Elena stood for a long time at the threshold of her mother-in-law’s apartment, gathering her courage. In her hands, she held a huge construction bag that barely fit in the elevator. The bag was so heavy that she had to stop three times on the way from the car to the entrance.
The doorbell rang decisively. A minute later, Valentina Petrovna—her husband Sergey’s mother—opened the door. The woman looked at Elena in surprise, then at the bag.
“Lenochka, did you come alone? Where’s Seryozha?” her mother-in-law’s voice sounded wary.
“Sergey is at work,” Elena answered briefly and, without waiting for an invitation, entered the apartment dragging the bag behind her.
In the room, as usual, the whole “honest company” had gathered: Sergey’s sister Irina with her husband Viktor and their teenage son Maksim, Sergey’s brother Andrey, who hadn’t officially worked for three years, and Valentina Petrovna herself. They all turned to Elena with curiosity.
“What’s that you’ve got?” Irina asked, nodding toward the bag.
Elena struggled to lift the bag and set it down on the table in the center of the room. The table creaked under the weight.
“Consider this humanitarian aid, and don’t set foot in our house again!” she said clearly and loudly.
Silence fell. Everyone looked at her, not understanding what was happening.
“Lena, have you gone crazy?” Irina was the first to speak. “What are you talking about?”
Elena untied the bag and began taking out the contents, laying everything on the table and sofa. Packs of buckwheat, rice, pasta, jars of canned food, new socks and t-shirts, thermal underwear, a frying pan, a pot, shower gels, toothpaste, shampoos, laundry detergent, toilet paper…
“Here,” she said, pointing at the spread-out things. “Everything you usually ask from us, beg for, and take. Now it’s all yours. Forever.”
“Lenka, what are you doing?” Andrey protested. “We’re family!”
“Family?” Elena laughed bitterly. “Do you know what family is? It’s when everyone helps each other, not when some only take and others only give.”
She scanned everyone present with her gaze. Valentina Petrovna sat with her mouth open, Irina nervously fiddled with the hem of her sweater, Viktor carefully avoided her gaze, and Maksim was inspecting the new t-shirts with interest.
“Five years,” Elena continued, “five years you come to visit us every weekend. But these aren’t visits—this is a locust swarm invasion. Valentina Petrovna, do you remember the last time you brought even bread? And you, Irina, when did you offer to help with cooking? Or at least wash the dishes?”
“We’re relatives,” muttered Irina. “Relatives don’t keep count…”
“Don’t keep count?” Elena took a worn notebook out of her purse. “Well, I did. Here, look. In the last year alone, you ate food from us worth forty-three thousand rubles. That’s not counting the utilities we pay when you live in our summer house all summer.”
She flipped a page.
“And here’s the list of things you asked for and that we gave you. Irina: multicooker—eight thousand, bedding set—four thousand, winter jacket for Maksim—twelve thousand. Andrey: tools—fifteen thousand, tracksuit—three thousand. Valentina Petrovna: medicines—eight thousand over the year, food from the dacha…”
“Enough!” Viktor exploded. “Are you some kind of witch? Who keeps count among relatives like that?”
“Someone who’s tired of being a cash cow!” Elena snapped back sharply. “Have you ever thought about why you never have money? Because you’re used to living at other people’s expense! Andrey, how many years have you been unemployed?”
“I have health problems,” he grumbled.
“Oh? Did you see a doctor? Get checked? Or do you prefer to lie on the couch whining that life is hard?”
“Lena, calm down,” Valentina Petrovna tried to intervene. “We didn’t mean to… We just thought everything was fine with you, so…”
“We’re fine because we work!” Elena cut her off. “Sergey works twelve hours a day, I have two jobs. We haven’t taken a vacation for three years because we’re saving for repairs. And you come here complaining you have no money for a holiday!”
She walked to the window, took a deep breath, and turned back.
“You know, the last straw was last month. Remember, Irina, how you came crying that Maksim had nothing to wear to school? We bought him a jacket, backpack, shoes. And a week later I saw photos on social media of your vacation in Turkey. In Turkey! And you didn’t have money for school clothes!”
Irina blushed and looked away.
“Victor’s parents paid for that,” she muttered.
“Then why didn’t they pay for the school clothes?” Elena asked sarcastically. “Apparently, they understand the difference between necessity and pleasure.”
Maksim suddenly looked up:
“Mom, why do we always ask Aunt Lena for stuff? Our dad works…”
“Shut up!” Irina snapped at him.
“No, let him speak,” Elena said. “Maksim, did your mom tell you that your dad earns more than my Sergey? Only he somehow spends his salary not on the family.”
Viktor frowned but said nothing.
“Lena, that’s enough already,” Valentina Petrovna said tiredly. “We get that you’re upset. But why with some bag like this…”
“Because otherwise you won’t get it,” Elena replied firmly. “I’m tired of your constant requests, of you treating our home like a charity fund. Tired of your complaints about poverty when it’s obvious you just don’t want to work or change anything in your life.”
She walked around the table, pointing at the things laid out.
“Here’s everything you usually ask for. Groceries for three months, canned goods, clothes, dishes, household chemicals. The cost is about thirty thousand rubles. This is my gift to you. The last one.”
“You’ve lost your mind!” Irina shrieked. “Does Sergey know about this?”
“Sergey is just as tired as I am,” Elena replied calmly. “He just didn’t dare to tell you because you’re family. But I dared. Because I’m his wife, and I won’t let you keep parasitizing our family.”
“How dare you!” Valentina Petrovna was outraged. “I’m Sergey’s mother!”
“So what?” Elena asked coldly. “Does that give you the right to sit on our necks? Valentina Petrovna, you’re sixty-two years old and healthy—why don’t you work?”
“At my age, no one hires…”
“No one hires? Then your pension should be enough. And if it’s not, cut expenses. Like we do when money is tight.”
Elena took her purse and headed for the door.
“Everything in the bag is yours. Use it, stretch it as you like. But don’t come to us anymore. No food, no money, no requests. The summer house is closed to you too. Want to rest? Rent one.”
“Lena, wait!” Andrey shouted. “You can’t just take and…”
“I can,” Elena cut him off. “And I am. I’m no longer going to work to support grown, healthy people who don’t want to do anything to improve their lives.”
“What about family relationships?” Valentina Petrovna asked plaintively.
“Have you ever cared about our affairs? Our problems?” Elena asked. “When Sergey was in the hospital, who visited him? When I had depression after losing a child, who supported me? You only remember we exist when you need something.”
She opened the door and looked back one last time:
“Family relationships are a two-way street. But ours turned into a one-way road—only going your way. I’m tired of being a road. Now I will be a person too. Goodbye.”
The door closed. Elena went down to the car feeling a heavy burden lift off her shoulders. For the first time in many years, she felt free.
At home, Sergey was waiting for her. He saw her face and understood everything.
“Did you take it?” he asked quietly.
“Took it.”
“How are they?”
“In shock,” Elena answered honestly. “But that’s their problem. Now let them figure out how to live.”
Sergey hugged her.
“You know, I wanted to do this for a long time but didn’t dare. Thank you for daring.”
For three months, they heard nothing from their relatives. No calls, no visits. Elena and Sergey enjoyed the peace, finally able to plan weekends without fearing an unexpected visit from hungry relatives.
Then a mutual acquaintance—Valentina Petrovna’s neighbor—told them:
“Did you know your relatives now go to Sergey’s cousin’s place? They say he recently bought an apartment, so they switched to him. Every weekend they crowd there.”
Elena just smiled. She didn’t regret her decision at all. Let someone else feed these forever-hungry, forever-needy grown children. And she and her husband finally had the chance to live for themselves.
Six months later, they flew on vacation to Turkey—the first time in years. And that was the best confirmation of the rightness of their decision.