Victoria stared at another unpaid bill spread out on the kitchen table. Mechanically, she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and sighed heavily. In the next room, Artem enthusiastically told someone over the phone about his new project—online self-development courses.
“Imagine, it’s simply revolutionary!” his excited claim reached her.
Victoria grimaced bitterly. Over their five years together, she had learned to recognize these periodic “epiphanies” of her husband. First, it was an eco-products store, then a bicycle repair shop, followed by meditation courses. Each time, the pattern was the same: Artem would get excited about an idea, borrow money, and when the venture failed, she had to resolve the financial issues.
Her phone vibrated—a call from her mother-in-law. Victoria briefly closed her eyes, bracing for the conversation.
“Good morning, Tamara Semyonovna.”
“Vika, did you transfer money to Artem’s phone?” her mother-in-law cut straight to the point.
“I paid it yesterday…”
“But that’s not enough!” she interrupted. “He needs to actively communicate with potential clients, develop his business online.”
Victoria pursed her lips. There were mass layoffs at the travel agency where she worked, and every penny was precious. But how to explain this to her mother-in-law?
“I’ll try to organize something,” she responded coolly.
“That’s great,” Tamara Semyonovna’s voice softened. “You always understand how important it is to support our Artemushka. He’s so special; he just needs time to unfold his potential.”
After the conversation, Victoria sat staring at one spot for a long time. Outside, rain drizzled, blurring the outlines of gray buildings. On the table lay utility bills, a bank reminder of an overdue payment, and a list of debts that needed urgent repayment.
“Vika!” Artem burst into the kitchen, radiating joy. “You won’t believe it! A potential partner just called. He says my idea is the bomb!”
“Wonderful,” she managed, trying to smile. “And how much will it cost this time?”
Artem was momentarily embarrassed but quickly composed himself:
“About three hundred thousand… But it’s peanuts compared to what we’ll get!”
“We don’t have that kind of money,” she replied calmly.
“I know!” he slumped onto a chair opposite. “But we can borrow it. Maxim says…”
“Maxim?” she tensed.
“Yes, my friend from college. He’s willing to lend,” Artem carefully avoided her gaze.
“Willing to lend again? Did you repay him the last debt?”
“Vika, stop it!” he grimaced. “I told you I’d handle it. As soon as we launch the project…”
At that moment, the phone rang again. An unfamiliar number appeared on the screen. Victoria frowned but answered anyway:
“Hello?”
“Victoria Andreyevna? Good afternoon. I’m calling regarding your aunt, Yelena Pavlovna Sokolova…”
Victoria froze. Aunt Lena, whom she barely knew, lived in another city and rarely visited the family. The last time they met was three years ago at a family celebration.
“Is something wrong with her?”
“Unfortunately, Yelena Pavlovna is no longer with us,” the notary’s voice was sympathetic. “However, she left a will… And you are the sole heir.”
The room began to blur before her eyes. Artem, noticing her state, jumped up worriedly:
“What happened?”
“Aunt Lena…” she struggled to find words. “She left me an inheritance.”
“What inheritance?” he moved closer.
“A three-room apartment in the city center, a country house, and savings,” continued the notary.
Victoria sat stunned. Why had her aunt chosen her? They barely communicated… Memories of their last conversation at the family celebration surfaced. Aunt Lena had inquired about her work, her future plans, and seemed to listen very attentively.
“What wonderful news!” Artem began unfolding his plans. “So, now we have opportunities…”
He didn’t finish his sentence—the doorbell rang. On the doorstep stood Tamara Semyonovna with bags of groceries.
“I brought you some food…” she started but paused, noticing the expressions on Victoria’s and her son’s faces. “What happened?”
“Mom, imagine! Vika has an inheritance: an apartment, a country house, and money!”
Tamara Semyonovna froze. Her gaze slowly shifted to her daughter-in-law. Something new, unfamiliar flickered in her eyes.
“An apartment, you say? And a cottage? What a turn…”
Victoria felt uncomfortable under her mother-in-law’s scrutinizing gaze. The small kitchen felt cramped and stuffy.
“Perhaps, I should go,” she muttered, grabbing her purse. “I need to get to work.”
All day, Victoria couldn’t focus. Clients asked about tours, but Tamara Semyonovna’s strange, evaluating look haunted her. By evening, her phone was burning up with calls—her husband’s relatives had somehow learned about the inheritance.
Returning home, Victoria found Artem and his mother in a heated discussion. The mother-in-law quickly hid some documents in her bag, but Victoria caught a glimpse of a familiar bank on the papers.
“Vika, it’s good that you came!” Tamara Semyonovna beamed with artificial joy. “We were just discussing…”
“What exactly?” Victoria tensed.
“Just family matters,” the mother-in-law and son exchanged significant looks. “You know, I think we should meet tomorrow, discuss everything… Make a rough estimate.”
“Estimate of what?”
“Come on, dear!” Tamara Semyonovna leaned forward. “We need to understand how much we can make from selling the property. The apartment in the center—that’s a fortune! And the cottage? Do you even know where it’s located?”
Not even a day had passed, and her inheritance was already mentally divided and spent.
The phone woke Victoria at seven in the morning.
“Good morning, dear!” Tamara Semyonovna’s voice sounded overly cheerful. “Did you find out the exact value of everything?”
“Tamara Semyonovna, I haven’t even seen the documents…”
“How so?” Irritation sounded in her mother-in-law’s voice. “We need to act fast! For example, Artemushka’s debt…”
“What debt?” Victoria turned to stone.
“Oh, you don’t know!” her mother-in-law hurriedly corrected herself. “Artem took a small loan for his business. With our apartment as collateral. But that’s trivial! Now we’ll solve everything… And help Dimochka.”
“Which Dimochka?”
“Artem’s brother, of course! He’s having troubles, needs a good lawyer… And funds to cover his debts.”
Victoria hung up without a word. Her mind was buzzing. The news of the loan stunned her—when did that happen? And why had Artem hidden it? Now his brother’s problems too…
In the evening, Artem unexpectedly suggested a family dinner.
“Let’s invite mom, sit, chat,” he said casually, cutting bread.
“Why?” Victoria was wary.
“Why not? We’re family. We need to discuss our next steps.”
Before she could respond, Artem was already dialing his mother’s number.
Tamara Semyonovna arrived half an hour later, armed with a cake. Setting the table, she smiled with her special, conspiratorial smile.
“Well, my dears,” the mother-in-law began solemnly, raising a glass. “I want to congratulate everyone! Finally, a streak of good fortune has begun for our family.”
Victoria silently stared at her plate. Inside, anxiety was building. She felt that this news would change a lot, but she couldn’t yet understand—what exactly.
“Now all family troubles can be resolved!” Tamara Semyonovna continued enthusiastically. “Victoria, as befits a good wife, will be able to help us. Right, son?”
Artem nodded, avoiding his wife’s gaze.
“Let’s celebrate the inheritance from auntie!” the mother-in-law solemnly raised her glass even higher. “And immediately sort out my youngest’s debts. The lawyer is already waiting…”
Victoria’s fingers, gripping the fork, whitened from tension. In the silence, only the ticking of old wall clocks could be heard—those she had bought with her first paycheck.
Slowly raising her eyes, she looked at Artem. Her husband was focused on his plate, smearing salad remnants around the edges. Not a single objection, not the slightest attempt at support—only silent agreement with his mother.
“Artem,” she called quietly. “Don’t you want to say anything?”
He shrugged, continuing to look down:
“Mom’s right. Dimka really needs help. And so do I.”
Victoria sighed deeply. The clocks continued to tick—tick-tock, tick-tock. Five years. Five long years she had been pulling this marriage alone: paying off loans, settling bills, enduring her husband’s failures, and the endless directions from her mother-in-law.
“Do you really think I owe my money to your family?” Victoria turned to Tamara Semyonovna, not hiding her sarcasm and indignation.
The mother-in-law smiled condescendingly, adjusting a brooch on her blouse:
“Why else have money if not for family? Aren’t you just going to keep it? In a family, you need to help each other.”
“In which family?” Victoria slowly stood up. “In one where a daughter-in-law is seen as a bank account? Or in one where a husband hides debts from his wife?”
“Vika, stop it…” Artem tried to intervene.
But she was no longer listening. In the bedroom, she pulled out an old travel bag and began packing. Her hands trembled slightly, but her thoughts were crystal clear.
“Daughter, where are you going?” Tamara Semyonovna appeared in the bedroom doorway. “Let’s discuss everything calmly. Maybe you’re just tired?”
Victoria methodically continued packing the essentials: toothbrush, comb, documents, a photograph of her parents.
“Vika, you can’t just leave like this!” hysteria tinged the mother-in-law’s voice. “What will happen to Artem? To the family?”
She zipped up her bag and turned to her mother-in-law:
“You know, Tamara Semyonovna, I finally realized one important thing. You have a family—you and your sons. I was just used as a source of funds. But that won’t happen again.”
A week later, Victoria filed for divorce. She rented a modest apartment. Submitted her resignation. Artem called daily, but his words sounded insincere:
“Vika, let’s agree. You understand that you can’t cope alone…”
“I’ve been coping alone for five years, Artem,” she replied calmly. “It’s just that now it will become an official fact.”
The divorce was quick and quiet. The joint apartment was sold, and the money divided equally. When all the inheritance documents were settled, Victoria decided not to sell her aunt’s apartment. Instead, she renovated it and moved in herself. In the spacious three-room apartment, she set up a home office—just in time, as she soon opened her own travel agency.
She also kept the country house for herself. Every weekend, Victoria went there, gradually restoring the property. Physical work in the fresh air helped clear her mind of anxious thoughts. Life in the new city brought relief—here, no one could bother her.
She invested the money in her business. Within a year, Victoria’s agency became one of the best in the city. She specialized in exclusive trips and quickly carved out her niche in the market.
One day, while sorting through Aunt Lena’s old belongings, Victoria found a diary. On the last page was a note: “Financial independence is freedom. But only if you decide how to manage your own money.”
Victoria smiled—it seemed her aunt really understood her.
Now, sitting in her cozy office overlooking the park, Victoria sometimes reflected on how one decision can completely change a life. She was no longer the woman who was afraid to say “no.” Her life now belonged only to her—and that was the most valuable inheritance she had received.