He walked into the room and broke the quiet of the evening.
“Did you talk to Mom about moving in?” Lenya asked.
Lika looked up from her magazine, surprised.
“No. Why would I? We just got settled. Your mother gave us this apartment so we could live separately.”
Lenya sat down on the edge of the sofa, unusually serious.
“I’ve thought it through. Mom should live with us. It’s our duty.”
“What?” Lika set the magazine aside. “Are you serious? We’ve only been married for three months!”
“If Mom doesn’t move in with us, I’m filing for divorce.”
The words hit like thunder out of a clear sky.
Lika stared at him, trying to figure out whether he was joking. But his face stayed unreadable. Lenya’s eyes, usually soft and kind, now seemed чужими—cold, distant, almost unfamiliar.
“What are you even saying?” Lika rose to her feet, her hands beginning to tremble. “Is this some kind of stupid joke?”
“Not at all,” Lenya said, folding his arms across his chest. “Mom spent her whole life taking care of me. She cooked, cleaned, helped me through every problem. Now she’s alone, and it’s my responsibility to take care of her. That’s normal.”
“But your mother is only fifty-five,” Lika replied. “She works, she has her own apartment, her own friends, her own life. Are you even sure she wants to live with us?”
“Of course she does,” Lenya cut in. “She’s my mother. Where else should she live if not with her son?”
Lika felt the room start to spin. She sat back down on the couch.
Wedding preparations flashed through her mind—Irina Nikolaevna controlling every detail, from the menu to the color of the napkins.
“I have experience, and you two are young. What do you know?”
Lika had heard that phrase dozens of times during those months. And the idea of living under the same roof with such a forceful woman…
“I don’t understand where this is suddenly coming from,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm. “We never talked about this before the wedding or after.”
“What is there to talk about?” Lenya shrugged as if they were discussing what movie to watch. “You’re my wife. She’s my mother. We’re family. Family should stay together.”
Lika took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Something was wrong. Lenya had never given ultimatums before.
“Let’s just talk to your mother tomorrow, all right? We’ll find out what she wants.”
“I already talked to her,” Lenya said, suddenly looking like a hurt child. “She said she doesn’t want to get in our way. But I can see how hard it is for her to be alone. You need to convince her.”
“Me?” Lika couldn’t hide her surprise. “Why me?”
“Because Mom thinks you’ll be against it. She thinks you won’t like living with her.”
Lika opened her mouth, then closed it. What was there to say? Irina Nikolaevna was right. But at that moment, calming her husband felt more important than arguing.
“All right. I’ll talk to her,” Lika said quietly, already realizing she was stepping into something far more complicated than she wanted.
Natalya, Lika’s best friend, shook her head as she listened.
“So what are you going to do now?”
They were sitting in a tiny café not far from Lika’s office. Her lunch break was almost over, but she couldn’t leave without telling someone.
“I honestly don’t know,” Lika said, stirring her salad without appetite. “On one hand, I absolutely do not want to live with his mother. On the other, I still can’t believe Lenya was serious about divorce. We just got married!”
“What do you actually know about his relationship with his mother?” Natalya asked. “Maybe there’s more going on there than you think.”
Lika paused to think.
“They’ve always been close. Irina Nikolaevna raised him on her own after the divorce. Lenya said his father left when he was seven. They barely saw each other after that.”
“Oh, classic,” Natalya nodded knowingly. “A mother pours her whole life into her son, and then she can’t let him go. My mother-in-law tried something similar. But my Sergey set boundaries right away.”
“Except in my case, it’s not the mother-in-law trying to move in. It’s the son insisting on it,” Lika sighed. “And from the sound of it, Irina Nikolaevna isn’t even eager to come.”
“Then talk to her directly!” Natalya exclaimed. “Without Lenya. Find out what she really thinks.”
“You’re right,” Lika said, gathering her courage. “I need to meet with her myself. Today.”
Irina Nikolaevna’s apartment was in an old but well-kept building. Lika had never been there alone before, without Lenya, and she felt awkward pressing the doorbell.
The door opened almost immediately. Irina Nikolaevna looked surprised, but quickly recovered.
“Angelika? Did something happen?”
“No, it’s just… may I come in? I need to talk to you.”
Without a word, Irina Nikolaevna stepped aside and let her in.
“Tea?” she asked once Lika had taken off her shoes.
“No, thank you,” Lika said, swallowing hard. “I won’t stay long.”
They walked into the living room—a bright space lined with bookshelves. Lika had always imagined her mother-in-law’s apartment filled with figurines and lace doilies, but instead it was modern and minimalistic.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” Irina Nikolaevna asked as she sat in an armchair and gestured for Lika to take the sofa.
“About Lenya,” Lika said, deciding not to circle around the topic. “Yesterday he told me he wants you to live with us. He said it’s our duty to take care of you. And that if I don’t agree…” She faltered. “He said he’d file for divorce.”
Lika expected satisfaction on her mother-in-law’s face. Or at least the faintest hint of a smile.
Instead, Irina Nikolaevna looked stunned.
“What nonsense is this?” she frowned. “I gave you two that apartment so you could live separately and build your own family. Why would I move in with you?”
“But Lenya said he talked to you…”
“He did,” Irina Nikolaevna sighed. “He came by the day before yesterday and started talking about how I must be lonely, how I’m getting older…” She gave a dismissive snort. “I’m fifty-five, I have a job, friends, and I go dancing twice a week. What loneliness? I told him exactly that.”
“And what did he say?”
“He got upset. Said I was pushing him away, that he couldn’t cope without me.” She suddenly looked at Lika with concern. “Tell me something—does he manage things on his own? Cooking, cleaning?”
Lika felt herself blush.
“Not really. I do most of the cooking. We clean together, but…” She hesitated. “I’m always the one who gets things started.”
“I see,” Irina Nikolaevna nodded. “My dear girl, do you really think I want to leave my apartment and move in with you just so I can keep serving a grown man?” She exhaled heavily. “I gave you that place so you could live independently. So Lenya would finally grow up.”
Lika stared at her in disbelief. This was not the conversation she had expected.
“I don’t understand…”
“What’s there to understand?” Irina Nikolaevna gave a bitter smile. “I did everything wrong. After my divorce from Vitya—Lenya’s father—I threw all my energy into my son. I earned the money, solved the problems, handled everything. And Lenya grew up believing that was how life worked—that someone else would always take care of things for him. And now here we are: a thirty-year-old man who cannot imagine life without his mother’s care.”
She fell silent for a moment, looking somewhere beyond Lika.
“I thought marriage would change him,” she continued more quietly. “I thought he would become responsible, become a support for you. But apparently he just decided to replace one woman who did everything for him with two.”
Lika didn’t know what to say. The stern, controlling woman she had always been slightly afraid of suddenly looked completely different.
“I don’t want a divorce,” Lika said at last. “I love Lenya. But living the three of us together…”
“No one is going to live the three of us together,” Irina Nikolaevna said firmly. “You are his wife, not his nanny. And I am not going back to being his nanny either. It’s time Lenya grew up.”
“But how? He’s insisting on it…”
For the first time during the conversation, Irina Nikolaevna smiled.
“Here’s what we’ll do, Angelika. Come tomorrow with Lenya. I’ll pretend I only just heard about this idea from you. And believe me, I’ll find a way to explain to my son why it isn’t happening.”
“Are you sure?” Lika asked doubtfully. “He seems very determined.”
“I’m his mother,” Irina Nikolaevna replied simply. “I know how to talk to him. And you,” she added, fixing her with a steady look, “need to find the courage to stop indulging him in everything. Otherwise he’ll never grow up.”
When Lika got home, she found Lenya waiting. He was sitting in an armchair, tapping his fingers impatiently on the armrest.
“Where were you?” he asked with mild irritation.
“I went to see your mother,” Lika answered honestly.
Lenya’s face lit up.
“Really? Did you talk to her? Did she agree?”
Lika walked into the room and sat down across from him.
“No, Lenya. Your mother does not want to live with us.”
“What did you say to her?” His voice sharpened instantly. “You didn’t want her to move in, did you? You talked her out of it!”
“I didn’t say anything like that,” Lika answered calmly, though she was shaking inside. “We just talked. And she told me herself that she wants us to live separately.”
“I don’t believe you.” Lenya stood up and began pacing the room. “You don’t understand! Mom has always taken care of me, always been there. She can’t not want to be with me!”
Lika watched him with growing unease. He looked like a child whose favorite toy had been taken away.
“Lenya, tomorrow we’ll go to her together,” she said gently. “You’ll hear it from her yourself.”
“Fine.” He stopped. “We’ll go together tomorrow. And I’m sure I can change her mind. But if not…” He looked at Lika heavily again. “I wasn’t joking about divorce.”
Lika felt everything tighten inside her. But she said nothing.
The next morning, Lika woke with a heavy feeling in her chest. The conversation ahead frightened her. What if Irina Nikolaevna changed her mind? What if Lenya really did file for divorce?
She was lying there staring at the ceiling when the phone rang. It was Svetlana Viktorovna, her boss.
“Angelika, I’m sorry for calling so early, but we have an emergency. Can you come in today? Alla is sick, and we have interviews scheduled all day.”
Lika felt relief and anxiety at the same time. On one hand, it gave her a temporary escape from the confrontation. On the other, Lenya would be furious.
“Yes, of course,” she said. “I’ll be there in an hour.”
When she ended the call and turned toward her husband, he was already awake. Judging by his expression, he had heard everything.
“Don’t tell me you’re working today,” he said through clenched teeth.
“I’m really sorry, but yes,” Lika replied gently. “We’re short-staffed, and Svetlana Viktorovna personally asked me—”
“Your job is more important than your family?” he cut in. “We agreed we were going to talk to Mom today!”
“We can still do it this evening,” Lika suggested as she got out of bed. “I’ll be free by six. Or…” she hesitated, “you could talk to her yourself first, and I’ll join you later.”
Lenya looked at her as though she had said something outrageous.
“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” He sprang to his feet. “You arranged this with work so you wouldn’t have to go!”
“Lenya, that’s ridiculous.” Lika was beginning to lose patience. “I can’t control who gets sick and when. If you want, call my boss and ask her yourself!”
To her surprise, he deflated slightly.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I just had everything planned. I wanted to settle this today.”
“We will settle it,” Lika said, walking over and lightly touching his shoulder. “Just a little later. All right?”
He nodded reluctantly.
The day at the office dragged endlessly. Between interviews, Lika found time to tell Svetlana Viktorovna what was happening. To her surprise, her boss reacted with understanding.
“You know, my son was very attached to me too,” she said. “When he got married, I intentionally stepped back so the young couple could build their own relationship. Sometimes love means setting firm boundaries.”
“But what if your husband isn’t ready to accept those boundaries?” Lika asked.
“Then you have to choose,” Svetlana Viktorovna said simply. “Either you become his second mother and wait until it completely exhausts you, or you insist on a healthy relationship and risk losing him.”
Those words echoed in Lika’s mind all day.
That evening, on her way home, she received a message from Irina Nikolaevna:
Lenya is here. Come quickly.
Lika’s heart skipped. What had happened?
When she arrived, she found an unexpected scene: Lenya was sitting on the sofa with red, tear-filled eyes. Across from him sat his mother and… a man in his sixties whom Lika recognized only vaguely from a few old photographs—Lenya’s father.
“Oh, Angelika!” Irina Nikolaevna rose to meet her. “Come in. We’re just having a family council.”
“Hello,” Lika said, bewildered, looking from one face to another. “What is…”
“What’s going on?” Irina Nikolaevna finished for her. “I’ll explain. I invited Viktor”—she nodded toward the man—“Lenya’s father, to help us sort this out.”
Viktor Sergeyevich, a tall man with gray at his temples who resembled Lenya in subtle ways, nodded to her.
“I’m glad to finally meet my son’s wife,” he said, and there was real sincerity in his voice.
“Sit down,” Irina Nikolaevna said, pointing to the place beside Lenya. “We were just talking about why a young family needs its own space.”
Lenya sat with his head lowered.
“Dad says I’m acting like a child,” he muttered without looking up.
“Not exactly,” Viktor Sergeyevich corrected him gently. “I said I understand your desire to stay close to your mother. But I also understand why your mother and your wife believe you need to live separately.”
“Vitya told Lenya something I never told him before,” Irina Nikolaevna added, looking at Lika. “The real reason for our divorce.”
“That…” Lika hesitated, unsure how to respond to such intimacy.
“It has everything to do with what’s happening now,” Irina Nikolaevna said firmly. “Lenya, tell Lika what your father just told you.”
Lenya raised his reddened eyes.
“Dad didn’t leave for no reason,” he said, his voice shaking. “He left because Mom wouldn’t let him take part in raising me. She thought she could do everything better herself. She never let him be a father.”
Lika turned to Irina Nikolaevna, expecting outrage or denial. Instead, the older woman only nodded sadly.
“It’s true,” she said. “I always believed I knew best how to raise my son. That only I could give him everything he needed. In the end, Vitya left, and I… I raised a boy who never learned how to live on his own. Now I’m trying to correct that mistake.”
“And I’m guilty too,” Viktor Sergeyevich added. “I should not have simply walked away. I should have fought for my right to be part of my son’s life.”
Silence settled over the room. Lika didn’t know what to say. She felt like an accidental witness to something deeply personal.
“I didn’t want you to leave,” Lenya suddenly said, looking at his father. “I always missed you.”
“I know, son,” Viktor Sergeyevich replied, looking as though he might cry himself. “And I missed you too. That’s why when your mother called and told me what was happening, I came right away. I don’t want your family repeating our mistakes.”
“And now listen to me, son,” Irina Nikolaevna said, leaning forward. “I will not live with you. Not because I don’t love you, but because I do. You are a grown man. You have a wife, a job, your own apartment. It is time to learn to handle life on your own. And one more thing…” She threw a quick glance at her former husband. “Your father and I have decided to try speaking again. As friends, for now.”
Lenya stared at them with wide eyes.
“You… you’re getting back together?”
“We don’t know yet,” Viktor Sergeyevich answered for both of them. “But we want to try rebuilding some kind of relationship. And to do that, we also need space and time.”
Lenya sat quietly, absorbing it all. Then he slowly turned to Lika.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I behaved stupidly. I threatened you with divorce… I don’t want a divorce. I love you.”
Tears rose in Lika’s eyes. She took his hand in hers.
“I love you too,” she said. “And I believe we can get through this. Together.”
Irina Nikolaevna watched them with a soft smile.
“You see, son? Isn’t it better this way—that you have your own separate life, apart from us? And we’ll have ours.” She exchanged a glance with Viktor Sergeyevich. “And when you miss us, just come over for dinner. We can cook together.”
A month passed.
Lika and Natalya were once again sitting in their favorite café.
“I still can’t believe your mother-in-law turned out to be your ally,” Natalya said, shaking her head as she listened to the update. “Usually it’s the exact opposite.”
“I was shocked too,” Lika admitted. “But what’s even more amazing is that Lenya really is changing. Yesterday he cooked dinner by himself. No instructions from his mother. And last week he handled the bills on his own. Irina Nikolaevna used to do all of that for him.”
“And how are things going with his father? Are they really rebuilding that relationship?”
“Yes, can you imagine?” Lika smiled. “They see each other every week now. They go to exhibitions, to the theater. Viktor Sergeyevich turned out to be a very interesting man. And he and Lenya are getting closer too—they go to football matches, fix things together.”
“And what about that divorce threat? Does Lenya ever bring it up now?”
Lika shook her head.
“No. He felt terrible about it. He said he panicked when he felt his mother was ‘pulling away’ from him. But now I think he’s actually glad she’s building a life of her own.”
Natalya looked at her thoughtfully.
“And if Irina Nikolaevna hadn’t taken your side? If she had actually wanted to move in with you?”
Lika fell silent, considering the question.
“I don’t know,” she admitted at last. “I probably would have tried. For Lenya’s sake. But I’m very glad it didn’t turn out that way.”
“And rightly so!” Natalya lifted her cup in a joking toast. “Here’s to mothers-in-law who understand that the best gift they can give a young couple is not being part of their everyday life!”
Lika laughed and lifted her own cup.
That evening, when she got home, she found Lenya in the kitchen, deeply focused on what he was doing.
“What are you making?” she asked, peeking over his shoulder.
“I’m trying to make that salad you love,” he answered without looking up from chopping vegetables. “But I think I may have cut up way too much.”
Lika smiled and kissed him on the cheek.
“That’s all right. It just means we’ll have enough for two days.”
Lenya set the knife aside and turned toward her.
“Do you ever regret marrying me?” he asked suddenly, serious now. “A guy who was so… helpless?”
“Not for a second,” she answered honestly. “We all have things to learn. What matters is that we’re learning them together.”
He wrapped his arms around her, and Lika felt that his embrace was stronger now, more certain than before. As if he truly was beginning to change—from a mother’s boy into a real man.
Her man.
“By the way,” Lenya said as he pulled back, “Mom invited us to dinner on Saturday. Dad too. Do you mind?”
“Not at all,” Lika said with a smile. “I’d love to go.”
She thought about how strangely everything had unfolded. A threat of divorce that could have destroyed their marriage had instead made the family stronger—not only their little family, but the larger one too, now including the father who had been absent for so many years.
Sometimes life brings unexpected surprises.
And sometimes, those surprises turn out to be for the best.