Sometimes love doesn’t break against the stormy cliffs of betrayal or the icy rocks of indifference, but against the invisible barrier of family ties woven through years of upbringing. That evening, when those words came from the phone screen, I finally understood that all this time I had been just a temporary guest in my husband’s life—a random character who invaded someone else’s territory where the main roles had long been assigned.
“Pack your things and free the apartment for me and the child,” Marina’s voice rang with the certainty of someone demanding what was indisputably theirs by right. The space between Sergey and me suddenly filled with invisible figures of his relatives who had always silently been present at our table, in our bed, in every decision we made. And by my husband’s look, I already knew whose side he would take.
Our story began quite ordinarily. Sergey won me over with his attentiveness and care—things I sorely missed in my past relationships. I was touched that he remembered small details from my stories and was always interested in my affairs. Gradually, our relationship grew into something more, and we decided to marry. Back then, I did not yet realize that I was marrying not just Sergey, but also his family, especially his sister Marina.
The first warning signs appeared even before the wedding, when I met Sergey’s family. Marina behaved extremely jealously.
“Dear ones, finish your salad, don’t leave any,” suggested Tatyana Vladimirovna, Sergey’s mother, as we all dined together.
“Sergey, please pass me the salad, I’ll finish it,” I asked my fiancé.
Sergey reached for the dish, but Marina beat him to it, swiftly grabbing the salad bowl and piling the contents onto her plate.
“Oh, you wanted some too? Sorry, Yulia, I didn’t notice,” she said with feigned regret.
It was just a salad, and I didn’t pay much attention to such a small incident. But even this insignificant detail showed me that Marina did not like me.
“I need to pick up car parts tomorrow,” Sergey announced during dinner.
“Great, I’m off that day, let’s go together,” I offered.
“Oh, brother, take me with you! I love riding with you in the car!” Marina immediately exclaimed.
“We can go as a trio,” Sergey suggested.
“No!” his sister sharply objected. “I want to go only with you, just the two of us!”
I didn’t like Marina’s behavior but decided not to start a conflict.
“Go together, I’ll stay home and rest,” I conceded.
Marina smiled triumphantly, as if she had won a battle.
Gradually, I noticed Marina had a special relationship with money. She believed her brother was her personal ATM, obligated to finance all her whims. Later I learned that Tatyana Vladimirovna raised her children with the firm conviction that women should manage the home while men earn and support the family.
I didn’t find anything unusual in this—many families hold such views. But in Sergey’s family, everything was turned upside down—Marina, not the parents or wife, was the center of attention and care.
“Sergey, I want this hoodie, will you order it for me?” Marina showed her brother the screen of her phone with another purchase.
“You already have plenty of hoodies, why do you need another?” Sergey wondered.
“Well, dear Sergey, please! This one is special, with embroidery on the sleeve! Look how beautiful it is!” Marina showed a photo.
“I think you already have one exactly like that.”
“No! You don’t understand! That one has a cat, this one has a butterfly! They’re in fashion now, I really want it. If you don’t buy it, I’ll complain to Mom.”
“All right, here you go,” Sergey sighed, counted out the money, and handed it to his sister.
“Thanks, brother, you’re the best!” Marina kissed him on the cheek.
I was sitting at the computer working but could clearly hear the whole conversation. They didn’t see my reaction, but I demonstratively sighed heavily when my husband gave in to his sister once again.
Such situations happened regularly. Marina loved shopping, which my husband usually paid for. She didn’t have a husband—he ran away as soon as he found out she was pregnant. Now Marina was a single mother living with her mother.
Before, Marina rarely asked her brother for money, and I understood that. But after the child was born, the situation changed drastically—now she practically lived off Sergey. Or rather, off our shared resources.
Sergey and I lived in my grandmother’s apartment. He worked as a financial analyst, and I was a remote graphic designer. We had a joint budget, so the money for Marina came from our combined savings.
“Sergey, don’t you think it’s unfair that you give money to your sister from our joint budget? That includes my share, and I never agreed to support your sister,” I once said, unable to hold back.
“I don’t give her that much, Yulia. She’s my sister, I can’t leave her in a tough spot.”
“You’re supporting her completely, Sergey. Not just you, but me too. I spend most of my salary on food, utilities, and other shared expenses. I understand Marina has it hard, but she asks not only for necessities but also for clothes she already has plenty of.”
“So what?”
“So what? I would have found a job long ago if I were her. Her child is already in kindergarten. What does she do all day? Rest?”
“She helps Mom with housework while she’s at work.”
“What’s there to do all day? You can easily work at least half a day and still manage the house. But your sister prefers begging you for money for all sorts of trinkets.”
“Yulia, that’s her business how she organizes her life. If she’s comfortable, let her live like that.”
“No problem, but she spends our money, Sergey! I never agreed to that.”
“And what do you suggest? Leave my sister without a penny? Where should she get money?”
“Let’s split the budget. Your money is yours, mine is mine. Then you can send your sister as much as you want, and I’ll know my money stays mine.”
“Interesting proposal. Are you really sorry to give a couple thousand to my sister?”
“To be honest, yes. I’m ready to help her sometimes, but not constantly. I think that would be fairer for everyone.”
Sergey was offended for several days but eventually agreed to my proposal. I felt better knowing my money wouldn’t go to support my sister-in-law. I could never understand why an adult woman, already a mother, couldn’t take responsibility for her life and used her brother as a walking wallet.
Because of this, Marina and I had a tense relationship even before my marriage to Sergey. From the start, she treated me with open jealousy.
I didn’t like such a family dynamic, and we often argued when he preferred helping his sister instead of spending time with me or helping me. It wasn’t jealousy but that Sergey and I had agreed on things beforehand, but as soon as his sister called or his mother scolded him, he immediately forgot about me and rushed to rescue his family.
I noticed our relationship with Sergey gradually cooled. And all because of the interference of his mother and sister. Every weekend Marina bothered my husband—to go buy groceries, to replace a lightbulb, or even to cook dinner. All this despite the fact she lived with their mother. Meanwhile, I worked, managed the household, carried heavy grocery bags, and bought everything needed for the home.
One day we learned that Tatyana Vladimirovna had met a man. Sergey and Marina’s father left them as teenagers to start a new family. For several years, their mother lived alone, but now she seemed to have found someone she wanted to build a relationship with.
Predictably, Marina didn’t like this. Her mother’s new partner started living with them, and Marina and her child felt cramped. And a “brilliant” plan was born in her head—to move in with her brother. She called Sergey while we were having dinner.
“Basically, Sergey, I don’t want to live with this mom’s boyfriend and the kid in one apartment. It’ll be cramped.”
“So what have you decided?”
“I’m moving in with you! You won’t abandon your own sister with a baby, right? You’re my beloved brother.”
“Well, I…”
“Before I arrive, your wife has to vacate her own apartment,” declared my sister-in-law.
Sergey was on speakerphone, so I heard the entire conversation. My appetite instantly vanished—I realized a serious conflict was ahead. Marina had finally crossed all boundaries.
“No, Sergey, not even up for discussion,” I firmly cut in.
“Listen, Yulia…”
“Are you serious? Are you really considering this? Are you okay?”
“Don’t yell at me, hear me out first. Marina is my sister, I can’t let her and her child live in unsuitable conditions. At least temporarily, they can stay here. And you can move in with your parents.”
“Do you hear what you’re suggesting? This is my apartment, and you want to evict me for your sister and her child! I’m not going anywhere.”
“Yulia! You’re a real selfish person!” Sergey raised his voice. “Instead of being noble, you could help my sister. There’s nothing wrong with living with parents until I find a suitable apartment for Marina.”
“I’m speechless, Sergey! You’re kicking me out of my own home for your spoiled sister!”
“Don’t you dare insult my sister! She’s my closest person, and I think about her first! Without me, she’d be lost.”
“You’re repeating your mother’s words, not your own. Your sister is an adult! She has a child she should care for first. She should have gotten a job a long time ago and supported her child herself instead of squeezing the last coins out of you!”
“She doesn’t squeeze money from me!”
“Sure she does! When was the last time you bought groceries? Remind me! I’m the one doing all that, managing the house and fixing everything that breaks. And you spend your whole salary on your sister. And what about me?”
“And you think you’re better than my sister? You only complain and are jealous of me spending time with my sister! Aren’t you ashamed, Yulia?”
“Me? Ashamed? You should be ashamed of your behavior! I can’t do this anymore. Either you stop being manipulated by your sister and mother, or we break up,” I put my foot down.
“You know what I’ll choose.”
“I want to hear it from you.”
“Mom and sister are my family. I will always help them and put them first.”
“Then it’s clear. Pack your things.”
“And where do you think I’m going?”
“I don’t care.”
I went to the bathroom because tears were welling up in my eyes. It was unbearably painful and humiliating that the husband I loved chose his sister, who treated him selfishly. Apparently, my mother-in-law also saw nothing wrong with her son supporting his sister and neglecting his wife.
I heard Sergey pack his things, then the front door slammed. When I came out, the apartment seemed empty, just like my soul. I was overwhelmed with sadness that it had ended this way. My husband didn’t even try to resist the wishes of his family, fully submitting to their will.
It took me a long time to recover, but the longer I lived alone, the better I felt. The constant stress disappeared, along with the mother-in-law and the brazen sister-in-law, the endless quarrels and tension vanished. Gradually, I came to realize I had made the right choice. I no longer wanted to deal with such a family and soon understood I had no regrets about how things turned out. A new life began for me—one where there was no place for those who did not know how to respect me and my boundaries.