Katya hurled the clothes into the washing machine. Her hands were shaking, and a dull pounding beat at her temples. Senya stood in the bathroom doorway, looking at his wife with that same bewildered expression that always drove her absolutely mad.
“Mom isn’t feeling well,” he repeated for the third time in less than a minute. “I can’t just abandon her.”
“Your mother is always not feeling well!” Katya slammed the washing machine door shut. “On Monday it’s her heart, on Wednesday it’s her head, on Friday it’s her blood pressure. And then, miraculously, on Saturday she suddenly has enough energy to tell me how to scrub her toilet!”
“She’s old.”
“She’s sixty-three! My mother is the same age, and she manages perfectly well on her own! Do you know when I last visited my parents? A month ago! And do you know why? Because every single weekend we rush to your mother’s place, and the moment we arrive, she magically comes back to life and starts handing out orders!”
Senya went pale. Usually, when he turned pale like that, Katya stopped. But today she couldn’t stop.
“Do you understand that your mother means nothing to me, and I am not going to serve her anymore? If you think she needs help, then go yourself and scrub her toilet!”
“Katya…”
“Don’t Katya me!” She spun around toward him, her eyes burning. “Five years! For five years, I’ve gone there every Saturday. I clean, I cook, I listen to her tell me what a useless housewife I am. And she sits there on the sofa with that suffering expression of hers, sighing, ‘Oh, my heart… oh, my head…’ But the second I wipe the dust the wrong way, she suddenly has enough strength to jump up and show me how it should be done!”
“She’s just used to things being a certain way…”
“A certain way?” Katya laughed bitterly. “Last Saturday, I spent three hours scrubbing her kitchen. Three hours, Senya! Then I cooked borscht, dumplings, and a casserole. Do you know what she said? ‘The borscht is too watery, the dumplings aren’t like mine, and the casserole is burned.’ I looked at her and finally understood. She does it on purpose. She criticizes me deliberately so I’ll feel like a bad daughter-in-law.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“Exaggerating?” Katya stepped right up to him. “Two Sundays ago, your mother called at seven in the morning. She said she was so dizzy she couldn’t get out of bed. We rushed over in half an hour. And she greeted us already dressed, her hair done, with a shopping list ready and instructions about which curtains needed washing!”
Senya looked away. Katya could see him hesitating, and that only made her angrier.
“Do you know what hurts the most?” she continued, her voice quieter now, which somehow made it even more frightening. “You don’t see it. You don’t want to see it. To you, she will always be this helpless old woman who needs care. But to me, she’s a manipulator who has stolen our weekends, our time, our life.”
“Katya, she’s my mother…”
“So what? Does that make her a saint? She’s using you! She’s using your love, your sense of duty. She calls because she knows you’ll come running. And I’m expected to run along with you, because otherwise I’m a terrible wife.”
Senya clenched his fists.
“She’s alone. She has no one but me.”
“And what about me? Do I have even one weekend when I can simply stay home? Read a book, watch a movie, meet a friend? No! Because every Saturday we go to your mother, and every Saturday she finds work for me to do!”
“You can refuse.”
“Refuse?” Katya almost choked on her outrage. “Do you remember what happened the one time I stayed home? Your mother didn’t answer my calls for an entire week. Then she told you I was a heartless egoist who didn’t respect her elders. And you, Senya, you said nothing! You didn’t defend me!”
“I didn’t want a fight…”
“So it was better to let me feel guilty?”
Silence fell between them. Senya stared at the floor. Katya stared at him. Images from the past months flashed through her mind: her mother-in-law dramatically clutching her chest because Katya hadn’t washed the dishes in water hot enough; her mother-in-law wrinkling her nose at the “wrong” smell of chicken; her mother-in-law sighing at the sight of an unironed towel.
“She’s acting,” Katya said. “Do you understand? It’s all a performance. Her health is perfectly fine. She goes shopping, walks to the clinic to get papers for her benefits, meets her friends. But the moment you call her, she turns into a frail old woman.”
“How do you know?”
“I’m a woman. I can see the way she looks at me. She hates that I took her son away from her. And now she’s getting revenge in the only way she can: by turning me into her servant.”
“That’s insane…”
“Insane?” Katya walked past him into the living room, grabbed her phone, and tapped the screen. “Here. Read this.”
Senya took the phone. On the screen was a chat between his mother and her former classmates. The latest message from her read: “Girls, I won’t be able to come to the meeting on Saturday. My son and daughter-in-law are coming over. I need to feed them and give them some errands, otherwise they’ll forget about their mother completely.” Beneath the message were laughing emojis and replies: “Good for you, Lena, keep them in line!” and “That’s right, don’t let them forget their mother!”
Senya’s face slowly changed. Katya watched disbelief and understanding struggle in his eyes.
“Where did you get this?”
“One of her friends accidentally sent me the screenshot. She thought she was sending it to another Katya. Then she realized her mistake and asked me to delete it. But I saved it.”
“When?”
“A month ago. I wanted to show you earlier, but I was afraid. Afraid you’d think I was trying to turn you against your mother.”
Senya sat down on the sofa. He was still holding the phone.
“She isn’t seriously ill,” Katya said more gently. “She has the usual age-related issues, like everyone else. But she isn’t dying. She just figured out that complaining about her health works. You come, you bring me, and she gets company and a free housekeeper.”
“I didn’t know…”
“Because you didn’t want to know. It’s easier to believe that your mother is weak and sick than to admit she’s manipulating you.”
Senya looked up at her. There was so much pain in his eyes that Katya nearly softened. But she was tired. Tired of pretending everything was fine. Tired of acting as if she didn’t see her mother-in-law’s games. Tired of sacrificing herself.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“I want my life back. I want weekends when we can just stay home or visit my parents. I want you to finally see what’s happening.”
“And what am I supposed to do now? Abandon my mother?”
“No. But stop letting her control you. Call her and tell her we’re not coming this Saturday. We’re simply not coming. No explanations, no excuses.”
“She’ll be offended.”
“Let her be. Maybe then she’ll understand that the world doesn’t revolve around her.”
Senya said nothing. Katya waited. She understood that something important was being decided right now. Either he would stand with her, or she would remain alone in this war.
“All right,” he finally said.
“What do you mean, all right?”
“I’ll call her. I’ll tell her we have plans.”
“And when she starts whining about her heart?”
“I’ll tell her we’ll come next weekend. Or the weekend after.”
Katya felt the tension slowly begin to leave her body. It wasn’t everything she wanted to hear, but it was a start.
“And what if she really gets sick?” Senya asked quietly.
“Then we’ll go. But not at the first phone call. We need to learn the difference between her actually being unwell and her simply being bored.”
He nodded. Katya came over and sat beside him.
“I’m not trying to take your mother away from you,” she said. “I just want us to have a life too. I want us to be able to plan our weekends without constantly waiting for her to call.”
“I understand.”
“And one more thing. The next time she criticizes me, defend me. Tell her I’m your wife and that you’re on my side. I need to know that.”
Senya took her hand.
“I’m sorry. I truly didn’t understand. I thought I was helping.”
“You were helping. Just not me.”
They sat in silence. Outside the window, it was getting dark. The washing machine in the bathroom began its spin cycle, and a steady hum filled the apartment. Katya rested her head on her husband’s shoulder and closed her eyes. She didn’t know whether they would succeed. She didn’t know whether Senya would be able to stand up to his mother. But at least the attempt was worth something.
“Will you call her now?” she asked.
“Now.”
Senya took out his phone. Katya saw his fingers trembling as he dialed the number. She heard the long ringing tones. Then came his mother-in-law’s bright voice.
“Senyechka! I was just about to call you. My blood pressure has been terrible since morning…”
“Mom,” Senya interrupted. “We’re not coming this Saturday.”
A pause. A long, heavy pause.
“What?” his mother’s voice changed. “Did something happen to you?”
“No. We just have plans.”
“What plans? Senyechka, you know I’m not feeling well. I thought you would help me with…”
“Mom. We’ll come another time.”
“But…”
“Have a good evening, Mom.”
He hung up. The phone immediately rang again. Senya rejected the call and muted it.
Katya looked at him, hardly able to believe it. He had really done it. For the first time in five years, he had put their family first.
“She’ll keep calling all night,” Senya said.
“Let her.”
“Tomorrow she’ll write that she’s having a heart attack.”
“We’ll survive.”
Senya smiled faintly. He looked exhausted, but relieved.
“You know what’s strange? I feel lighter somehow.”
“That’s what freedom feels like,” Katya said. “When you stop being held hostage by someone else’s manipulation, you can finally breathe.”
They sat there in each other’s arms, and Katya thought about how many conversations, scandals, and accusations still lay ahead. Her mother-in-law would not give up easily. She would call, complain, and play on his guilt. But now Katya knew the most important thing: she wasn’t alone. Senya had seen it. He had understood. He had stood beside her.
“Shall we visit my parents on Saturday?” she asked.
“We will.”
“My mom will be happy. She already thinks I’ve forgotten about them.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. We just need to live differently from now on.”
The phone on the table kept lighting up with incoming calls. Once, twice, three times. Senya didn’t even look at the screen. Katya pressed closer to him.
There was a long road ahead toward normal relationships. Maybe they would have to explain themselves, set boundaries, and listen to accusations. But it was their road. Their choice.
And that was already a victory.