— You’re going on vacation while I have two children! We don’t even have money to take them to an amusement park, and you’re planning to go abroad. It’s not fair. So I decided that I’ll go on vacation instead of you.
Kostya came home tired and gloomy. He didn’t even take off his shoes at once—he sat right down on the ottoman in the hallway and let out a heavy sigh. Olesya peeked out of the kitchen—her hair pulled into a ponytail, a towel in her hands.
“Kostya, you’re back already? Go wash your hands, dinner’s ready,” she said gently, smiling.
Today she’d managed to leave work early. She happily turned to the house: tossed the laundry in the washing machine, tidied up, and made a hot dinner—her husband’s favorite cabbage rolls. She wanted Kostya to feel cared for and wrapped in homey comfort.
But her husband didn’t seem to notice the aromas drifting from the kitchen. He ate in silence, staring into his plate, as if his thoughts were far away.
Olesya didn’t start asking questions—she knew it was better to wait until Kostya spoke himself. Only when they lay down to sleep did she touch his shoulder carefully and ask in a low voice:
“Kostya, what’s wrong? Some kind of problem at work?”
He sighed heavily again and said dully:
“The problem isn’t at work. Mom called.”
Olesya tensed. The name Alla Nikolaevna always stirred anxiety in her soul.
“What happened?”
“She demanded that I transfer twenty thousand to Sveta today.”
“Twenty?” Olesya repeated in surprise.
“Yes. To pay for a rented apartment. Mom’s argument is ironclad: we’re living in the apartment you inherited, while Sveta supposedly has it hard with her husband and two kids. And I’m her brother and obliged to help—those were her exact words.”
“Mm… but you’re the younger brother…” Olesya tried to object.
“That’s no argument for my mother. We don’t have kids, and we both work. Which means we’ve got money. I’ve been thinking about it all evening… On the one hand—my sister, she really does have kids. On the other… does that mean I’m supposed to keep supporting her family and helping them financially all the time now?”
Olesya stayed silent. She understood that any awkward word could turn into a quarrel. Yet a wave of indignation rose in her chest. This apartment was her memory of her grandmother. And now her mother-in-law was trying to reproach them for “living it up” while her daughter was “scraping by.”
Only the apartment was a Khrushchev-era place on the top floor: unbearable heat in summer, cold in winter. It had two small rooms and a very tiny kitchen. But the mother-in-law didn’t care. She believed that since Kostya had landed on his feet, he ought to help his sister. It had always been like that, for the three years Kostya and Olesya had been married.
Kostya sighed heavily and closed his eyes.
“I already give Mom money every month for her medicines, and I help out with little things. But twenty thousand is a bit much. I… I don’t know what to do. We were planning a vacation, and we need money ourselves.”
Olesya slowly stroked his shoulder.
“Kostya, I’m not against helping if it’s something truly serious. But you have to decide for yourself where the boundary is. Because if you say yes today, tomorrow they’ll ask for even more. And then you’ll feel like you’re on a short leash they can yank at any moment.”
He turned to her and met her gaze.
“I get it… that’s why I didn’t transfer the money today. But I’m thinking I’ll give at least half the amount. For the last time.”
Olesya nodded, understanding that this conversation was only the beginning.
The next day, as he was getting ready for work, Kostya did transfer ten thousand to Sveta. He decided that would be fair: to help a little, but not wreck their plans. He even wrote his sister a short message: “Sveta, I sent it. From now on, please manage on your own. Olesya and I are saving for our vacation.”
Kostya thought that would be the end of it. But less than an hour later, his phone rang. It was Alla Nikolaevna.
“Kostya!” Her voice trembled with indignation. “What is the meaning of this?! Why did you transfer the money to Sveta directly? You were supposed to send it to me! I would have handled it properly!”
“Mom…” Kostya rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily. “I sent it to Sveta right away because you said she needed help.”
“And the amount?” his mother cut him off. “Are you kidding me? Ten thousand? You can’t rent an apartment for peanuts like that!”
“Mom,” Kostya raised his voice, “I don’t have any more free funds. Olesya and I plan our expenses, too. We have a trip coming up. And, frankly, I’m under no obligation to support Sveta’s family.”
There was silence on the other end, but not for long.
“You’re heartless!” shouted Alla Nikolaevna. “She’s your sister! She has two children! And you live with everything handed to you!”
Those words stung.
“You know… I don’t mind helping. But let’s be honest. Sveta has to learn to budget. And her husband, Dima? Where is he? I see him almost every day at the bar near their house. There’s money for beer, but not for the family?”
Alla Nikolaevna sighed as if he’d said something outrageous.
“It’s none of your business how they live!”
“On the contrary, it is my business. Because you’re demanding that I cover part of their expenses,” Kostya shot back. “And I’m not going to pay for Dima’s bottles. Sveta looks the other way, forgives him everything, and I’m supposed to answer for it? No, that won’t continue.”
He hung up without waiting for a reply. For several minutes he sat motionless, clutching the phone in his hand. Anger boiled in his chest—at his mother, at his sister, at Dima, who refused to take responsibility for anything.
That evening, when Kostya came home, Olesya saw a resolve in his eyes she hadn’t seen before.
“So, did you transfer it?” she asked carefully.
“Yes, I did. And I told Mom the plain truth. And I won’t transfer any more money. Enough. Let Sveta figure out how to live from here on.”
Olesya hugged her husband and exhaled with relief. She knew the decision hadn’t come easily. But only now could their family truly become independent.
Olesya and Kostya were sure the whole story was behind them. Life returned to its usual rhythm. They managed to buy package tours in advance at a good price, and now they were slowly picking out clothes and the little things they needed for the trip. Every evening they discussed what to take with them and dreamed of spending two weeks together by the warm sea.
Almost a month had passed since that conversation between Kostya and Alla Nikolaevna. It seemed Kostya’s relatives had finally come to their senses. But one evening, just after Olesya returned from work and had changed into home clothes, the doorbell rang. She wasn’t even surprised—Kostya usually came later, but maybe this time he’d gotten off early.
Olesya opened the door—and froze in astonishment. Sveta was on the threshold. Alone, without her husband or the children. She had a bag in her hand, and her face showed a strange mix of confidence and irritation.
“Well, hello,” she said coolly, stepping into the apartment without waiting to be invited.
Olesya, flustered, pulled the door closed behind her.
“Hi, Sveta… Did something happen?”
“It did,” Kostya’s sister sprawled comfortably on the couch. “I know all about your vacation.”
Olesya frowned.
“And… what about it?”
“That’s the point. You’re going on a trip, and I have two children! We don’t even have money to take them to an amusement park, and you’re going abroad. It’s not fair. So I’ve decided I’ll go on vacation with Kostya instead of you.”
Olesya didn’t grasp it at once.
“What do you mean?” she barely breathed out.
“It’s simple. I’ll go with Kostya. And you’ll stay here with the kids. They’re your nephews, after all. You can watch them. That would be the right thing. And Kostya will back me—he’s always helped the family, and you’re not his priority. Clear?” Sveta declared with confidence, as if the matter were already settled.
Olesya’s eyes widened. Inside, a chill ran through her—from the sheer nerve and absurdity of the situation. And also from the fact that Sveta had dared to come with such a demand precisely when Kostya wasn’t home. Evidently, she had calculated it on purpose.
“I’m not giving you my ticket.”
Sveta lifted her chin.
“Oh really? And who’s going to ask your permission?” she sneered, stood up, and strolled along the bookshelves. “What are you going to do?”
Olesya looked at her with such an expression that any other woman would have been embarrassed long ago. But Sveta still looked self-assured, as if she set the rules here. And then the door opened and Kostya walked into the apartment.
In his hands he held a bouquet of white roses and a small gift bag. He was smiling—the fatigue of the workday dissolved in anticipation of congratulating Olesya on her birthday.
But within a second the smile vanished: Sveta was standing in the living room.
“Sveta?..” Kostya stopped on the threshold in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
Olesya rose from the chair, her hands clasped together. Her eyes were full of indignation. Sveta faltered for a moment when she saw her brother with the bouquet. Only then did it dawn on her that it was Olesya’s special day—something she hadn’t even remembered. But she quickly pulled herself together and spoke as if everything were going according to plan:
“I came to tell Olesya that I’m going on vacation with you.”
Kostya blinked, not understanding what he’d just heard.
“What?” He almost laughed at the absurdity, but when he saw his sister’s serious face, he froze.
“She lives far too well. And that, by the way, is thanks to you,” Sveta continued, as if reading from a prepared script. “And I haven’t had a vacation in ages. So I’m going with you, and your wife will stay with my kids.”
Kostya swung his gaze sharply to Olesya.
“Is that true? She… she said that to you?”
“Yes… Your sister has just proposed dumping her children on me while she takes my place on our long-awaited trip.”
Silence fell over the room. Still holding the bouquet and the gift, Kostya looked stunned. This was the last thing he’d wanted to come home to after a workday.
“Sveta…” his voice came out hoarse. “Do you even understand what you just said?”
But Sveta only raised her chin stubbornly and repeated:
“It would be fair.”
Kostya was in shock. He looked at his sister as if seeing her for the first time.
“Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to take your things and go back to your husband and children right now. We’ll all pretend this conversation never happened. This is complete nonsense!”
“Nonsense is you, at twenty-eight, gallivanting around Turkey while I, at thirty-five, sit at home with little kids. Don’t you think that’s unfair?!” Sveta burst out.
“No, I don’t. You got married at thirty. You had the chance to travel and earn money, but you always liked to live off Mom. And now that she can’t give you as much, you’ve switched to me. That won’t fly. I’ve already said so. You’re going to have to get a grip, finally! And start living properly—if only for the children’s sake!”
Kostya could hardly catch his breath. It seemed he’d blurted it all out in one go. Sveta, meanwhile, narrowed her eyes, shot Olesya a displeased look, and went to the hallway. The door slammed a moment later, and silence settled over the apartment.
Outside, Sveta gave the nearest trash bin a vicious kick, making it clang, and her foot immediately began to ache from the sudden blow. Her steps quickly faded into the darkness, leaving behind only the hum of tension still hanging in the apartment’s air.
Kostya stood motionless for a few seconds, trying to steady his breathing. Then he took a deep breath, unclenched his fingers, and handed his wife the bouquet of white roses.
“Happy birthday, my love,” he said softly, looking apologetically into Olesya’s eyes.
He gave her the little gift bag, too. Inside was a certificate to her favorite lingerie and swimwear store. Olesya opened it and couldn’t help smiling: a new bright swimsuit was exactly what she’d planned to buy for their upcoming trip.
“Thank you…” she whispered, hugging her husband.
“I’m sorry your special day was spoiled by that scene…” he continued contritely. “I didn’t want it to turn out that way. And I will never again allow anyone to interfere in our life.”
At that moment his phone vibrated in his pocket. “Mom” flashed on the screen again and again. Kostya looked at it heavily and, without a second thought, declined the call. Then again. And again. Finally he simply switched off the phone and set it on the nightstand.
“Today I want to spend time only with you. No more showdowns,” he said firmly, holding Olesya tighter.
And the trip really did happen. Olesya and Kostya flew off together, just as they’d dreamed. Everything was just as they’d imagined—soft sunshine, a warm sea, a cozy hotel. Each day was filled with laughter, walks, and the long-awaited calm.
Olesya and Kostya knew they still had many difficulties ahead, but this vacation became a symbol—a boundary after which they finally put their own family first. And that was the best decision of all.