Mom, I can’t live like this anymore!” Kristina’s voice trembled with strain, and she nervously clasped her fingers, digging her nails into her palms. The girl looked desperate.
Tamara lifted her eyes from the cup she was filling with fragrant bergamot tea. The woman’s gaze held genuine worry for her younger daughter, who, alas, had chosen not the wisest path in life.
“What happened, sweetheart?” Tamara asked. Even though she already knew what was going on in the girl’s life, she decided to give her a chance to speak. Maybe that would help her find a way out of this difficult situation.
“All of it… this constant race for money!” Kristina drew a deep breath, trying to pull herself together, but her voice betrayed her, shaking. “The kids are growing like weeds,” she gave a bitter little laugh, “every month they need new clothes because the old ones get too small! And the prices… you see how they keep rising! Like someone is cranking them up on purpose every single week!”
Tamara nodded silently, never taking her eyes off her daughter. She knew this wasn’t the time for empty comfort. She simply slid the cup of tea closer and listened carefully to Kristina’s complaints.
“Kolia works two jobs,” Kristina continued, wrapping her trembling hands around the cup. “He comes home exhausted, barely sees the family. He falls asleep over dinner, and the kids miss him so much. And his pay is only enough for the rented apartment and the bare essentials. Sometimes it’s not even enough for that,” she added, barely above a whisper.
Tamara let out a heavy sigh; deep sadness and understanding reflected in her eyes. She knew her daughter didn’t just need a mother’s sympathy right now—she needed real advice that could actually help her deal with everything.
But… Kristina had chosen this herself. After school she didn’t apply anywhere, just rushed to get married. And if only she’d found a decent fiancé! Kolia… yes, he worked two jobs, no one could deny that. But what kind of jobs were they? People had offered him more than once to change fields. Only the man flat-out refused. “All my friends are here,” he’d say—how could he leave? In reality, he just wouldn’t have anyone to drink with on weekends…
“I know, sweetheart,” Tamara said quietly. “Your father and I try to help, but our means aren’t limitless. We’re saving for retirement, for medical care, and the house needs repairs too.”
“But Vika’s means seem limitless,” Kristina couldn’t help herself; her voice shook again. “She could at least help her little sister a bit…”
Tamara froze, her hand holding the kettle suspended in midair. Vika… her older daughter, her support. A principled girl—she wasn’t about to help her sister just because she was asked. Especially after Kolia refused to change jobs.
No, Vika wasn’t some arrogant snob. She always helped her parents—repairs, vacations, groceries. But only her parents. Her sister she… looked down on, maybe. Vika couldn’t understand how you could have children when you had absolutely nothing to your name.
“Vika achieved everything herself,” Tamara finally said, her voice firm. In some ways, she agreed. “She studied hard, denied herself everything, worked without weekends, spared no effort to get what she has now. She went through a lot to build her life.”
“Yes, but can’t she share a little with family?” Kristina looked up, her eyes full of hurt and despair. “My kids have never been to the sea—not once. They’re growing up without even the simplest joys of childhood, and she travels all over the world every year. She posts photos on social media, and I look at them and my heart just bleeds. I watch other kids swimming in the sea, eating ice cream, riding rides… and mine…”
Her voice broke. She fell silent, struggling not to cry. Kristina preferred pressing on people’s pity rather than actually doing something.
Tamara remembered perfectly how her older daughter had fought her way to success. Independence and perseverance—that’s what had helped Vika get everything she wanted in life. She never asked for help and never accepted it, carving her path through thorns and hardship. Vika was brilliant.
And yet Tamara’s heart ached at the thought of her younger daughter. Kristina—her sweet girl—was living in cramped conditions with her husband and children. Tamara knew how hard it was for them: the tiny rental apartment, the constant fear of rent going up, the shortage of even the most basic things… Only they were to blame themselves. That couldn’t be denied.
Again and again, Tamara’s mind returned to that heavy conversation with Vika. She remembered every detail: how her daughter paced the room, how she jerked her chin up sharply, defending her position, how an unyielding fire of principle burned in her eyes.
“Mom, I don’t understand why I have to help Kristina,” Vika had said back then, her voice steady and uncompromising. “When I was studying, no one gave me money to live on. I lived in a dorm where five girls were crammed into one room. We shared one kitchen for the whole floor, and sometimes you had to wait hours for your turn. And when I was starting my career, I had to live on instant noodles and commute with three transfers, because I couldn’t afford a taxi.”
Tamara remembered how her daughter paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts.
“Why should I sponsor her choices now?” Vika continued, looking her mother straight in the eye. “She chose her husband. She chose to have children without any financial cushion. Now she needs to take responsibility for her decisions. And her husband? I offered him a good job—with a decent salary! What did he do? Turned his nose up at it. What kind of help do they even want? Am I supposed to support them for the rest of their lives?”
Tamara had only nodded silently then. She knew her older daughter’s character too well. Vika’s decisiveness and independence were her defining traits. Since childhood, she had gone her own way, never looking back, never asking for help, never complaining about difficulties.
Tamara understood: it was impossible to change Vika’s mind. Her principles were the foundation of her entire life. But what about Kristina? How could she help her younger daughter without destroying her relationship with Vika? The question tormented Tamara, giving her no peace day or night.
Kristina sat at the table, nervously crushing a napkin in her hands. Her eyes were full of resentment and indignation. Outside the window, dusk was thickening, but bright light burned in the kitchen, illuminating the tense faces of the two women.
“She could at least buy clothes for her nephews,” Kristina muttered, trembling with barely contained emotion. “They grow so fast, they always need something. Look—Misha’s already outgrown all his pants, and we have nothing to buy new ones with!”
Tamara, sitting opposite her, stirred her long-cold tea thoughtfully. She knew this conversation was inevitable, but each time it hurt.
“Vika gives gifts for the holidays,” she said gently, trying to find a compromise. “And she gives money too, even if not much.”
“What money?” Kristina threw up her hands. “With those handouts you can maybe buy socks! Mom, you see how she lives!” She jumped up and began pacing the kitchen. “She has two apartments, a collection of expensive things, trips! She could help if she wanted to!”
Tamara sighed heavily and set her cup aside. Her hands trembled slightly, but her voice stayed calm.
“You know, sweetheart, your sister is right about one thing—everyone chooses their own path. Vika chose hard work and independence. She achieved everything herself, without anyone’s help. You chose family and motherhood, and that’s a worthy choice too. Both paths have a right to exist.”
Kristina stopped by the window, her shoulders slumping.
“But why can’t there be some middle ground?” she sniffled. “Why can’t you help your loved ones when you have the means? Kolia works two jobs, we can barely make ends meet, and she…”
Tamara came to the window, watching the sunset staining the sky crimson. Her gaze was distant, as if she saw something far beyond their kitchen.
“Kolia… your husband was offered a good position. That’s worth a lot. What did he say?” The question, of course, went unanswered. “Vika believes everyone should build their own life. And you know what? In some ways, she’s right. If she started helping you, wouldn’t that become a reason for even greater dependence on others?”
A heavy silence settled over the kitchen. Kristina said nothing, thinking over her mother’s words. Her mind swung between resentment and understanding.
“But the children…” she finally said, turning to her mother. “They’re not guilty of anything. They didn’t choose this path.”
“That’s exactly why your father and I help,” Tamara said softly. “And your husband’s parents support you too. And Vika… she just lives by her principles. And that’s her right.”
Kristina lowered her head, her shoulders shaking. She knew her mother was right, but it was hard to accept. She was angry with her husband too—how could he blow such an offer? But she couldn’t exactly beat him with a stick and drag him into a new job.
“So what do we do?” she asked quietly. “How do we manage?”
Tamara stepped closer and hugged her.
“We’ll manage, sweetheart,” she whispered. “We have family—people who love us and support us. That’s what matters most.”
Just then the doorbell rang unexpectedly. Victoria appeared on the threshold—elegance and confidence personified. In her hand she held a small suitcase and several bags stuffed with something.
“Hi, Mom. Hi, Kristina,” she said with a warm smile as she stepped inside. “I brought you souvenirs from my trip.”
Victoria went into the living room, where a cozy half-darkness reigned. She set down the suitcase and held out the bags. One was filled with bright children’s toys—plush animals, educational games, colorful books. The other contained delicate trinkets: porcelain figurines, silk scarves, and jewelry her mother loved.
Tamara, unable to hide her joy, rushed to hug her daughter. Her eyes shone with pride and tenderness.
“Thank you, sunshine,” she whispered, pressing Victoria to her chest. “How was the trip?”
“Great,” Vika replied, stepping back and smiling. The smile was sincere, but there was a thoughtful shadow in her eyes. “Though this time I thought about a lot. About how we grew up. How we fought for what we have.”
Kristina, watching the scene, couldn’t hold back her curiosity.
“And what conclusions did you come to?” she asked, looking at her sister.
Victoria sat at the table and met Kristina’s gaze. There was something new in that look—understanding, acceptance, maybe even compassion.
“That everyone walks their own road,” she began, choosing her words slowly. “You chose family; I chose career. And you know what? I don’t regret my choice, but I don’t judge yours either. It’s just that each of us has our own path.”
Her voice was calm, but a faint sadness slipped through. She fell silent, as if collecting her thoughts.
“You know, Kristina… you always tried to run away from difficulties. Remember school—how you always copied my homework? How you’d say studying wasn’t for you, that you’d be better off building a family?”
Kristina lowered her eyes. It was true. From a young age she hadn’t shown much interest in studying. While Vika bent over textbooks, prepared to enter university, pored over extra materials, Kristina spent time with friends, danced at discos, and made plans for a big family.
A heavy pause hung in the room. Sensing the tension, Tamara tried to soften it.
“You were always smart,” she said quietly, breaking the silence. “It’s just that Kristina chose a different road.”
“A different road,” Kristina scoffed, lifting her eyes. “Yes, I chose it. Only for some reason that road turned out not to be so easy. Maybe it’s even harder for me than it was for you!”
“Kristina,” Vika began gently, though steel crept into her tone, “I’m not judging your life choice. But when you got married and decided to have children, didn’t you think about the future? About how you’d live, with what money?”
“What’s there to think about?” Kristina blurted out. “Everyone lives like that! The husband works, the wife raises the kids. And now you too—my own sister—are starting to reproach me…”
Vika kept her composure, though inside she was boiling. She slowly poured herself water from the filter, trying to gather her thoughts.
“I’m not reproaching you,” she answered evenly. “I just want you to understand one simple thing: I’m not obligated to help you just because I have money. I earned it with honest work, and I have every right to spend it the way I see fit.”
Tamara, silently watching, felt anxiety squeeze her heart. She knew the sisters had never truly been close. Vika always went her own way, achieving everything herself, while Kristina had grown used to relying on others—first on her parents, then on her husband.
“Listen, little sis,” Vika continued, and unexpected softness appeared in her voice, “I’m not refusing to help you at all. But I don’t want my help to turn into constant financial support. That would only make you even more dependent on other people. And the offer for your husband is still on the table.”
“Dependent?” Kristina exploded. “What do you know! I have three children—they need clothes, toys, education…”
“That’s exactly why I’m talking about personal responsibility,” her sister cut in, keeping her emotions in check. “You could find some side work. There are so many options for moms on maternity leave—remote work, freelancing, tutoring…”
“Easy for you to say!” Kristina flung her hands up so sharply she almost knocked over the cold tea. “And who’s going to sit with the kids while I work?”
“Maybe you should’ve thought about not having so many children if you can’t provide for them,” Vika couldn’t hold back. She was exhausted from listening to reproaches from someone who wouldn’t even lift a finger.
Kristina sprang up from the table, tipping the chair over with a loud clatter. Tears instantly filled her eyes, and a lump rose in her throat. Her hands shook as she grabbed the edge of the table to keep from falling.
“How can you say that?” she choked out, trembling with hurt and anger. “Children are the flowers of life! And besides—if it weren’t for you and your principles, things would be easier for us now!”
Tamara felt the blood drain from her face. She knew this conversation could end in disaster. Her hands clenched into fists under the table as she searched for the right words.
“Girls, enough!” Her voice was firm, but edged with despair. “Let’s not fight. Each of you has a right to your opinion.”
Vika stood as well, her face a mixture of regret and determination. She knew she’d gone too far, but the words were already out.
“Mom, I think I’ll go. I have an important meeting tomorrow,” she said distantly, as if her mind was already elsewhere.
She hugged her mother quickly, gave her sister the slightest nod, and left. The front door slammed, and the echo of the sound hung in the air.
Kristina didn’t say another word. She slowly went to her room.
Tamara was left alone in the kitchen. She went to the window and watched her daughter’s car drive out of the courtyard. A heavy sadness settled in her heart, mixed with bitterness. She understood Vika was right—but she couldn’t help feeling for her younger daughter, who tried so hard to be a good mother while constantly battling financial hardship.
Yet Tamara couldn’t blame anyone for what had happened. Each of her daughters was walking her own road, and each bore responsibility for her choices. She could only hope that one day they would find common ground and stop hurting each other with their words.
Days slowly replaced one another like pages in an old book of life. Each sister followed her own road, yet an invisible thread of kinship still bound them—sometimes stretched to its limit.
Victoria, with her impeccable business style and strict schedule, kept conquering career heights. Her office in a prestigious company was filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the rustle of important documents. She flew around the world closing deals and didn’t even think about starting a family. She barely spoke with her sister, but regularly asked their mother how Kristina was doing.
Though Vika still held firmly to her principles of independence and personal responsibility, her heart gradually softened. She did manage to push her brother-in-law into changing jobs, and in time he got used to it—he even thanked her for the great opportunity. His drinking buddies became a thing of the past.
Kristina, surrounded by her little ones’ laughter, began to realize life demanded more from her. While the children played carefree at kindergarten, she sat at the computer, learning a new skill. The online courses weren’t easy, but every topic she mastered gave her more confidence. Her sister sent her good commissions, and Kristina began to feel more capable. The money she earned with her own hands became real support for the family budget.
Gradually, the ice between the sisters began to melt. Vika started inviting her nephews and nieces over, throwing small celebrations with pizza, entertainers, and cartoons. Watching her sister’s success, Kristina became more and more convinced she was on the right track.
With each passing day, Tamara grew happier about the changes. She saw her daughters—so different, yet so dear—finding a common language. Her eyes shone with pride for both of them: for Vika, who taught Kristina self-reliance, and for Kristina, who showed Vika the value of family.
From then on, their relationship gained new meaning. They didn’t become inseparable friends, but they learned to appreciate each other’s differences and to support one another for real. And their children, absorbing the example, grew up understanding that success can take different forms—and each of them deserves respect…