stay at any job. He came late, left early, argued with management, and avoided difficult tasks.
“Mark, we don’t have money for rent. None at all. I won’t get paid for another two weeks, and even then it won’t be enough to pay two months in advance.”
“I know,” Mark said, sitting back down and covering his face with his hands. “I was thinking… maybe we could ask our parents for help?”
“My parents don’t have that kind of money. Dad is retired, and Mom works part-time at the library.”
“I meant my mother.”
Taisia froze.
Mark’s parents. Or rather, his mother. His father had died several years earlier.
Irina Vsevolodovna lived alone in a large private house on the outskirts of the city. The house had been inherited from her parents: two floors, a garden, a high fence. She was well-off and worked as the chief doctor at a private clinic.
But Taisia had only seen her mother-in-law a few times — at the wedding, on New Year’s Eve, and a couple of other times when Mark insisted on visiting her. Every time, Irina Vsevolodovna greeted her daughter-in-law coldly, looking her up and down as if evaluating her worth, asking questions with a barely hidden sneer in her voice.
“You want to ask your mother to let us stay with her?”
“What else can we do? We have nowhere to go. Her house is huge. Half the rooms are empty.”
“Mark, but…”
“Taisia, I know. My mother can be difficult. But it’s temporary. I’ll find a job, we’ll save some money, and then we’ll rent a new place.”
Taisia looked at her husband. She wanted to object. She wanted to say it was a terrible idea.
But what other option did they have?
That rented apartment was the only thing they had had in three years of marriage. No savings, no property, nothing solid beneath their feet. Mark kept changing jobs. Taisia earned regularly, but not much. It was enough to survive, nothing more.
“All right,” she exhaled. “Call her.”
Mark took out his phone and dialed. He stood up and started walking around the room again.
“Mom, hi… Yes, everything’s fine… Listen, we have a difficult situation… I lost my job, we can’t pay the rent, and the landlady is throwing us out… Can we move in with you for a while? Just for a month or two, until I find a new job…”
Taisia could not hear what Irina Vsevolodovna was saying, but judging by Mark’s face, his mother was not thrilled.
“Mom, please… We don’t have any other options… Yes, I understand… Thank you, Mom.”
He ended the call and turned to his wife.
“She agreed. She said it’s temporary and that we have to behave quietly and not disturb her.”
“Good,” Taisia said, rising from the chair. “Then we start packing.”
The next two days passed in chaos. They packed boxes, ordered a moving van, and collected the deposit from the landlady. Galina Petrovna inspected the apartment, found a scratch on the parquet floor, and deducted three thousand from the deposit. Taisia did not argue. She only wanted to leave as quickly as possible.
Irina Vsevolodovna’s house stood in a quiet neighborhood surrounded by trees. It was a two-story brick house with a well-kept garden and a tall fence. The car stopped by the gate. Mark called his mother, and she came out onto the porch.
Irina Vsevolodovna looked younger than her fifty-nine years. She was slim, straight-backed, and well-groomed, with gray hair arranged in a neat hairstyle. A cold smile rested on her lips.
“So, you’re here,” she said, glancing at the car loaded with their belongings. “Bring everything in. And take your shoes off in the hallway. I just washed the floor.”
Taisia nodded and began carrying boxes. Mark helped too. Irina Vsevolodovna stood aside and watched.
When the last box had been brought in, she led them to the second floor.
“This is your room,” she said, opening the door to a small bedroom. “It used to be my husband’s office. After he passed away, I removed the furniture. I put in a bed and a wardrobe. That’s all you need.”
The room was small, with a window facing the yard. An old bed stood against the wall, and a wooden wardrobe sat in the corner. The walls were painted gray.
“Thank you, Mom,” Mark said, putting an arm around his mother’s shoulders.
Irina Vsevolodovna did not return the embrace. She pulled away.
“The bathroom is shared, downstairs. Try not to make noise in the morning. I get up at seven. You may use the kitchen, but clean up after yourselves immediately. I do not tolerate mess. The washing machine is in the basement. You do laundry according to the schedule — Wednesdays and Saturdays. Is that clear?”
Taisia nodded.
Irina Vsevolodovna turned her long, evaluating gaze on her daughter-in-law.
“I hope you understand that this is temporary. I did not plan to turn my house into a dormitory. But since Mark asked, I have to tolerate it.”
“I understand,” Taisia said quietly. “We’ll try not to cause any inconvenience.”
“We’ll see,” her mother-in-law said, then turned and left the room.
Mark closed the door and looked at his wife.
“Taisia, don’t pay attention to her. Mom just isn’t used to having people around. She’ll get used to it.”
Taisia said nothing. She began unpacking.
But inside, anxiety had already begun to grow. Living under the same roof as Irina Vsevolodovna felt like a worse trial than losing their apartment and Mark’s job combined.
The first few days were relatively calm. Taisia got up early, went to work, and returned in the evening. Mark stayed home, searched for vacancies online, and sent out résumés. Irina Vsevolodovna also worked, came home late, and usually went straight to her bedroom on the first floor.
But gradually, the criticism began.
At first, it was small things.
Taisia washed the dishes after dinner. Her mother-in-law came into the kitchen and ran a finger over the countertop.
“You wiped this badly. There’s still water here. My kitchen must be perfectly clean.”
Taisia said nothing. She took the cloth and wiped it again. Irina Vsevolodovna nodded and left.
The next day, Taisia was dusting the living room. Her mother-in-law came down from upstairs and stopped in the doorway.
“You’re doing it wrong.”
“Excuse me?”
“You dust from top to bottom. First the chandelier, then the shelves, then the furniture. You’re doing it the other way around. Now the dust will settle back onto everything you already cleaned.”
Taisia squeezed the cloth in her hand.
“I just wanted to help.”
“Help must be done properly. Otherwise, it isn’t help. It only creates more work for me.”
Irina Vsevolodovna walked away.
Taisia stood in the middle of the living room with the cloth in her hand, feeling her cheeks burn with shame. She wanted to throw everything down and leave.
But there was nowhere to go.
That evening, Taisia tried to speak with Mark. They were sitting in their room. He was scrolling through job listings on his phone.
“Mark, this is hard for me. Your mother keeps making comments. I don’t wash dishes properly, I don’t dust properly. I feel like a servant.”
Mark did not look up from the screen.
“Taisia, Mom is just worried about us. She wants everything to be right.”
“She humiliates me.”
“Don’t exaggerate. That’s just her personality. She’s a perfectionist. She’s like that with everyone.”
“Mark, I’m serious. I feel awful here.”
Only then did Mark look at her.
“Taisia, just be patient a little longer. I’ll find a job and we’ll move out. One month, two at most.”
“And if you don’t?”
“I will. I promise.”
But a month passed, and Mark still had no job. He went to a couple of interviews, but nothing came of them. Either he lacked experience, or the salary did not suit him. Taisia kept working and bringing home money. Mark stayed at home and spent more and more time at the computer.
Irina Vsevolodovna’s pressure grew stronger. Her sharp remarks now came almost every day.
“Taisia, you bought cheap bread again? In my house, people eat proper food, not this garbage.”
“I’m sorry, Irina Vsevolodovna. Money is a little tight right now…”
“Of course it is. My son is unemployed. Though if you were a proper wife, you would have been able to motivate him. Support him. Instead, all you do is whine.”
Taisia stood in the kitchen, holding a grocery bag in her hands. She wanted to answer, but the words would not come.
Or there was this:
“Mark deserved a better match. A girl from a respectable family. With education. Not a warehouse worker from the provinces.”
“I did get an education…”
“What education? A technical school? That is not education. That is a piece of paper.”
Taisia lowered her eyes and remained silent.
Inside, everything tightened from hurt and anger. But she could not answer back. She was afraid. Afraid that Irina Vsevolodovna would throw them out. Afraid they would end up on the street with nothing.
Mark did not notice. Or pretended not to.
Whenever Taisia tried to talk to him about his mother, he brushed her off.
“Taisia, she only wants what’s best.”
“Mark, she insults me!”
“She’s not insulting you. She’s just expressing her opinion.”
“Her opinion is that I’m not good enough for you?”
“Well, she is my mother. Mothers always think their sons deserve the best.”
“And what do you think?”
Mark shrugged.
“I think we’re just going through a difficult time. Soon everything will get better.”
But nothing got better.
Mark continued to sit without work. Taisia continued to endure humiliation from her mother-in-law. And with each passing day, she understood more clearly that her husband was not going to defend her.
For Mark, his mother would always come before his wife.
One evening at dinner, Irina Vsevolodovna announced:
“My birthday is next week. I’m turning sixty. I want to arrange a small dinner. I’ll invite the neighbors and some relatives.”
Mark nodded.
“Of course, Mom. Whatever you want.”
His mother looked at Taisia.
“I hope you’ll help with the cooking. And with the groceries. I am not going to pay for my own celebration.”
Taisia froze with her fork halfway to her mouth.
“You mean…”
“I mean you will buy everything necessary and prepare the food. You are the daughter-in-law. It is your duty.”
“But I don’t have that kind of money…”
“Find it. Borrow it. Sell something. That is not my concern. I expect a proper table. Is that clear?”
Taisia looked at Mark.
Her husband avoided her eyes and picked at his food with a fork.
“Clear,” Taisia said quietly.
The following week became a blur of exhausting preparations. She took out a small credit loan on her card and went to the market. She chose the best meat, fresh fish, vegetables, fruit. Vendors smiled and offered her the most expensive products. Taisia counted silently in her head how much money she had left.
It was not enough.
She had to use the last of her savings, the money she had kept for an emergency.
On the day of the celebration, Taisia got up at five in the morning and began cooking. She chopped vegetables for salads, boiled meat, roasted potatoes, prepared fish, baked, cleaned, arranged, and washed. Her hands hurt from all the work. Her back ached.
Irina Vsevolodovna appeared in the kitchen around nine and looked over the covered pots.
“Is the meat ready?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll taste it.”
Her mother-in-law took a fork, cut off a piece, and tasted it. Then she grimaced.
“A bit dry. You shouldn’t have roasted it for so long.”
Taisia stood by the stove, looking at the tray of meat. She was sure she had done everything correctly. But she kept silent.
“Let’s check the salad,” Irina Vsevolodovna said, opening a bowl and tasting it with a spoon. “Too salty.”
“I barely added any salt…”
“Then the mayonnaise was too salty. You should have bought a different one.”
Taisia clenched her fists.
She breathed deeply, trying to calm herself.
She could not break down.
Not now.
The birthday dinner began at six in the evening. The guests arrived: two of Irina Vsevolodovna’s neighbors, a second cousin with her husband, and a niece. Everyone sat at the large table in the living room.
The table was covered with a snow-white cloth and crowded with dishes. Salads, cold cuts, roasted duck, fish, pies, and a cake.
Irina Vsevolodovna received compliments with a pleased smile.
“Ira, everything looks so beautiful!”
“Did you cook all this yourself? What a wonderful hostess you are!”
Her mother-in-law smiled and nodded.
“Oh, I tried my best. I wanted to make you all happy.”
Taisia stood near the kitchen door, listening and unable to believe what she was hearing.
Her mother-in-law had taken credit for all her work. She had not even mentioned that her daughter-in-law had cooked everything.
Mark sat beside his mother, pouring wine for the guests. He did not look toward his wife.
Taisia sighed heavily and walked to the table. She found an empty chair in the corner and sat down.
The guests were talking and laughing. Suddenly Taisia felt how hungry she was. She had eaten nothing since morning. She had spent the whole day at the stove.
She reached toward the plate of cold cuts. Taking a fork, she was about to put a couple of slices onto her plate.
Then someone’s hand sharply grabbed her wrist.
Taisia lifted her head.
Mark.
Her husband was looking at her with a strange expression — a mixture of irritation and arrogance.
“Until my mother allows it, don’t touch the table!” Mark snapped loudly, so loudly that every guest fell silent and turned to look.
He pushed his wife’s plate aside and moved her hand away from the dish.
Taisia froze.
The fork slipped from her fingers and fell onto the tablecloth.
She stared at her husband and could not understand whether this was real or some nightmare.
Irina Vsevolodovna gave a satisfied nod.
“That’s right, son. Some people need to be put in their place when they forget basic manners.”
Then she turned to the guests and pointed at Taisia.
“You see? She is the first one to grab food. In someone else’s house. She could not even wait until the hostess began. No upbringing at all.”
Irina Vsevolodovna’s niece giggled. The neighbors exchanged glances. The second cousin looked at Taisia with sympathy, but said nothing.
“She is always like this,” her mother-in-law continued. “She reaches for the best pieces first. Fills her plate before everyone else. Thinks only of herself. I told Mark so many times — she is not the right woman. But he wouldn’t listen. He fell in love.”
Taisia sat and listened.
And then something inside her snapped.
It simply snapped, like an overstretched rubber band.
All the humiliations, all the insults, all the petty criticism suddenly crashed over her in one wave. And there was no strength left to endure.
Taisia stood up from the table abruptly.
The chair tipped backward and fell to the floor with a loud crash.
Everyone went silent.
“I am not going to tolerate this anymore,” Taisia said.
Her voice trembled, but it was loud.
Mark jumped to his feet.
“Taisia, calm down…”
“Do not touch me!”
She stepped back when he tried to grab her hand.
“For three months I have lived in this house. For three months I have listened to your mother humiliate me. For three months I have watched you stay silent while she treats me like a servant.”
“Taisia, not now…”
“Yes. Now!” she shouted. “I bought every product on this table! I cooked all day! And your mother took credit for my work. And you… you did not even defend me.”
Irina Vsevolodovna rose from her seat.
“How dare you make a scene in my house?”
“In your house, I feel like an outcast! You constantly remind me that I am not worthy of your son. That I am provincial, uneducated, poor!”
“Because it is true!”
“Maybe it is! But I am a human being. I have the right to be respected!”
Taisia turned and went toward the stairs. She climbed to the second floor. Her hands were shaking so badly she could barely open the door to their room.
She went inside and began throwing her things into a bag. Clothes, without folding them. Documents. Phone. Charger.
Footsteps sounded behind her.
Irina Vsevolodovna stopped in the doorway.
“And where do you think you’re going?” she asked mockingly.
Taisia did not answer. She continued packing.
“You have nowhere to go,” her mother-in-law went on. “No money. No home. You’ll end up on the street.”
Taisia zipped the bag and turned to face her.
“Being on the street would be better than staying here.”
“Proud, are you?” Irina Vsevolodovna smirked. “Pride won’t feed you. You’ll be back in a couple of days. Crawling on your knees.”
Taisia walked past her.
She went downstairs. The guests were still sitting at the table, staring at her. Mark stood by the staircase.
“Taisia, wait…”
“Move.”
“Taisia, we’ll discuss this…”
“There is nothing left to discuss.”
She pushed past her husband and walked out.
The cold evening air hit her face as she stepped onto the porch. It was October. Darkness came early. The street was already nearly black.
Taisia walked down the path to the gate. She went out into the street and stopped.
Where could she go?
She did not know.
So she simply walked forward.
Her legs carried her on their own.
The phone in her pocket began vibrating. She took it out and looked at the screen.
Mark was calling.
She rejected the call.
The phone rang again.
She rejected it again.
She reached the bus stop and sat on the bench. Opening the taxi app, she ordered a car. In the address field, she typed: Bus Station.
The order was accepted.
Taisia sat and looked into the darkness. Tears ran down her cheeks. She did not hold them back. She simply sat there and cried.
The taxi arrived ten minutes later. She got into the back seat.
“To the bus station,” she told the driver.
“All right.”
During the drive, her phone did not stop ringing. Mark sent message after message. Taisia did not read them. She only looked out the window at the city lights passing by.
At the bus station, she bought a ticket for the nearest bus to her hometown. The bus was leaving in an hour. Taisia sat in the waiting hall, clutching her bag in her arms.
People sat around her. Some slept on benches, some ate sandwiches, some stared at their phones. An ordinary evening at the bus station.
But inside Taisia, there was nothing.
Only a huge emptiness.
The bus arrived on time. Taisia took a seat by the window and placed her bag on her lap.
The bus began to move.
The city was left behind. Ahead lay dark fields and the rare lights of villages. Taisia pressed her forehead against the cold glass and closed her eyes.
Her phone rang again.
She looked at the screen.
Mark.
Thirty missed calls. Twenty messages.
She did not read them. She simply muted the phone and put it in her pocket.
She remained silent the entire way. She looked out the window and thought about the fact that her marriage was over.
It had ended the moment her husband chose his mother’s side.
The moment he pushed her plate away.
The moment he told her, in front of everyone, not to touch the table.
The bus arrived in her hometown before dawn. It was around five in the morning and still dark.
Taisia stepped out onto the station square and looked around.
Familiar streets. Familiar houses.
Everything was just as she remembered from childhood.
She walked on foot. Her parents’ house was about twenty minutes away. She walked slowly, dragging her bag. She did not want to hurry.
Finally, she reached the familiar house on the edge of town. She climbed the porch and rang the doorbell.
Her mother opened the door.
Anna Yuryevna was a woman of about fifty, with a tired face and kind eyes. When she saw her daughter standing there with a bag, tear-stained and exhausted, she understood everything at once.
“My dear girl,” was all she said.
She embraced Taisia and held her tightly.
Taisia buried her face in her mother’s shoulder and began to cry. Real tears. Heavy tears.
Anna Yuryevna silently stroked her back and whispered soothing words.
“Come in. Come inside, my dear.”
They brought Taisia into the house and sat her on the sofa. Her mother made hot tea and wrapped her in a blanket. She did not ask questions. She simply sat beside her and held her hand.
“Rest, sweetheart. We’ll talk later.”
Taisia was taken to her old childhood room. Everything was still in the same place: the bed by the window, the wardrobe, the desk. Old posters still hung on the walls.
She lay down on the bed and pulled the blanket over herself. Then she closed her eyes.
She woke up around noon. Sunlight shone through the window.
For a while, Taisia lay still, looking at the ceiling. Then she got up, washed her face, and went to the kitchen.
Anna Yuryevna was preparing lunch. She turned and saw her daughter.
“Did you sleep?”
“Yes.”
“Sit down. Eat.”
Taisia sat at the table. Her mother placed a bowl of soup in front of her and sliced some bread.
“Do you want to tell me?”
Taisia looked at her mother.
And then she told her everything.
About losing the apartment. About moving in with her mother-in-law. About the humiliations. About the birthday dinner.
Anna Yuryevna listened quietly. Sometimes she shook her head.
When Taisia finished, her mother took her hand.
“You have the right to respect, my daughter. Do not allow anyone to treat you like a rag. Not even your husband.”
“Mom, I don’t know what to do now…”
“What do you want to do?”
Taisia thought for a moment.
“Not go back. I know that for certain.”
“Then don’t go back. Stay here until you get back on your feet.”
The next few days, Taisia stayed at home. She hardly left her room. She lay in bed, stared at the ceiling, and thought.
Mark called every day. He wrote messages. He begged her to come back. He promised everything would change.
Taisia did not answer.
A week later, Anna Yuryevna came into her daughter’s room.
“Taisia, this can’t go on. You cannot lie here forever.”
“I know.”
“You have to start living again.”
Taisia sat up in bed.
“I don’t know how.”
“Start small. Find a job. Take care of yourself. Your father and I will support you.”
Taisia looked at her mother with gratitude.
“Thank you.”
The next day, she began looking for work.
There were not many vacancies in their small town, but one suitable position appeared — administrator at a local hotel. The salary was modest, but stable. Taisia passed the interview and was hired.
The first weeks were difficult. She had to get used to the new work, the new schedule, the new version of her life. In the evenings, she returned to her room and did not know what to do with herself.
But little by little, she began to adjust.
She made new acquaintances — colleagues at work, neighbors, people in town. She started taking walks in the evening and going to the local library.
Mark still called, but less often.
Once, Taisia answered.
He begged her to meet and talk. Taisia refused. She explained that she was not coming back and that she wanted a divorce.
Mark shouted. He accused her of destroying the family.
Taisia listened calmly.
Then she simply ended the call.
After that, she stopped answering him altogether.
Taisia filed for divorce. The process moved slowly, but she was not in a hurry. She kept working and living her life.
Gradually, she changed.
Outwardly and inwardly.
Her colleagues noticed that Taisia had become more confident, calmer. She stopped apologizing for every little thing. She began to express her opinion. She began to protect her boundaries.
Anna Yuryevna looked at her daughter with pride.
“You’re doing well, my girl. You’re managing.”
Taisia smiled.
“I’m trying, Mom.”
Three months after leaving Irina Vsevolodovna’s house, Taisia received her divorce certificate.
She stepped out of the building and took a deep breath.
Free.
Officially free.
Life went on.
Taisia worked and saved money. She dreamed of one day returning to the big city — but this time on her own terms.
She learned to trust people again. Carefully. Slowly.
At work, she met a man — a hotel guest who had come to town on business. They began talking, exchanged numbers, and sometimes called or texted each other.
Taisia did not rush.
She did not throw herself into a new relationship blindly. She simply communicated, got to know him, and listened to herself.
This time, she knew her boundaries clearly.
She knew she deserved respect.
And that was the most important thing.
She had learned to respect herself. She had learned to say no. She had learned to walk away from people who caused her pain.
The breakup with Mark was not a disaster.
It was liberation.
A chance to begin again.
On her own terms.
And Taisia used that chance.