“We’re going on vacation together! Just the two of us! Do you hear me?! Why did you buy a ticket for your sister?! I don’t care that she’s tired and sad! This is our anniversary. I wanted romance, not to listen to your sister whining on the lounge chair next to me! Return her ticket! Either she flies, or I stay here and file for division of property!” Ekaterina screamed at her husband, throwing the printed e-ticket straight into his face.
The sheet of paper drifted down to the floor, landing beside the open suitcase that, only five minutes earlier, had been neatly filled with swimsuits and summer dresses. Now the bedroom was in chaos — not from scattered things, but from raw emotion. Roman stood leaning against the doorframe, nervously twisting the edge of his T-shirt, trying not to meet his wife’s eyes. He had known this conversation would be difficult, but he had hoped Katya would discover the “surprise” only at the airport, when there would be no way back.
“Katya, come on, don’t start,” he said in his usual smoothing-it-over tone. “What division of property? Why do you always jump to extremes? Olya is really going through a hard time right now. She’s having some kind of… crisis. Her boyfriend left her, she got fired from work. She called me yesterday crying, saying she felt like ending it all. What was I supposed to do? Am I a monster? Should I refuse my own sister?”
“I don’t care about her crises!” Katya snapped, kicking the edge of the suitcase with the toe of her house slipper. “She has a crisis every month, right on schedule! One day she breaks a nail, the next her boss yells at her, then the weather isn’t right. We planned this vacation for six months! Six months, Roma! I worked like a horse. You complained nonstop that you were tired. We wanted to be alone. Alone! Without your mother, without your friends, and especially without your eternally suffering sister.”
“She won’t bother us!” Roman tried to defend himself, taking a step forward, then stopping immediately when he met his wife’s burning stare. “She’s a grown woman, Katya. She’ll lie on the beach, read a book. We’ll barely see her. She has her own room… well, almost.”
Ekaterina froze. Her hand, which had been reaching for a hat, stopped in midair. Slowly, she turned her head toward him.
“What do you mean, ‘almost’?” she asked in an icy voice.
Roman swallowed and looked toward the window, where the bright summer sun shone absurdly against the storm raging inside the apartment.
“Well… there were no standard rooms left at the hotel. It’s high season. So I had to book us a two-room suite. There’s a sofa in the living room, a pull-out one. Very comfortable, actually. We’ll be in the bedroom, she’ll be in the living room. Close the door, and that’s it. Nobody sees anybody.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Katya said quietly, which somehow made it even more threatening. “You put us in the same room? On our anniversary? So when I come out of the shower in a towel, I run into your Olga? So at night we can hear her snoring or sighing about her tragic life? Are you normal at all?”
“She doesn’t snore!” Roman protested, as if that were the main issue. “And besides, it saves money. The suite was cheaper than booking two standard rooms. I was thinking about the budget.”
“The budget?” Katya gave a nervous laugh, short and cruel. “What budget were you thinking about? We saved money for excursions, restaurants, the diving trip you wanted so badly. Where did you get the money for her flight and the extra payment for the suite?”
Roman hesitated. He shifted from one foot to the other like a schoolboy caught smoking behind the building.
“Well… I took a little from the savings account. We won’t spend that much on food anyway. We can eat more modestly and help a person at the same time. Katya, be human, will you? She’s my sister. My own blood.”
Ekaterina felt everything inside her boil. This wasn’t just betrayal. This was complete disregard for her, for her work, for their marriage. He had taken their shared money, their shared plans, and thrown them at his sister’s feet without even asking his wife.
“Eat more modestly?” she repeated, stepping closer to him. “So I’m supposed to save money on shrimp and wine during my vacation so your Olga can warm her backside by the sea? Do you even hear yourself? You stole money from me, Roma. You stole my vacation.”
“I didn’t steal it, I redistributed it!” he snapped, deciding that attack was the best defense. “Why do you keep saying ‘mine, mine’? Are we a family or not? A family has a shared budget. Shared problems too. If my sister is struggling, we have to help. And you’re acting like a selfish woman. You only think about your own comfort. ‘Romance, romance’… What kind of romance can there be with a shrew who’s ready to hang herself over one ticket?”
“Oh, so now I’m a shrew?” Katya grabbed a stack of her T-shirts and shoved them into the suitcase with force, no longer bothering to fold them. “Excellent. Since I’m a shrew, listen to me carefully. I am not flying anywhere with your sister in the same room. You are going to call her now and tell her the trip is canceled. Tell her you made a mistake, tell her there are no tickets, tell her I caught the plague — I don’t care what lie you choose. But she will not be there.”
“I’m not calling her,” Roman said stubbornly. “She’s already packed her suitcase. She’s already prepared herself emotionally. I’m not going to look like an idiot and a henpecked husband who’s scared of his wife.”
“You already look like an idiot, Roma. Not in front of her — in front of me. And believe me, that is much worse.”
Katya moved away from the suitcase and sat on the bed, crossing her arms over her chest. She was shaking with anger. She looked at her husband and no longer saw the man she had loved and lived with for five years. She saw a weak stranger, ready to bend her under the demands of his relatives at the first opportunity.
“Here’s how it’s going to be,” Roman said, deciding that since the scandal was already in full swing, he had nothing left to lose. “The ticket is non-refundable. The hotel is paid for. Olga is flying. This is not up for discussion. If you want to ruin everyone’s vacation with your sour face, go ahead. But I won’t let you hurt my sister. She’s coming, period. Accept it and behave decently.”
He turned and left the bedroom, stomping loudly across the laminate floor. Katya remained sitting alone. Her gaze fell on the cursed ticket lying on the floor. “Voronina Olga.” A name that had crossed out everything she had been waiting for. She knew one thing clearly: she would not let this go. If he wanted war, he would get it. And this vacation would be unforgettable for both of them.
Ekaterina stared silently at the empty doorway, feeling her anger no longer burning chaotically, but hardening into a cold, calculated desire to put her husband in his place. She knew exactly what Roman was doing now. He was probably sitting in the kitchen, drinking tea and thinking the storm had passed. That, as usual, she would complain, sulk for a few hours on the plane, and then soften once she saw the sea and palm trees.
“Well, Olya is family,” he was surely telling himself. “We’ll squeeze in. We’re not strangers.”
But this time, everything was different. This vacation was not just a trip. It was their chance to revive a relationship that had lately started to resemble a worn-out record. And Roman had personally smashed that chance to pieces for the sake of his sister’s whim.
Katya stood up, picked the ticket off the floor, and carefully placed it on the dresser. Then she left the bedroom.
In the kitchen, Roman was sitting with his phone in his hands, typing quickly and nervously biting his lip. When he saw his wife, he flinched and hurriedly turned the phone screen down.
“Call her,” Katya said sharply, sitting across from him.
“Who?” Roman switched on his “confused fool” mode, which activated automatically in every stressful situation.
“Your sister. Right now. Put her on speaker. Let her explain herself how exactly she plans not to interfere in our own bed. And why she thinks she has the right to fly at my expense.”
“Katya, stop it…” Roman whined. “She’ll get upset if she hears you’re against it. I told her you were happy. That we decided together to help her.”
“You did what?” Katya was so outraged she didn’t raise her voice. Instead, she dropped into a whisper. “You lied to her that I was happy? You made me look like an idiot who dreams of spending her only vacation of the year in one room with your sister?”
“What was I supposed to say? ‘Katya is against it, but I insisted’? Then she would have been offended by you! I was trying to keep peace in the family!”
“Peace, right? Call her. Or I’ll call her myself and tell her exactly what I think. About your ‘peace,’ your ‘savings,’ and where she can shove that ticket.”
Roman realized his wife was not joking. Her phone was already in her hand. He quickly grabbed his own.
“Fine, fine! Just please, no hysterics. Just listen to her. She’s a normal, reasonable woman. You’ll see.”
He dialed the number and turned on speakerphone. The ringing lasted a long time, as if Olga was in no hurry to answer. Finally, her cheerful voice came through, with no trace of the deep sorrow Roman had been singing about half an hour earlier.
“Romchik, hi! Well, are you packed already? I barely closed my suitcase. I had to sit on it! Listen, I wanted to ask… are your seats together on the plane? Because I don’t want to sit at the back. I get motion sickness, remember? Book me a window seat somewhere near the front.”
Ekaterina raised an eyebrow and looked at her husband. Roman turned red and shifted in his chair.
“Olya, hi. Yes, we’re, uh… packing. About the seats… It’s a low-cost airline. Seats cost extra. We didn’t choose any…”
“Oh, come on!” Olga interrupted him. “Just pay for it. No big deal. You’re a man. You should provide comfort. And Rom, check the restaurants near the hotel too. I don’t eat seafood, remember? I’m allergic. Don’t let it happen that we go somewhere and they only have sea creatures. I need normal meat, steaks, pasta. Google it in advance so we’re not wandering around hungry.”
Roman threw a panicked glance at his wife. Katya sat with a stone face, arms crossed.
“Olya, we kind of wanted… seafood,” he mumbled. “We’re going to the sea.”
“Well, eat your sea creatures, who’s stopping you?” Olga laughed. “Just find a place where I can eat too. I’m not going to sit alone while you chew. We’re going together, as a group! It’ll be more fun! By the way, I looked at excursions. I want to go to the waterfalls. You don’t mind, do you? I’m scared to go alone, what if something happens in those jungles? I’ll feel safer with you.”
“Olya, we wanted…” Roman began, but his sister wasn’t listening.
“And one more thing, Rom, about the room. I looked at the photos. That sofa in the living room looks narrow. Maybe we can switch? You two are young, you can sleep anywhere, even on the floor, ha-ha. My back hurts. I need an orthopedic mattress. Or at least a proper bed. We’ll figure it out there, okay?”
Ekaterina silently rose from the table. She walked to the sink, poured herself a glass of water, and drank it slowly while staring out the window. Everything inside her was boiling.
“A bed for her. Meat for her. A window seat for her. Excursions with her. And we’re supposed to pay for all of it.”
Seeing his wife’s reaction, Roman tried to end the conversation.
“Olya, let’s talk later. We’re busy now, packing.”
“Oh, busy, are you?” his sister snorted. “Say hi to Katka. Tell her to bring plenty of sunscreen. I forgot to buy mine, so I’ll use hers. All right, kisses, see you soon! You ordered one taxi, right? I’ll come to your place and we’ll go to the airport together. It’ll be cheaper!”
The call ended. Silence hung in the kitchen, broken only by the hum of the refrigerator. Roman sat with his head lowered, unable to look at his wife. He understood that Olga had just buried him even deeper without realizing it.
“Well?” Katya asked quietly, without turning around. “She’ll ‘lie quietly,’ right? We’ll ‘barely see her,’ right?”
“Katya, she’s just… that’s how she is, simple,” Roman muttered pitifully. “She doesn’t mean any harm. She’s just used to me being her older brother, taking care of her…”
“Taking care?” Katya spun around sharply. “You’re not taking care, Roma. You’re letting her climb onto our necks and dangle her legs. She has already decided everything. Where she’ll sleep, what she’ll eat, where she’ll sit on the plane. She’s even assigned herself my sunscreen! And you sat there bleating like a calf. ‘Well, Olya, we wanted…’ Pathetic.”
“Don’t you dare insult me!” Roman flared up, jumping from his chair. “I am the man of this house! I decided my sister is coming, so she’s coming! And if you’re so principled, you can stay home! But you won’t get a damn penny back for your ticket!”
“Oh, so that’s how we’re speaking now?” Katya narrowed her eyes. “The ‘man of the house’? A man who takes money from the shared savings without permission and spends it on his sister’s whims is not a man, Roma. He’s…” She stopped herself, searching for the most painful word, then waved it off. “Fine. Since you’ve decided everything, I’ll decide something too.”
She left the kitchen, leaving him alone. Roman sank heavily back into his chair. He felt he had gone too far, but pride wouldn’t let him go and apologize.
“Nothing,” he thought, calming himself. “She’ll yell and calm down. Where can she go? The money is already paid.”
He had no idea how badly he was mistaken.
The doorbell rang like a starting pistol, announcing the beginning of a race for survival. Roman, who had spent the last half hour nervously pacing from corner to corner, almost bumping into doorframes, instantly jumped up and rushed to the hallway with unnatural enthusiasm.
Ekaterina didn’t even move. She stood by the living room window, methodically checking the documents in her handbag, though she knew perfectly well everything was there. She simply needed to keep her hands busy so she wouldn’t grab her husband by the throat too soon.
“Olenka! You’re here! Finally, we’re all ready with our suitcases!” Roman’s syrupy voice floated from the hallway.
“Phew, Romchik, it’s so hot in your building! The elevator barely moved. I thought I’d suffocate before I got here,” came Olga’s loud, shrill voice, instantly filling the entire apartment. “Take my bag, it weighs a ton! I packed everything, you know I can’t travel light. A girl has to look beautiful!”
In the hallway, wheels rattled and Roman’s heavy breathing followed, judging by the sound, as he hauled a suitcase the size of a small wardrobe.
Ekaterina slowly walked into the hallway. Olga stood in the middle of the corridor without even thinking of taking off her outdoor shoes. She wore a bright sundress that was clearly too small for her, and an enormous straw hat that she immediately placed on the coat rack right on top of Katya’s jacket.
“Oh, Katya, hi!” Olga looked her sister-in-law up and down with open contempt. “Why the sour face? Romka said you were practically jumping with joy that I was flying with you. Or is that just your… vacation face?”
She burst out laughing at her own joke and, without ceremony, pushed past Ekaterina with her shoulder, walking into the living room and clicking her heels against the laminate floor.
“Hello, Olya,” Katya replied coldly, watching as her sister-in-law flopped onto their sofa and spread her arms. “In our home, people take their shoes off.”
“Oh, come on! I didn’t roll around in mud,” Olga waved her off. “Romchik, bring me some cold water, will you? I’m dying. And listen, I was thinking… you two only have one suitcase? Seriously?”
She nodded at the neat suitcase standing by the wall.
“Yes, we usually take only what we need,” Roman said, scurrying toward the kitchen for water. He tried not to look at his wife, feeling her scorching stare on his back.
“Pfft, what you need!” Olga snorted. “I brought three evening dresses, stilettos, a curling iron, my makeup bag… We’re going on vacation! We have to look amazing. Otherwise, Katya, you’ll be like a gray mouse next to me. Men on the beach will laugh. By the way, Rom!”
She shouted so loudly that Roman almost dropped the glass of water.
“What, Olya?”
“I looked at your hotel reservation. Listen, ‘suite’ sounds fancy, of course. But the bed looks wide enough. So I decided: I’m not sleeping on the sofa. My lower back hurts. I can’t sleep on anything hard. So I’ll take the bedroom, and you two can sleep on the little sofa. You’re young, you can fool around anywhere, ha-ha!”
Ekaterina felt the blood drain from her face. Slowly, she turned her head toward her husband, who had just returned with the water. Roman froze, not knowing where to look.
“Olya, well… we were kind of…” he stammered. “It’s our room. We paid…”
“Who is ‘we’?” Olga interrupted, snatching the glass from him. “You paid, brother. You’re the man. That means you decide. Besides, I’m a guest! Guests get the best. Are you really going to make your own sister with a bad back suffer on a fold-out sofa while your wife enjoys a soft bed? That’s not very human.”
She took a large gulp and grimaced theatrically.
“The water is warm. Do you have ice? Katya, run to the freezer, will you? And while you’re at it, I remember you had that white wide-brim hat. Mine is squeezing my head. Let me wear yours for a week. It doesn’t suit you anyway, your face is too round for it.”
Ekaterina said nothing. Inside her, a steel wire stretched tighter and tighter, ready to snap and cut through everything in its path. She looked at her husband, waiting for him to finally say something firm. To say this was their vacation. Their bed. Their home. That nobody could speak to his wife like that in her own apartment.
But Roman only smiled guiltily at his sister and shrugged.
“Olya, Katya doesn’t like it when people take her things…”
“Oh, stop it! We’re family!” Olga interrupted, getting up from the sofa and heading toward the bedroom. “Fine, I’ll look myself. Where’s your wardrobe? I’ll check what clothes you packed too. Maybe I’ll find something I like. I only brought one swimsuit, and it’s old and stretched out.”
She opened the door to their bedroom as if she owned the place.
That was the final drop. Ekaterina saw Roman exhale with relief, thinking the conflict had been smoothed over, and reach for Olga’s suitcase to roll it into the hallway. He truly believed everything would be fine. That Katya would swallow this too. That she would sleep on the sofa, hand over her belongings, and serve this rude woman just to avoid a scandal.
“Don’t touch her suitcase,” Ekaterina said quietly but clearly.
Roman froze, his hand hanging above the luggage handle.
“What? Katya, we have to leave in twenty minutes. The taxi is waiting…”
“I said don’t touch it,” she repeated louder, steel ringing in her voice.
Olga stuck her head out of the bedroom, holding the white hat in her hands.
“What are you two whispering about? Rom, our flight is soon, move it! And grab me something to chew on for the road. I haven’t eaten a thing since morning. Katya, make sandwiches quickly, but no mayonnaise. I’m on a diet.”
Ekaterina slowly walked up to her husband and looked straight into his eyes. In that moment, she saw not a man, not a protector, but a pitiful imitation of a human being, ready to sell her comfort and dignity for the approval of his arrogant relative.
“So, a diet?” Katya asked with frightening calm. “And the bed too? And my hat?”
“What’s the big deal? Are you that greedy?” Olga snorted, trying the hat on in front of the hallway mirror. “Rom, tell her not to be stingy. We’re family!”
“Family…” Ekaterina repeated, as if tasting the word. It tasted bitter. “You’re right, Roma. Family matters. That is exactly why I’m about to do what I should have done yesterday.”
She turned sharply and walked toward their shared suitcase.
“Katya, what are you doing?” Roman asked, suddenly frightened. “Katya, it’s time to go!”
Without a word, Ekaterina unzipped the suitcase, yanked it open, and dumped its entire contents onto the living room floor. Swimsuits, T-shirts, shorts — everything fell into a colorful heap.
“What are you doing?!” Olga shrieked, dropping the hat. “Are you insane?! We’re going to miss the flight!”
“Nobody is going to miss anything,” Katya replied coldly, straightening up and looking at her stunned husband and his sister. “Because the show is only beginning. And believe me, you won’t enjoy it.”
“Have you completely lost your mind?” Olga squealed, jumping away from the pile of clothes as if poisonous snakes were crawling in it. She grabbed her dress, which by an ironic twist had been pinned under Roman’s heavy sneaker, and pulled it so hard that the fabric tore. “You ruined my dress! Roma, do you see this? She tore my dress! Your wife is a psychopath!”
Roman stood over the destroyed suitcase with his mouth open. Red spots spread across his face, and his hands grabbed uselessly at the air, as if he were trying to pack reality back into neat luggage.
“Katya, this… this is too much,” he finally forced out. His voice was hoarse, but real hatred cut through it now. “You are going to pick this up. Do you hear me? You’ll pack the things, apologize to Olya, and we’ll go to the airport. Because if we miss the flight because of your tantrums, I won’t be responsible for myself.”
Ekaterina slowly stepped over the pile of clothes as if stepping over a dirty puddle. She was completely calm. Inside, everything had burned out — hurt, hope, love. Only ringing clarity and cold calculation remained. She walked to the dresser, took her phone, unlocked it, and turned to her husband.
“I’m not going anywhere, Roma. And I’m not packing anything. These are your things. And your sister’s things. So you can pack them yourselves. I’m staying home.”
“You’re bluffing,” Roman smirked angrily, kicking his swim shorts. “You whined about the sea for six months. You spent a fortune on swimsuits. You won’t stay. Stop performing, we don’t have time! The taxi will be here in five minutes!”
“I’m not performing. I’m changing the script,” Katya said, without taking her eyes off her phone screen. “By the way, about money. You paid for Olga’s flight from our savings account, right? The same one where we kept money for the kitchen renovation?”
“So what if I did?” Roman barked, finally losing control. “I’ll put it back later! I’ll earn it and return it! Why are you being so petty? My sister needed help!”
“Excellent. That means you have tickets. But there is a small problem with accommodation.”
She turned the phone screen toward him. The hotel booking app was open. Her finger hovered over a large red button: “Cancel reservation.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Roman whispered, turning pale. “There’s a one-hundred-percent penalty for the first night. You’ll lose money!”
“It’s my money, Roma. I paid for the hotel with my card while you played noble knight at someone else’s expense. And you know what? I don’t mind losing the cost of one night if it means I don’t have to see your faces for two whole weeks.”
She pressed the button. A confirmation appeared on the screen: “Reservation canceled.”
Silence fell over the room, heavier than any scream. Olga, who had been trying to smooth out her torn dress, froze with her mouth open. At last, the meaning of what had happened reached her.
“What do you mean… canceled?” she asked stupidly, looking from her brother to her sister-in-law. “Rom, what does that mean? Are we supposed to be homeless there? You said everything was included! You promised me a suite!”
“Katya, undo it,” Roman hissed, taking a step toward his wife. His fists were clenched. “Now. Call them, write to support, do whatever you have to do. You are not leaving us on the street in a foreign country.”
“Why not?” Ekaterina asked, slipping her phone into her jeans pocket. “You’re the man, Roma. You’re the ‘head of the family.’ You decided everything. So keep deciding. You have tickets. Fly. The sea is free. The beach belongs to everyone. As for housing… rent something cheaper. A room from some old lady in the private sector. Olya is simple, comfort doesn’t matter to her, right, Olya? The main thing is company.”
“You witch!” Olga shrieked, throwing the dress onto the floor and rushing toward Katya. “You did this on purpose! You’re just jealous that my brother loves me more! You selfish cow! Romka, do something! Hit her so her brains fall back into place!”
Ekaterina didn’t even flinch. She looked straight into her sister-in-law’s eyes, and there was so much contempt in her gaze that Olga stopped short and took a step back.
“Try it,” Katya said quietly, addressing her husband. “But keep in mind: this apartment is in my name. I’ll have the locks changed tonight. If you raise a hand against me or don’t get out of here with your circus within five minutes, both of you will end up not only without the sea, but without registration here too.”
Roman stood there breathing heavily. He looked at his wife and didn’t recognize her. Where was the soft, obedient Katya he could manipulate with guilt? In front of him stood someone different — hard, cold, capable of destroying him with a single signature.
His thoughts raced. He barely had any money on his card. Not enough for a new hotel, not even the cheapest one. His credit card was empty.
“You understand this is the end?” he asked hoarsely. “I won’t forgive you for this. We’re getting divorced.”
“I’m counting on it,” Katya nodded. “I’ll file the papers myself, so don’t bother. Now get out.”
She pointed to the door.
“Roma, are we really leaving?” Olga whined, grabbing his sleeve. “We have a plane! We can’t fly nowhere! I don’t have any money, you know that!”
Roman looked at the scattered clothes with hatred. Then he grabbed his suitcase and began frantically stuffing everything into it — shirts, someone’s socks, chargers — all mixed together.
“Pack, Olya,” he snapped at his sister. “We’re leaving.”
“But where?!” Olga wailed.
“To the airport! We’ll think of something! We’ll take a loan, borrow money! But I’m not staying under the same roof with this… this creature anymore!”
For several more minutes they rushed around the apartment, gathering things. Olga even managed to grab Katya’s sunglasses from the hallway shelf, but Ekaterina said nothing. She didn’t care. It was the price of freedom.
When the door slammed shut behind them, the apartment became deafeningly quiet. Ekaterina walked to the door and locked it, turning the key all the way. Then she returned to the living room. In the middle of the room, her clothes still lay scattered — bright fragments of a vacation that would never happen against the gray floor.
She walked to the window and saw Roman and Olga downstairs getting into the taxi. Olga was shouting something, waving her arms. Roman slouched as he pushed the suitcases into the trunk. He looked pathetic, crushed, yet still trying to save face in front of his sister.
The taxi pulled away and disappeared around the corner.
Katya took a deep breath. The air in the apartment felt stale, smelling of Olga’s cheap perfume and Roman’s sweat. She walked to the window and threw it wide open, letting in street noise and the hot summer sun.
There would be no vacation. No sea. No family either.
She sat down on the sofa beside the pile of clothes and, for the first time that day, smiled. It wasn’t a happy smile. It was the smile of someone who had just dropped a sack of stones she had been carrying for years. Ahead lay divorce, division of property, and scandals with his relatives. But that would come later.
Right now, she would order herself a pizza. The biggest one. With seafood.
And she would eat it alone, in silence, on her own bed.
Because now, finally, she could afford it.