Anna sat at the kitchen table, staring at her laptop screen without really seeing the figures in the spreadsheet. Outside, a thin February rain kept falling; the drops on the glass looked like tears she refused to allow herself. From the next room came Maxim’s muted voice—he’d been on the phone with his mother for half an hour, and Anna knew exactly what the conversation was about.
Alice’s wedding. Again.
When Maxim finally came into the kitchen, his face was tense and his eyes almost pleading. Anna closed the laptop, folded her hands on the table, and prepared for the next round.
“Anya, we need to talk,” he said, sitting across from her.
“I know,” she answered evenly. “You’ve been talking to your mom for thirty minutes.”
“You have to understand, it’s genuinely complicated. Alice has dreamed of a beautiful wedding—she’s waited years for this…”
“Maxim,” Anna interrupted, “we’ve already been through this. You know my position.”
“But you won’t even hear me out!” Irritation broke through his voice. “This is my sister. This is our family!”
Anna drew a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm. They’d been married five years, and she’d grown to care about Maxim’s family—his kindhearted father, his fussy mother, and his younger sister Alice, who had always seemed a bit spoiled but overall sweet.
Until the last month.
“I have heard you,” Anna said. “I’ve heard you, your mom, and even your dad when he called last week. I understand Alice wants her dream wedding. But, Maxim… we’re talking about three million rubles.”
“It’s not three million from us,” he rushed to say. “My parents will put in a million, Igor’s parents will put in another million. That leaves just one million—and if you and I…”
“Just one million,” Anna repeated with a bitter half-smile. “Do you even hear yourself? That’s an enormous amount, Maxim. That’s money I earn by working late in the evenings—weekends included.”
“I know you work hard,” Maxim’s tone softened. “But… family. We’re family. When we got married, my parents helped us too.”
Anna felt herself nearing the edge. They’d reached the same argument she’d heard a dozen times in recent weeks.
“Three hundred thousand,” she said quietly. “Your parents gave us three hundred thousand for a modest wedding in a café for fifty people. It was generous, and I’m grateful. But it’s not comparable to what they’re asking for now.”
“That’s because you make five times more than I do now!” Maxim blurted. “Before, I was the main provider. I brought in more money, and you didn’t complain…”
Anna stood. Her hands shook, but she forced herself to keep control.
“You earned twenty thousand more than I did, Maxim. And I never complained because we were partners. We combined our income, planned together, decided together. But now, for some reason, you’ve decided that my money is automatically our money—and that means it’s also your family’s money.”
“It is ours!” Maxim shot back, getting to his feet too. “We’re married!”
“Then why aren’t we making this decision together?” Anna demanded. “Why does your mom call and say not ‘we’d like to ask,’ but ‘you must’? Why does your father remind me I should be grateful? Why have all of you decided I’m obligated to hand over a year of my life—my labor, my health—for a celebration that ends in a single day?”
Maxim went pale.
“So that’s what you think about my sister’s wedding?” he asked, stunned. “That it’s just a one-day party?”
“No.” Anna walked to the window and rested her forehead against the cold glass. “I think weddings are wonderful. I remember ours—it was beautiful, even though it was simple. We were happy. We didn’t need a hall for three hundred guests, a symphony orchestra, and live swans on a lake. We only needed each other and the people we love.”
“Alice is different,” Maxim said more quietly. “She’s always wanted something grand. You know what she’s like…”
“I do,” Anna nodded without turning. “She’s used to getting whatever she wants. Your parents never told her ‘no.’ A new phone every year, a car for finishing university. And now—a three-million-ruble wedding, even though neither she nor Igor has earned anything close to that themselves.”
“So what—parents can’t give their daughter a gift?”
Anna turned to face him.
“No, Maxim. What’s wrong is that they want to give her that gift with my money. With money I’d been saving for something else.”
She saw something flicker in his eyes—curiosity mixed with irritation.
“For what?” he asked. “What are you saving for that I don’t know about?”
Anna hesitated. She didn’t want to say it now, in the middle of a fight, but she didn’t have a choice.
“For a house,” she said plainly. “I’m saving for a house—for us. The big house outside the city we used to dream about back when we first started dating. Remember? You showed me photos of wooden houses with panoramic windows and said you wanted to wake up and look out at the forest. I’ve been saving for three years, Maxim. I already have two million three hundred thousand. Another year to a year and a half—and we can buy land and start building.”
Maxim stood motionless, and she couldn’t read his expression.
“You… you saved it without telling me?” he finally said.
“Not behind your back,” Anna replied. “I just didn’t say exactly how much because I didn’t want to jinx it. I wanted it to be a surprise when I reached the right amount. But now…” She rubbed her face, exhausted. “Now everyone thinks that because I have a good salary, I must have a spare million to spend on your sister’s wedding.”
“Anya—” Maxim stepped toward her, but she backed away.
“No. Let me finish. That money isn’t just numbers in an account. It’s thousands of hours of work. It’s projects I carried alone while everyone else slept. It’s business trips where I spent nights in hotels instead of being home with you. It’s weekends at the computer, holidays I missed. It’s my health, Maxim. I already have gastritis from stress and constant pressure. I sleep five hours a night. And all of it—all of it—was for our future. For our home.”
“But Alice is our future too,” Maxim said quietly. “She’s my sister. She’ll be part of our family forever.”
“And that’s exactly why I don’t want her marriage to start with this kind of foolishness,” Anna said, heat rising in her voice. “Maxim, think: three million for one day. That could be a down payment on an apartment for them. It could be seed money for a business. It could be a safety cushion for the first years of marriage. Instead it will vanish into flowers that wilt in three days, food that’s eaten in a single evening, and a dress Alice wears once in her life.”
“You sound like an accountant,” Maxim muttered. “Not everything is measured in money. There are emotions. Memories.”
“Exactly!” Anna grabbed his hand. “Emotions and memories! But the best memories don’t depend on the size of the banquet. I remember our wedding. It was beautiful not because it cost a fortune, but because we were happy. We laughed, we danced—I saw you cry when we had our church ceremony. That’s what matters. Not the guest list and not the price of the cake.”
Maxim pulled his hand free and went back to the table. He sank onto a chair and covered his face with his palms.
“My mom cried on the phone today,” he said hollowly. “She said she’d dreamed her whole life about marrying her daughter off. She can’t sleep thinking Alice will be disappointed. Dad said they’re ready to take out a loan if we won’t help.”
“A loan?” Anna gasped. “Maxim, they’re almost sixty! They’ll be paying it off for the rest of their lives!”
“I know.” He looked up at her with red-rimmed eyes. “That’s why I can’t just refuse. They’re my family, Anya. I can’t say ‘no’ and watch them go into debt.”
Anna sat down beside him.
“Why can’t you say ‘no’ to Alice?” she asked softly. “Why can nobody in your family say ‘no’ to her? She’s an adult, Maxim. She’s twenty-six. Maybe it’s time she learns that dreams don’t always come true exactly the way we imagine. That sometimes you have to adjust to reality.”
“You want her to give up her dream?”
“I want her to reshape her dream,” Anna corrected. “A one-million wedding can be just as beautiful and memorable as a three-million one—just with fewer guests, simpler decor, a different restaurant. But Alice’s parents—and you too, it seems—are scared to tell her that. You’re afraid of disappointing her.”
“You don’t understand,” Maxim shook his head. “After her fiancé proposed, she already told all her friends about her plans. She showed them photos of venues, talked about a dress by a famous designer. If everything changes now…”
“Then what?” Anna felt irritation rising in her throat. “She’ll look stupid in front of her friends? Maxim, listen to what you’re saying. We’re supposed to spend a fortune—or let your parents take out a loan—so Alice doesn’t lose face in front of her girlfriends?”
“Don’t oversimplify it,” he snapped. “It’s not only that.”
“Then what is it?”
He stood and started pacing the kitchen, clearly trying to pull his thoughts together.
“It’s about the fact that when you refuse to help my family, you’re showing we aren’t one unit,” he finally blurted. “Mom said a wife should be part of her husband’s family, should support—”
“Stop.” Anna stood as well. “What did your mom say? That a wife must submit to her husband’s family? Maxim, we live in the twenty-first century, not the nineteenth.”
“That’s not what I meant!”
“But that’s exactly what you said!” Anna felt the anger she’d been swallowing for weeks finally boiling over. “Why should I have to pay toward your sister’s ridiculously expensive wedding?” she burst out—the sentence that had been burning on her tongue all this time. “Explain it to me, Maxim. Not ‘because we’re family,’ not ‘because it’s tradition,’ not ‘because they once helped us.’ Explain it plainly: why should I give up a year of my work, my dream, our plans for the future, just so your twenty-six-year-old sister can show off in front of guests?”
Maxim stood silent, and Anna watched his face cycle through emotion after emotion—hurt, anger, confusion, and something that looked like realization.
“I…” he started—and stopped.
“Exactly,” Anna nodded. “You have no answer, because there isn’t one. The only reason they expect that money from me is because I have it. And that isn’t a reason, Maxim. It’s not.”
She went to the bedroom and shut the door behind her. She needed to be alone—to think, to sort out what she was feeling.
For the next few days, a heavy silence filled the apartment. Maxim left for work early and came home late. Anna suspected he was spending time at his parents’ place, talking things over. No one invited her to these family meetings, and that was telling.
On Friday evening, her mother-in-law appeared at the door. Svetlana Pavlovna looked tired and shaken, and Anna felt a sting of guilt.
“May I come in?” she asked quietly.
Anna stepped aside without a word and let her in.
They sat at the kitchen table. Svetlana Pavlovna studied her hands for a long time before she finally spoke.
“I came to apologize,” she said at last. “Maxim told me about your conversation. About how you’ve been saving for a house for the two of you.”
Anna didn’t answer, waiting.
“I was wrong,” Svetlana Pavlovna continued, her voice thick with tears. “My husband and I were wrong. We’re so used to giving Alice whatever she wants that we stopped asking ourselves whether it was right. And when we realized we couldn’t afford this wedding, our first thought was: ask you. Because you earn well, because you…” She lifted her eyes to Anna. “Because you’ve always been sensible and responsible, and we assumed you’d understand.”
“Svetlana Pavlovna…”
“No—let me finish,” the woman raised her hand. “We put the responsibility for Alice’s happiness on your shoulders. We told ourselves that if you didn’t help, you must be a bad wife, a bad daughter-in-law. But the truth is—we’ve been bad parents. We raised a daughter who doesn’t understand the value of money. Who thinks the world should grant her every wish. And now we’re trying to fix our mistakes at someone else’s expense.”
Anna felt her eyes burn. She hadn’t expected words like these.
“I spoke with Alice today,” Svetlana went on. “A serious conversation—maybe the first truly serious one in her life. I told her the truth: we don’t have three million, we can’t take out a loan like that, and asking you to hand over your savings is wrong. She cried. She yelled that I’m ruining everything, that this is her special day.”
“And what did you decide?” Anna asked softly.
“We’ll have the wedding with the money we actually have. One million from us, one million from Igor’s parents. It will be a good wedding, Anya. Maybe not as grand as Alice imagined—but decent, beautiful. And most importantly—not on credit, and not paid for with someone else’s future.”
Tears finally slid down Anna’s cheeks.
“Thank you,” she breathed. “Thank you for understanding.”
Svetlana stood and hugged her.
“No. I should be thanking you—for being stronger and wiser than all of us. For not being afraid to say ‘no’ when it had to be said. Maybe that’s what Alice needed most—to finally hear ‘no.’ To learn how to live in the real world.”
After her mother-in-law left, Anna sat for a long time in the kitchen, wrapping her hands around a cup of tea that had gone cold. She felt both relief and emptiness. The conflict was resolved, but something inside their family had still shifted.
Maxim came home late that night. Seeing the light on in the kitchen, he stepped in and stopped in the doorway.
“Mom was here,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.”
“She told you?”
“Yes.”
He came closer and sat beside her.
“I’m sorry, Anya,” he said quietly. “I behaved like a selfish jerk. I didn’t even ask what you were saving for. I didn’t care about your plans, your dreams. I just decided that because we’re married, your money automatically becomes available to my family.”
“It’s our family, Maxim,” Anna corrected softly. “But ‘our family’ is you and me first. Everyone else comes after.”
“I understand that now. Mom helped me understand.” He let out a shaky laugh through tears. “She said… she said if she were in my place, she would choose you, not Alice. Because you’re my future, and Alice is already building hers.”
Anna took his hand.
“I’m not against helping your family,” she said. “But help and sacrifice aren’t the same thing. I’m willing to help within reason—but not at the cost of our plans and our future.”
“I know. And you know what I thought about today?” Maxim turned to her. “That I need to start earning more too. I got comfortable and pushed everything onto your shoulders. I spoke with an old colleague—his company wants me to join them. The salary is about forty percent higher.”
“Really?” Anna felt a spark of hope.
“Really. I almost said no, because the hours are rough, the workload is heavy. But if we both push, we’ll build our house faster, right?” He smiled—warm, familiar—and Anna felt the last ice of resentment melt in her chest.
“Right,” she nodded. “We’ll build our house.”
Alice’s wedding took place in June. It was truly a lovely celebration—at a countryside restaurant by a lake, with live music and elegant decor. There were fewer guests than Alice had originally planned, but they were the closest people, and the atmosphere felt warm and genuine.
Anna noticed that Alice looked happy. Maybe not the flawless, picture-perfect happiness she’d imagined while standing in front of a mirror in a designer dress. But it was real, adult happiness—the kind that comes with understanding you don’t always get what you want, yet what you do get can still be wonderful.
During the reception, Alice walked over to their table. She was a little tipsy from champagne and joy.
“Anya,” she said, hugging her sister-in-law. “Thank you.”
“For what?” Anna blinked, surprised.
“For not letting us do something stupid. Mom told me… well, part of it. She said you were right. And you know what? I like this wedding. I like that everyone here is someone I love, not a crowd of strangers invited for status. I like that Igor isn’t panicking about debt. I like that we’re starting our life without a massive hole in the budget.”
She kissed Anna on the cheek and ran back to her friends, leaving Anna with wet eyes.
“See?” Maxim whispered, wrapping an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “It worked out.”
“Yes,” Anna nodded, leaning into him. “It did.”
And three months later, they bought a plot of land—land with a view of the forest, where thick fog hung in the mornings in autumn and apple trees bloomed in spring. A place where they would start building their home—a home that didn’t require anyone’s dreams to be sacrificed, because it was the dream they were walking toward together.
Standing on that land and imagining their future house with panoramic windows, Anna thought about how sometimes the most important thing you can do for a family is learn to say “no.” Because a real family isn’t built on endless уступки and sacrifices—it’s built on respect, understanding, and the willingness to grow together, even when it’s hard.
Even when it means refusing something that seems important, for the sake of what truly is.