Anna was leisurely rolling out the dough, trying to give it a perfect shape. It was an ordinary Tuesday, but she had decided to bake a mushroom pie—Vadim’s favorite treat. Her husband was due home from work in an hour, and she wanted to surprise him with a pleasant dinner.
Sunbeams filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow on the kitchen table. Anna loved these quiet moments when she could focus on household tasks. It was at times like these that she felt most acutely that marrying Vadim had been the right decision.
Five years of marriage had flown by unnoticed. Vadim turned out to be exactly the man she had dreamed of: caring, attentive, kind. He always found ways to delight her—be it an unexpected bouquet of flowers or help around the house. But there was one cloud that periodically overshadowed their family happiness: her husband’s relatives.
Remembering her mother-in-law’s last visit, Anna sighed involuntarily. As usual, Maria Petrovna had started with the refrigerator.
“Again, there’s basically nothing here?” she tutted, though the shelves were stocked with food. “Vadim must be starving in this house.”
“Mama, what are you talking about…” Vadim tried to protest, but fell silent under his mother’s stern gaze.
At the time, Anna had said nothing, though inside she was seething. She cooked very well, and Vadim always praised her meals. But it was as if her mother-in-law deliberately looked for reasons to criticize.
Fortunately, Vadim’s relatives lived in another city, and their visits were infrequent. But every visit turned into a true ordeal, especially when Maria Petrovna was joined by Vadim’s aunt, Galina Petrovna.
“Look at how she’s mopping the floors,” she would mutter, loudly enough for Anna to hear. “She’s wringing out the cloth all wrong. It’s going to leave streaks.”
Those words resurfaced from her memories when Anna noticed she had pressed too hard with the rolling pin, making the dough too thin. She would have to start all over again.
Just then, the doorbell rang. Vadim stood on the threshold, unusually pale and worried.
“Why are you home so early?” Anna asked, wiping her hands on her apron.
“We need to talk,” Vadim said, walking into the kitchen and sinking heavily onto a stool.
The seriousness on his face alarmed her. He only ever looked like that when something truly serious happened. She had last seen that expression a year ago, when he had nearly lost his job.
“Did something happen?” Anna sat down next to him, carefully touching his hand.
“Mom’s in trouble,” Vadim began, avoiding her gaze. “Do you remember that project she invested in after selling the dacha?”
Anna remembered it well. Months of talk about a miraculous investment company that supposedly promised huge profits. She had advised caution, but her mother-in-law had merely waved her off: “You don’t understand anything about business.”
“It was a scam,” Vadim continued. “The company vanished with all her money. And Mom… she even took out a loan secured by her apartment.”
Anna closed her eyes, already guessing where this was heading.
“The bank is taking the apartment?” she asked quietly.
“Yes. We have to vacate it in a month. And that’s not all… Vitya’s in a difficult situation too.”
Vitya was Vadim’s younger brother, who worked at an IT company. Anna had only met him a couple of times, but he had struck her as frivolous and irresponsible.
“What happened?”
“He got fired. He says it was downsizing, but I suspect he just couldn’t cope. He’s in a rented place and can’t pay for it now…”
Anna could already imagine what Vadim was going to suggest, but still hoped she was wrong.
“They need temporary help,” he finally said, looking up at her carefully and choosing his words.
“What kind of help?” Anna tensed, feeling mounting anxiety.
“Well… our apartment is quite spacious,” Vadim began. “Three rooms. We could let them stay for a while…”
Anna stood up abruptly, pushing her chair aside. Her thoughts darted between wanting to support her husband and realizing the implications. Maria Petrovna, who already tried to take charge during brief visits, would now be doing so constantly. And Vitya, with his careless attitude, would throw their measured life into chaos.
“Vadim, do you realize what you’re asking?” Anna’s voice trembled slightly. “It won’t just be a couple of days…”
“Mom will find a job quickly,” he rushed to reassure her. “She’s an experienced accountant. And Vitya… he’ll figure something out too. It’s only for a short while, I promise.”
“A short while?” Anna scoffed bitterly. “Do you remember how your cousin came to stay ‘just for a little while’? That lasted three months! And the entire time, I felt like a servant in my own home.”
Vadim grimaced, recalling that unhappy memory.
“This time will be different,” he tried to calm her. “Mom and Vitya will simply stay with us until they find a new place.”
Anna froze, her hands hanging at her sides. The unfinished pie lay forgotten on the table.
“Why didn’t you consult me first?” she asked quietly, but her voice was steely.
“You understand they’re in a tough spot,” Vadim said gently, as though explaining something to a child. “We can’t just abandon them. She’s my mother, and Vitya is my brother.”
Anna turned toward the window, where the last glow of the setting sun was fading. The word “temporarily” sounded like a final sentence. For Vadim, it might mean a couple of weeks; for Maria Petrovna, it could mean years.
The next few weeks were a whirlwind of activity. Vadim hurried around the apartment, preparing rooms for his family. Anna went about her household chores on autopilot, trying to maintain external composure. Reality hit with full force when, one morning over coffee, her husband happily announced:
“They’re arriving this evening!”
Anna gripped her cup so hard that her knuckles turned white. Something inside her screamed that this was a mistake, but she forced herself to smile. Maybe it really would be quick. She even remade the beds in the guest rooms and bought fresh towels.
Maria Petrovna and Vitya arrived closer to evening. Her mother-in-law looked less assured than usual—losing her apartment had clearly shaken her. But as soon as she crossed the threshold, she slipped back into her old ways.
“Good heavens, why is it so stuffy in here?” she said, heading straight for the windows.
Meanwhile, Vitya had already settled on the couch, opening his laptop and plugging in the charger.
“Vitya, maybe unpack first?” Anna suggested gently.
“Later,” he said over his shoulder. “I’ve got a rush freelance gig.”
“What gig?” she asked, puzzled. “You got fired, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, it’s freelance,” he responded brusquely, engrossed in the screen.
Within an hour, the kitchen had been transformed beyond recognition. Maria Petrovna had “brought some order” by rearranging every item to her liking. Anna could only watch in silence as the carefully organized space turned to chaos.
“How do you even cook in here?” her mother-in-law muttered, hanging knives on the wall and moving pans around. “Tools should be right at hand, not buried in drawers. And you have to protect the countertop from scratches.”
A week passed. Anna struggled to keep her patience, but every day it became more difficult. Vitya spent most of his time on the couch, ostensibly job hunting but more often playing online games. Maria Petrovna, as always, took charge of everything as though she were in her own home.
“Vadim,” Anna finally ventured when they were alone, “you said it would just be temporary. Have they found any options yet?”
Vadim hesitated, avoiding her gaze. “They… need more time to get back on their feet.”
“And how much time is that?” Desperation crept into Anna’s voice.
“Let’s not make things worse,” Vadim tried to hug her, but she gently and firmly moved away.
They all gathered for dinner that evening. Maria Petrovna examined the meal intently, barely touching her plate.
“These meatballs are too dry. Where’s the gravy? Vadim always likes them with gravy.”
“Yes, and they need more salt,” Vitya chimed in, though he had been eating quietly until then.
“We need to make a grocery list,” the mother-in-law suddenly declared. “Now that we live here, we need to plan everything properly.”
Anna froze, her fork suspended in midair.
“What do you mean, ‘now that we live here’?” she asked, struggling to remain calm.
“Why are you so surprised?” Maria Petrovna replied, as though she didn’t understand the issue. “This is our home now. You’ll provide everything we need, and we’ll share our experience.”
Anna felt long-restrained indignation start to boil over. Five years of trying to please, five years of silent compromises—all of it burst through in a single moment.
She slowly laid her fork on the table. Her voice was firm: “No. I’m not going to support you. And you’re not staying here permanently.”
Maria Petrovna nearly choked on her tea. Vitya tore his eyes from his phone, staring at Anna in disbelief. An oppressive silence filled the room.
“Anya, why so harsh?” her mother-in-law tried to change her tone. “We’re family, after all. Vadim, explain it to her!”
But Vadim only bowed his head, refusing to meet Anna’s gaze. His silence spoke volumes: he had always followed his mother’s lead, and now he couldn’t bring himself to resist her.
Anna stood and went to the cupboard. She retrieved a folder of documents, returned to the table, and set it down.
“This apartment belongs to me,” she said clearly, each word cold and distinct. “I inherited it from my grandmother. I’m the sole owner.”
She turned to her husband, who remained seated with his head down. “If you want to stay with them, you can go right now.”
Maria Petrovna threw up her hands dramatically. “How dare you! Vadim, will you allow her to treat your own mother like this?”
But Vadim was already on his feet, gathering his belongings. Within minutes a suitcase stood by the front door, joined soon by Vitya’s and Maria Petrovna’s bags.
Anna stayed by the window. The final traces of sunset lit the horizon in crimson. Behind her, she heard hurried footsteps, hushed voices, and then the door slamming shut.
Once they were all gone, she took a deep breath. For the first time in a long while, the apartment was genuinely quiet—no tense faces, no forced politeness.
A week later, Anna filed for divorce. Vadim didn’t object or try to come back. Apparently, he had chosen to remain the dutiful son.
Gradually, life began to change. Anna rearranged the furniture, renovated a bit, and bought new curtains. On weekends, she started going to yoga classes, something she had always wanted to do but had never tried because of her mother-in-law’s mockery.
A month later, she completely overhauled her kitchen. One evening, as she sat sipping her favorite herbal tea, Anna realized that for the first time, she truly felt at home. Now she knew: family isn’t those who exploit you, but those who respect you and your boundaries.
Her phone buzzed on the table— a message from Vadim: “Forgive me. I messed everything up.” Anna read it, smiled faintly, and set the phone aside. Some apologies come too late, when there’s nothing left to fix.
The divorce was finalized quickly—Vadim agreed to everything without dispute. Rumor had it that he, his mother, and his brother had rented an apartment on the outskirts of town. Maria Petrovna had found a job as an accountant, and Vitya was still figuring out what to do next.
But that no longer mattered to Anna. Now she woke up in her own bed every morning. She made breakfast just for herself. And each day, she met her own reflection in the mirror with a calm, easy smile. Life went on—this time free, honest, and full of joy.