March turned out to be surprisingly warm. The snow disappeared within a week, leaving behind nothing but muddy puddles and the smell of damp earth. Darya was in an excellent mood on her way home—the quarterly bonus she had received was larger than she had expected.
Yegor met her in the entryway. He was leaning against the doorframe, watching her with the expression of a man silently calculating something. Darya understood immediately that someone had already told him.
“Hello, darling. I heard they gave you a pretty generous bonus.”
“Good evening. Yes, I got it today.”
Darya took off her coat and walked into the kitchen. Her husband followed close behind, refusing to let her out of his sight. She put the kettle on and took a cup from the cabinet, feeling his eyes on her back the entire time.
“How much was it, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Fifty-two thousand. After deductions, a little over forty-five.”
“Oh, that’s good. That’s very good.”
Yegor rubbed his hands together and sat down at the table. Darya knew that habit of his. He always sat like that when he was preparing to bargain for something.
“Listen, there’s a situation. Svetka is barely managing with that mortgage. She’s been paying it alone since the divorce. Can you imagine? And little Polina is still so young.”
“I know your sister got divorced. It happened two years ago.”
“Exactly. She could really use thirty or forty thousand right now. She needs to cover several months of payments, and the interest is piling up. Mom called and said things are getting really bad.”
Darya slowly lowered the tea bag into her cup. The hot water gradually turned amber. She waited a moment before answering.
“Yegor, I earned that money. By myself. Do you know how hard I worked during the past three months?”
“Yes, yes, I know. But this is family!”
“Your family. Your sister. She has parents—your parents. She has an ex-husband who is legally required to pay child support. She also has his parents, who adore their granddaughter.”
Yegor frowned. He clearly had not expected her to resist him so quickly. Darya took a sip of tea and continued.
“I can calculate it for you. One hour of my work is worth roughly eight hundred rubles. One working day is about five and a half thousand. One week is twenty-eight thousand. One month is one hundred and twelve thousand. That bonus represents a month and a half of my life. Do you understand?”
“Are you being serious right now? You’re actually calculating it like that?”
“I am completely serious. I am not prepared to sacrifice a month and a half of my life to support a grown woman who chose to get divorced and took out a mortgage even though she knew she could not afford it alone.”
Yegor leaned back in his chair. Irritation appeared on his face, although he was still trying to control himself. Darya decided to soften her tone.
“Listen, I understand that you’re worried about your sister. That’s normal. But you and I also have Alisa, who has been renting an apartment with friends in St. Petersburg for the past two years. I’m the only one sending her money.”
“Alisa is an adult. She can manage on her own.”
“She is twenty-one and still studying. She manages because I transfer money for her rent and groceries every month. Have you sent her anything even once during the past two years?”
Yegor said nothing. His silence answered the question perfectly.
Darya finished her tea and stood up.
“Let’s put it this way. I’m not against helping when we have the opportunity. But not now, and not with that amount. I have obligations of my own.”
“What obligations?”
“My father needs dental treatment. He is seventy-two, and his pension is small. He and my mother gave everything they had to my younger brother when he was starting out. I’m grateful to them because they helped me once too. This apartment we live in was left to the grandchildren by my grandmother. My brother gave up his share in my favor. At our parents’ request, by the way.”
“What does your father have to do with this? We’re talking about Svetka!”
“He has everything to do with it because my parents are family too. My family. I don’t understand why your sister should automatically take priority over them.”
That evening, Darya sat on the sofa with her phone in her hands. Yegor was demonstratively slamming doors and banging dishes around in the kitchen.
She called her mother.
“Hi, Mom. How is Dad?”
“Oh, Dashenka! He’s managing somehow. He says he’s already used to it, but I can see the truth. He only eats porridge and soup. It hurts him to chew anything solid.”
“I received a bonus today. I’m going to transfer some money. Will it be enough for the dental work?”
“Sweetheart, what are you saying? You don’t have to. We’ll find a way…”
“Mom, enough. Dad needs to be able to eat properly. I’ll send it to his card.”
She transferred forty thousand rubles. Five thousand remained in her account for emergencies.
Yegor walked into the room and saw her phone screen.
“What are you doing?”
“I transferred money to my father for his treatment.”
“How much?”
“Forty thousand.”
Yegor’s face turned dark red. Darya saw the veins swelling in his neck and a muscle twitching at his temple. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and finally exhaled through clenched teeth.
“So you can give your precious daddy forty thousand, but my sister, who is genuinely struggling, gets nothing?”
“Your sister is a healthy thirty-four-year-old woman. My father is an elderly man who is in pain every time he tries to chew. The difference is obvious.”
“The difference is that you couldn’t care less about my relatives! That’s the only difference!”
Darya put her phone aside and looked at her husband. She was still hoping he would understand. That he would use his head and remember what basic common sense looked like.
“Yegor, let’s discuss this calmly. Your sister filed for divorce herself. No one threw her out. Her husband didn’t cheat on her, drink, or hit her. She simply decided she would be better off without him. That was her choice.”
“And what does that mean? She deserves to suffer now?”
“It means she has to take responsibility for her decisions, just like every other adult. She took out the mortgage while she was married. She knew she could not afford it alone. Her husband offered to sell the apartment and split the money, but she refused because she wanted to keep everything.”
“How do you know that?”
“Your mother told me. In great detail. About a year and a half ago, at Polina’s birthday party.”
Yegor fell silent.
Darya continued.
“Svetlana has an ex-husband who pays child support regularly. His parents adore Polina and often take care of her. She has your parents—your mother doesn’t work, but your father hasn’t retired yet. And she has you. Why exactly am I supposed to cover her financial problems?”
“Because you have money!”
“Yes, I have money that I earned with my time, my nerves, and my health. I decide how it will be spent.”
“So I don’t get a say?”
Darya stood up from the sofa and walked over to him. She looked directly into his eyes.
“Yegor, you receive your own salary. It isn’t large, but you’re satisfied with it. You’ve said yourself that you don’t want to overwork. I don’t interfere with your money or tell you how to spend it. Why do you think you’re entitled to control mine?”
“Because we’re a family, for goodness’ sake!”
“Exactly. We are a family. You, me, and Alisa. That is our circle of responsibility. Everyone else receives help only when we are willing and able to give it.”
Yegor turned around and left the room. Darya heard him open the refrigerator, take out a beer, and snap off the cap.
She sighed.
An hour later, he returned. He looked calmer, but the same stubborn expression remained on his face.
“Mom called. She says you’re doing this deliberately. She says you’ve always hated Svetka.”
“Your mother can say whatever she wants. I am not obligated to love your sister. I am obligated to treat her respectfully, and I do. But I am not obligated to support her financially.”
“It’s only temporary! She’ll get back on her feet and repay everything!”
“Yegor, she is thirty-four. When exactly is she planning to get back on her feet? At forty? At fifty? When Polina grows up and starts earning money?”
“You’re cruel.”
“I’m realistic. There is a difference.”
A week passed.
Yegor remained gloomy. He spoke through clenched teeth and made a point of calling his sister in front of Darya, loudly expressing sympathy for her problems.
Darya ignored him.
On Friday, he received his salary. It was forty-seven thousand rubles, and he made no effort to hide the amount.
That evening, Yegor placed three thousand rubles on the kitchen table.
“This is for groceries.”
“Three thousand? For the entire month?”
“For two weeks. I’ll give you more later.”
Darya picked up the banknotes and counted them. Three one-thousand-ruble notes. She looked up at her husband.
“And where are the other forty-four thousand?”
“None of your business.”
“You sent them to Svetlana?”
Yegor did not answer, but his expression told her everything.
Darya slowly placed the money back on the table.
“I understand. So you gave me three thousand rubles to run the household, and almost your entire salary went toward your sister’s mortgage. Have I understood the arrangement correctly?”
“Yes. Since you insist on being so principled, live on your own money.”
“All right.”
Yegor clearly had not expected that response.
Darya simply picked up her handbag and went into the bedroom. He remained in the kitchen, looking confused.
The next day, Darya went shopping. She bought groceries for herself and no one else. She placed them in the refrigerator and prepared a single portion of dinner.
Yegor returned home hungry. He opened the refrigerator and saw food containers labeled “Darya” in black marker.
“What kind of circus is this?”
Darya was sitting at the table, finishing a salad. She raised her head and looked at him.
“What circus?”
“Where is my food?”
“I have no idea. You gave me three thousand rubles for household expenses. I used that money to buy cleaning products. Your food is your responsibility.”
“Have you lost your mind? I’m your husband! You’re supposed to feed me!”
“Supposed to? Why? You gave your money to your sister. Let her feed you.”
Yegor stood in the middle of the kitchen, red with anger.
Darya calmly washed her plate and placed it in the drying rack.
“Are you mocking me?”
“Not at all. I’m following your logic. You decided your sister was more important than our household. Fine. I’ve accepted that information. From now on, everyone takes care of themselves.”
“This is ridiculous!”
“These are the consequences of your decisions. As one intelligent person once said, if you want to understand the result, first become acquainted with the cause.”
“What person? What nonsense are you talking about?”
“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you chose this arrangement yourself. Now you can live with it.”
Yegor grabbed his car keys and rushed out of the apartment.
He returned an hour later carrying a bag of fast food. He ate in the living room, sitting on the sofa in front of the television.
Darya pretended not to notice.
The arrangement continued for a week. Yegor survived on ready-made meals, sausages, and sandwiches. Darya cooked proper food for herself—soup, meat patties, and fresh vegetable salads.
She ate in front of him without embarrassment.
By the end of the week, Yegor had run out of money.
He approached his wife with an unexpectedly pleading expression.
“Listen, could you lend me some money until payday?”
“Lend you money?”
“Yes. About five thousand. I’ll repay you next week.”
Darya laughed. It was a brief laugh, not mocking so much as genuinely astonished.
“Yegor, are you serious? You gave forty-four thousand rubles to your sister, left three thousand for the household, and now you’re asking me for a loan?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Ask Svetlana. She has money now—your money.”
“She won’t give me anything. She has a mortgage!”
“Then you’ll have to manage somehow.”
Yegor exploded.
He shouted so loudly that the neighbors probably heard him through two walls. He called Darya greedy, heartless, calculating, and worse. He demanded that she feed him immediately because he was her husband, the master of the house, and the head of the family.
Darya listened without saying a word.
Then she stood, walked directly up to him, and slapped him across the face.
It was a hard slap, delivered without hesitation.
Yegor stumbled backward into the wall, hit his shoulder, and grabbed his cheek.
“What… What are you doing?”
“Bringing you back to your senses. You are not the master of anything, Yegor. You’re a parasite trying to live in two households at once. And you will not stand here screaming at me in my apartment. Yes, my apartment. You are registered here only because I allowed it.”
“You hit me!”
“And I’ll do it again if you don’t calm down. Now go to your mother and complain about your cruel wife. She enjoys stories like that.”
Yegor grabbed his coat and stormed out of the apartment.
An hour later, his mother called.
The Project “A Lifetime in a Day,” Vladimir Leonidovich Shorokhov
Nina Fyodorovna rang the doorbell, and the moment Darya opened the door, she charged into the entryway like a tornado.
“What do you think you’re doing, you poisonous snake? Hitting my son? Your own husband?”
“Good evening, Nina Fyodorovna. Come in, since you’ve already forced your way inside.”
“Don’t try to avoid the subject! I saw the bruise! On his face! He’s a man. He has to appear in public!”
Darya leaned against the wall and folded her arms. She was completely calm—perhaps too calm—and that seemed to enrage her mother-in-law even more.
“Your son screamed obscenities at me in my own home. He received what he deserved. If you don’t approve, take him home with you. I’m not keeping him here.”
“How dare you! He married you and gave you a wonderful life!”
“That is an interesting version of events. I thought I was the one who tolerated him for twenty-two years while he remained content with a tiny salary because he didn’t want to ‘overwork himself.’”
Her mother-in-law gasped in outrage.
“You… You… Svetochka needs help! She’s alone with a child! And you, you spoiled doll, are counting every last kopeck!”
“This spoiled doll earned those kopecks herself and spends them as she sees fit. That includes supporting your granddaughter Alisa, whom you haven’t visited in three years, by the way.”
“Alisa is an adult. She can take care of herself!”
“Oh, that sounds familiar. Your son says exactly the same thing. It must run in the family.”
Darya stepped away from the wall and went into the bedroom.
A minute later, she returned, pulling a huge suitcase behind her—the same suitcase the whole family had once taken with them on seaside vacations.
“Here. Take it. I packed your son’s things. Underwear, clothes, documents—everything is inside. You can take him home.”
“What?”
“Take him to live with you. Since he’s so wonderful, you can feed him, wash his clothes, and listen to his complaints. I’m finished.”
Nina Fyodorovna opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again, but no words came out.
A large, fat fly flew in from the stairwell and began circling the ceiling lamp.
Darya instinctively waved her hand to chase it away.
Nina Fyodorovna recoiled, tripped over the threshold, and fell shrieking onto the landing. She landed on her knees and tore her tights against the sharp edge of a step.
“You… You were trying to hit me! Murderer! Criminal!”
“I was chasing away a fly. Don’t flatter yourself.”
Darya rolled the suitcase onto the landing and placed it beside her mother-in-law.
The woman remained seated on the floor, rubbing her knee and hissing with anger.
“Are you seriously hurt? Do you need assistance?”
“Go to hell!” her mother-in-law snarled. “I’ll make you pay for this! Yegor will leave you, and he’ll be right to do it! At last he’ll find a proper wife!”
“I’ll be delighted. Good luck with the search.”
Darya closed the door.
She listened. The suitcase rattled across the landing, her mother-in-law continued cursing, and the elevator doors slammed shut.
Then everything became quiet.
Darya knew her own worth, and she knew she had done the right thing.
Her phone rang.
The number was hidden, but she recognized the voice immediately.
“Darya, this is Svetlana. Yegor called me. He says you threw him out.”
“Good evening. Yes, I did. More precisely, I suggested that he stay with your mother for a while. His feet accepted the offer.”
“Listen, I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but…”
“Svetlana, I will say this only once. Your brother gave you almost his entire salary. He left three thousand rubles for the household. Then he screamed at me and demanded that I feed him. Do you consider that normal?”
There was a pause.
“Well… he was only trying to help.”
“He wanted to look like a hero at my expense. When that didn’t work, he threw a tantrum. That isn’t help, Svetlana. It is parasitic behavior.”
“You don’t understand. Things are genuinely difficult for me.”
“I do understand. Things are difficult for you. But those are your difficulties, not mine. I have my daughter, my parents, and my own expenses. I’m not going to support an adult woman whose own decisions created her current situation.”
“You’re cruel.”
“Perhaps. But at least I’m honest. Goodbye.”
Darya ended the call and blocked Svetlana’s number.
Then she added her mother-in-law’s number to the blacklist.
Finally, she blocked Yegor as well.
He could think in silence for a while.
A month passed like one long, peaceful day.
Darya worked, sent money to Alisa, and spoke regularly with her parents. Her father had already started his dental treatment and proudly claimed that soon he would be able to bite into apples again.
Yegor lived with his mother.
Judging by the occasional comments Darya heard from mutual acquaintances, he was miserable.
Nina Fyodorovna turned out not to be such a welcoming hostess when it came to permanently housing her adult son. Svetlana called her brother every day to complain about her life. Work, her daughter, the mortgage, her ex-husband—everything poured onto him in an endless stream.
In the middle of April, Darya unblocked his number.
She did it merely out of curiosity.
An hour later, a message arrived.
“Can we talk?”
She replied, “Come at seven.”
He arrived exactly at seven.
Yegor stood on the doorstep holding a bouquet. He had lost weight. His eyes were red, either from lack of sleep or from crying.
Darya felt no pity for him.
“Come in.”
Yegor entered the apartment. He looked around as if he were seeing the place for the first time. Then he placed the flowers on the small cabinet.
“Darya, I…”
“Sit down. We’ll talk.”
They sat in the kitchen.
Darya did not offer him tea or dinner. She simply sat across from him and waited.
“I was an idiot. A complete and absolute idiot.”
“That isn’t news. Continue.”
“My mother has driven me insane. Svetka too. Every day it was the same thing—help me, give me something, do this for me. When I told them I didn’t have any money left, they both became offended. Mom said I was ungrateful. Svetka called me a traitor.”
“Predictable. They were used to you bringing them my money. Once the source disappeared, you became useless.”
Yegor winced but did not argue. Apparently, a month at his mother’s home had taught him when to remain silent.
“I sent money to Alisa.”
“I know. She called and thanked me. She said her father had finally remembered she existed.”
“It was shameful of me to forget about her.”
“It was. What else?”
“I… I want to come back. Home. To you.”
Darya remained silent.
She studied the man with whom she had spent twenty-two years. The same man who, only a month earlier, had screamed at her and demanded food. The man who had given nearly his entire salary to his sister while leaving his wife a few thousand rubles. The man who had involved his mother so she could come and “teach his wife a lesson.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
“Why do you want to return? You were unhappy here. I’m cruel, heartless, and obsessed with counting money. Your mother said so.”
“My mother says many things. Half of them are lies, and the other half are inventions.”
“You only realized that now? After one month?”
“I always knew. I just didn’t want to admit it.”
Darya stood, took two cups from the cabinet, and switched on the kettle.
Yegor followed her movements with hope in his eyes.
She poured tea into both cups, not just her own.
“I have conditions.”
“What conditions?”
“Listen carefully because I will not repeat them. First, your money is our money. My money is our money. It belongs to our household—not to your sister and not to your mother.”
“I agree.”
“Second, Alisa receives regular support from both of us. That is not open to discussion.”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Third, if your mother comes here again with accusations or demands, I will call the building’s security service. I don’t care that she is your mother.”
Yegor nodded. He seemed prepared to agree to anything.
Darya took a sip of tea and continued.
“And finally, if you ever raise your voice at me the way you did last month, I will file for divorce. There will be no discussion and no second chance. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
“Then welcome home.”
She placed a plate of hot, fragrant food in front of him.
Yegor stared at it as if he had witnessed a miracle. A month of ready-made meals and his mother’s constant criticism had clearly left its mark.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. Eat.”
He ate silently and quickly, barely chewing.
Darya watched him without emotion.
She knew her worth. She knew she could live alone peacefully and comfortably, without anyone else’s tantrums or demands.
But family was a choice.
And she chose to give him one more chance.
“How is Svetlana?” she asked when he finished eating.
“Not well. Her ex-husband suggested selling the apartment and buying a smaller place without a mortgage. She agreed. She says she’s tired of struggling.”
“A sensible decision. It’s unfortunate she didn’t make it two years ago.”
“Yes. It is.”
Yegor pushed his plate aside and looked at his wife.
There was something new in his expression—perhaps respect, perhaps fear.
Maybe both.
“Darya, I know I made a terrible mess of everything. Completely. But I want to… I’ll try to become better. Honestly.”
“Try. We’ll see what happens.”
She cleared the dishes and poured more tea.
Outside, darkness was falling. The April evening was warm and quiet. Somewhere in the distance, cars hummed and a dog barked.
“Mom called today,” Yegor said. “She suddenly remembered that you almost killed her. According to her, you pushed her down the stairs.”
“She tripped over the threshold by herself. I even asked whether she was hurt.”
“That’s what I thought. She likes to… embellish things.”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
They sat in silence.
It was not hostile or uncomfortable. It was simply quiet.
Darya thought about how differently everything could have ended a month earlier. She could have screamed, cried, and begged.
Instead, she had established boundaries and defended them.
“Svetlana has parents,” she said. “She has an ex-husband and his parents. She has an entire support system. Yet somehow, she decided that I was her personal bank.”
“Mom encouraged her. She kept saying that you had more money than you knew what to do with. She said you were greedy.”
“I am not greedy, Yegor. I am fair. There is a difference.”
“I understand that now.”
Darya finished her tea and placed the cup in the sink. Then she turned toward her husband.
“Go take a shower. Your things are still where they were. I didn’t throw anything away.”
“Thank you.”
“And Yegor…”
“Yes?”
“If your mother or sister starts pressuring you again, you already know my position. It will not change. Ever.”
He nodded and went into the bathroom.
Darya remained alone in the kitchen.
She looked at her reflection in the darkened window and thought that sometimes love was not about forgiveness.
Sometimes love meant establishing clear boundaries and being willing to defend them.
Her parents had been wise enough to let her younger brother go and help him establish his own life. Then they had allowed her to live independently too, without demanding anything in return.
That was what a real family looked like.
Not one that pulled, demanded, and manipulated.
A real family supported you and then allowed you to go.
Yegor returned half an hour later, clean and refreshed.
He lay down on his side of the bed and turned toward the wall as he had always done. Within a minute, he was asleep.
Darya watched his back.
She had no illusions.
Perhaps everything would happen again in a month or a year. Perhaps he would not have enough strength to resist his mother and sister. Perhaps she would eventually find herself in the same situation.
But if that happened, she would be ready.
She knew her own worth.
And that worth was not three thousand rubles for household expenses.