Olga pressed “end call” and stared blankly at her phone. The same thing again. Third day in a row.
“Hi, Mom! We’re at Grandma Galya’s! It’s so cool here! She made pies! When are you coming?”
In the background, her mother-in-law’s voice always chimed in: “Alisochka, tell Mommy that we love you! That we’re taking good care of you!”
Olga’s thoughts tangled. They were supposed to be home. Sergey promised. The sanatorium where she’d hoped for rest had turned into torment. The treatments were helping, she was finally sleeping better, but every call home frayed her nerves.
“Damn it!” Olga threw the phone onto the bed.
Next door, her roommate turned on the TV. The clock read 9:17 p.m. Lights out wasn’t for a while yet.
She opened her chat with her husband.
“Seryozha, you’re at your parents’ again? We had an agreement…”
The message had sat there unanswered for an hour. Typical. First it’s “Sorry, Mom offered to help,” then “What’s the big deal? Alisa’s fine.”
The phone beeped.
“Olya, don’t start. Mom really helps out. I’m exhausted from work. What’s wrong if Grandma spends time with her granddaughter?”
“And what about the fact that I asked you not to?” she muttered out loud, typing a reply.
“Seryozha, when I left, you PROMISED you’d manage on your own. I asked you not to leave Alisa with your mom for long.”
“Come on, why are you overreacting again?”
Olga tossed the phone aside. The same vicious circle. Seven years of it. As soon as she mentioned her mother-in-law, Sergey went into silent defense mode.
“How is this fair?!” She jumped up and paced the room. “Is it really that hard to respect my wishes?”
A call from Katya came right on cue.
“Hey, how are you?” her friend’s voice sounded cautious.
“Oh, you know… fine. Except no one’s home, they’re all hanging out at his mom’s.”
“Listen, I dropped by your place yesterday… wanted to see Alisa.”
“And?” Olga tensed.
“Well… they’re basically living at your mother-in-law’s. I stayed there for half an hour. Galina Nikolaevna was saying some pretty nasty things…”
“Like what?”
“Well…” Katya hesitated. “That finally the child is ‘under proper care,’ that you’re ‘always nervous, and that’s no way to raise kids.’”
Olga gripped the phone until her knuckles turned white.
“Go on.”
“She called some friend right in front of me, bragging that ‘her son had finally seen the light.’ And then… Olya, Alisa asked when you’d be back, and your mother-in-law said, ‘Mommy’s resting; she might stay longer if she’s enjoying herself so much.’”
“She said what?!” Olga felt herself boiling inside.
“Olya, that’s not all. I saw they’d brought over loads of Alisa’s things. Clothes, toys… like they’re planning for her to stay long-term.”
The room blurred. Olga collapsed on the bed.
“Thanks, Katya. Now I know what to do.”
“Are you okay?”
“I will be. Soon.”
After hanging up, Olga opened her laptop. Twenty minutes later, she had a bus ticket for 6 a.m. tomorrow—three days ahead of schedule. She wasn’t telling anyone.
She texted Sergey briefly: “Don’t worry, I’m fine. Treatments are helping. Kiss Alisa for me.”
Olga packed but couldn’t sleep. Memories kept flashing by: Galina Nikolaevna criticizing her cooking in front of guests, saying, “Alisochka is so skinny; you don’t feed her at all,” instructing her how to “properly iron Seryozha’s shirts.”
And Sergey was always silent. “Mom means well,” “She’s just worried,” “Ignore her.” And that endless “be patient.”
Morning was damp and chilly. Olga shivered at the bus stop. The bus was late, and she seethed at the whole world.
“I’ve been patient for seven. Damn. Years.”
When she finally got to her apartment, it was past noon. She unlocked the door and froze. Silence. Emptiness. The smell of an unused room.
“Son of a—” She rushed to the nursery.
The closet was empty. Alisa’s favorite toys, books, clothes—all gone. Only old outgrown things remained.
She dialed Katya.
“Olya? Where are you?” her friend sounded surprised.
“Home. Came back early. Katya, the place is empty. They took all of Alisa’s things. Everything.”
“Damn… What are you going to do?”
“Going to them. Right now.”
“Maybe calm down first?” Katya ventured carefully.
“I’m calm. Absolutely.”
Olga ordered a taxi. All the way to her in-laws’, she rehearsed the coming confrontation—from a polite “I’m taking my daughter home” to an ultimatum with threats.
She got out a block away, deciding to approach unnoticed.
In their courtyard, Olga heard a familiar voice. Galina Nikolaevna stood by the entrance with a neighbor. Olga slowed and hid behind some bushes.
“…My son finally realized his wife isn’t right for him,” she heard. “We’ll tell her after the sanatorium that Seryozha and Alisa are staying with us.”
“And she’ll agree?” the neighbor asked.
“Where can she go? Sergey’s the father. He has rights. And the girl’s better off with us. Stability, routine. None of her mother’s hysterics and nerves.”
Olga trembled. Her nails dug into her palms.
Her mother-in-law said goodbye to the neighbor and went inside. Olga waited for the door to close, then followed.
The apartment door was unlocked. Voices drifted from the living room. Olga slipped in and froze in the hallway.
“…We’ll explain gently that she can’t handle raising the child,” the mother-in-law was saying. “Sergey, you need to be firm. It’s for the child’s good.”
“Mom, maybe we shouldn’t be so harsh?” Sergey’s voice sounded unsure. “Olga is still her mother…”
“What kind of mother is she?” Galina snorted. “Nervous, always working. The girl needs structure, care…”
“She’s right,” Sergey’s father chimed in. “We’ll tell her: you see the kid on weekends.”
Olga took a deep breath and stepped into the room. Around the table sat her in-laws, Sergey, and his sister Natasha. Alisa watched cartoons in the next room.
“What an interesting little gathering,” Olga said coldly.
Everyone froze. Sergey paled.
“Olya? You were supposed to…”
“I was supposed to do a lot of things, Seryozha. But you, I see, don’t owe me a thing. Not even basic respect.”
“Olechka,” her mother-in-law forced a smile, “why are you back so early? We wanted to meet you…”
“And tell me I’ll only see my daughter on weekends? Is that your plan, Seryozha?”
“I… we were just talking…”
“Mama!” Alisa ran in and jumped into Olga’s arms.
Olga hugged her tight. Alisa smelled of her grandmother’s perfume.
“Mommy, you’re here! Grandma said you’d be in treatment a long time!”
“No, honey, I’m all better now,” Olga kissed her daughter’s head and set her down. “Go pack your toys, we’re going home.”
“Home? Where home?” the mother-in-law rose. “Alisochka, go finish your cartoon. Adults need to talk.”
“No,” Olga took her daughter’s hand. “Alisa is coming with me. Right now.”
“Olya, what’s with the scene?” Sergey finally snapped out of it. “Let’s talk calmly.”
“Talk?” she turned to him. “You’ve already talked plenty—without me. While I was at the sanatorium, you plotted to take my child.”
“No one decided anything,” Sergey spread his hands. “Mom just suggested—”
“Yes, I suggested!” Galina cut in. “And what’s wrong with that? The child is better off with us! You’re always yelling, nervous. Here she has Grandma, Grandpa, Dad…”
“Seryozha,” Olga ignored her, “you have five minutes to decide: are you a husband and father, or just your mama’s boy? I’m taking Alisa and leaving. Are you coming with us or staying here?”
Silence. Galina flushed crimson.
“How dare you talk to your husband like that? Lost your mind? Sergey, don’t let her boss you around!”
Sergey’s eyes darted between his mother and his wife.
“Olya, let’s not be rash. Mom means well…”
“Clock’s ticking,” Olga cut him off. “Alisa, come on, let’s pack your things.”
“You’re not going anywhere!” the mother-in-law blocked the doorway. “Sergey, tell her! Alisa’s better off here!”
“Mama, move,” Sergey said wearily. “Let them pass.”
“What?! You’ll let her take the child? After all we’ve done for you?”
“Galya, calm down,” his father intervened. “Let the girls pack. We’ll talk meanwhile.”
Reluctantly, Galina stepped aside. Olga led Alisa to the bedroom, toys scattered everywhere. She called a taxi while packing.
“Mama, why is Grandma yelling?” Alisa asked.
“She’s upset we’re leaving.”
“Are we leaving forever? What about Dad?”
“I don’t know, honey. That’s for Dad to decide.”
Raised voices carried from the living room: “ungrateful,” “after all we’ve done,” “are you a man or a doormat?”
When they came out with bags, only Sergey and his father were there. Galina demonstratively hid in the kitchen.
“Olya, can we at least talk?” Sergey looked worn out. “You’re putting me in an awful spot.”
“Me?” Olga smirked. “I wasn’t the one plotting to take your daughter. Are you coming with us?”
“Where?”
“To my parents’. Until we figure things out.”
Sergey shook his head. “Olya, why your parents’? Let’s just go home. I promise we’ll talk…”
“The taxi’s on its way. What’s your answer?”
“I… I can’t just leave. Mom will be upset.”
“I see.” Olga took Alisa’s hand. “Goodbye, Seryozha. Call me when you decide to grow up.”
“Daddy, aren’t you coming?” Alisa looked at him, puzzled.
“Daddy will come later, sweetheart,” Sergey crouched to her level. “I just need to finish something.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” He hugged her and kissed her forehead.
The taxi was already waiting outside. As they left, Galina burst from the kitchen.
“Sergey! You’ll let her take the child? I’m calling a lawyer! This is kidnapping!”
“Mom, stop,” Sergey said tiredly. “She’s her daughter.”
“Our daughter,” Olga corrected, locking eyes with him. “But you made your choice.”
Six months later, Olga sat in a small café, waiting for Sergey. As usual, he was late. Fifteen minutes. Once that would have made her anxious; now she simply ordered another tea.
The door opened, Sergey hurried to her table.
“Sorry, got held up at work,” he said, sitting down.
“It’s fine.” She shrugged. “I’m used to it.”
“How’s Alisa?”
“She’s good. Getting used to her new daycare. She likes it.”
Sergey nodded. Silence.
“Olya, I’ve been thinking… maybe we should try again? For Alisa’s sake.”
Olga set her cup down and looked at her ex-husband steadily.
“Seryozha, we’ve already been over this. I’m not coming back.”
“But Alisa needs her father!”
“You’re her father no matter what. No one’s stopping you from seeing her.”
“On weekends,” he said bitterly. “Just like your mother-in-law planned. Ironic, huh?”
“There’s a difference,” Olga shook her head. “I’m not forbidding you. The court set the visitation schedule, and you follow it. I don’t interfere.”
“Mama says—”
“There.” Olga held up a finger. “You’re doing it again. ‘Mama says.’ What do you say, Sergey? Do you have your own opinion?”
He looked away. “She just worries. Wants to see her granddaughter.”
“And that’s why she calls my parents with threats? Spreads rumors that I’m a bad mother? Files complaints with child services?”
“She goes too far, I admit. But if you’d just let her see Alisa…”
“No,” Olga’s voice was firm. “Not until she admits she was wrong, not until she apologizes. I won’t let her hurt our daughter again.”
“She’s the grandmother, Olya. She has rights.”
“And I have a court ruling that clearly states: visits with the father happen without third parties unless I agree. And I don’t agree.”
Sergey sighed. “You know, I really thought I could sit on two chairs—be a good son and a good husband.”
“And ended up losing your family,” Olga finished. “I didn’t want it this way. But I couldn’t go on.”
“And now? Are you happier?”
For the first time during the meeting, Olga smiled.
“Yes. Much. New job, new apartment. Alisa’s stopped parroting Grandma’s lines about me being a bad mother. My mom helps with Alisa but doesn’t try to boss us around. And you know…” she paused, “I don’t feel guilty anymore for living differently than someone thinks I should.”
“And me?” Sergey asked quietly. “Do I have a chance to fix things?”
“As a father—of course. Come see your daughter, spend time with her, be there for her. But as a husband…” she shook her head. “No, Sergey. That chapter’s closed.”
“I understand,” he nodded sadly.
“You’ll have to choose: either you come alone to see her, or you don’t come at all. No Grandma lurking behind you.”
“Okay.” He raised his hands in surrender. “I agree to your terms.”
As they left the café, Olga felt a strange relief, as if the last heavy weight had slid off her shoulders.
“You know,” she said in parting, “I don’t regret marrying you. We have Alisa. But I’m glad I found the strength to leave.”
Sergey nodded. “I’ll call about the weekend.”
“Call. Alisa will be waiting.”
Olga walked through the autumn park, smiling. Ahead lay a whole life—without toxic relationships, without constant guilt, without having to justify every step. A life where she decided what was best for herself and her daughter.
And that was the best therapy of all.