“Lena, did you purposely oversalt the meat?” Valentina Petrovna pushed the plate away with disgust. “Or do you just not know how to cook?”
I slowly lowered my fork. For the third day in a row, my mother-in-law showed up unannounced and staged a scene during lunch.
Yesterday the soup was too watery, the day before the potatoes were undercooked. Today the meat was oversalted.
“Mom, why are you starting again?” Igor tried to intervene weakly, but his voice lacked conviction.
“What am I starting?” Valentina Petrovna threw up her hands theatrically. “I’m just stating the fact. Your wife can’t cook.”
“And look at this apartment — dust everywhere, things scattered about. Is this how a hostess should keep her home?”
I glanced around our living room. Two books on the coffee table and a throw on the sofa — that was the extent of the mess. But I didn’t argue. I’d learned over three years of marriage — it was useless.
“Valentina Petrovna, if you don’t like my cooking, I can order delivery,” I calmly offered.
“Oh, stop sulking like a little child!” my mother-in-law snorted. “I’m just trying to help you. I want my son to eat properly. But I see — he’s lost weight, looks pale.”
Igor shifted awkwardly in his chair. Yesterday he had happily eaten two servings of my lasagna and asked for seconds. But in front of his mother, he always turned into a compliant boy. “You know what,” Valentina Petrovna got up from the table, “I’ll cook dinner myself. I’ll show you how it should be done.”
She walked to the kitchen, knocking over a vase of flowers on the way. Water spilled onto the tablecloth.
“Oh, how clumsy of me!” she exclaimed without a hint of embarrassment. “Lena, quickly wipe it up before the tablecloth gets ruined. Although it’s already not fresh.”
I silently grabbed a cloth. We had bought that tablecloth just a month ago — linen, expensive.
“And anyway, Igor,” Valentina Petrovna continued, clattering pots, “maybe I should move in with you? I’ll teach your wife some housekeeping, and I’ll look after the grandchildren when they come.”
“Mom, we already talked about this…”
“Talked about what? That the children will only come in a year? Or that I’m not needed?,” her voice trembled. “I only want to help. But if I’m a nuisance, just say so.”
Igor looked at me confused, then at his mother. I knew that look — he was trying to sit on two chairs at once. “Mom, let’s discuss this later,” he finally forced out.
“Later, later!” Valentina Petrovna waved her hands. “Everything is always ‘later’ with you. Meanwhile, I live alone, no one needs me.”
She sobbed dramatically, wiping dry eyes. I turned to the window so I wouldn’t have to watch this performance.
Water was boiling vigorously in the kitchen — water that my mother-in-law had forgotten to turn off.
“Valentina Petrovna, the water is boiling over,” I reminded her.
“Oh, see what you’ve done to this old woman!” she rushed to the stove. “My head’s not working from all the worries.”
The evening passed in tense silence. She made borscht that was too sour, but Igor praised it diligently. I poked at my bowl, thinking about how yesterday my husband and I had planned a romantic dinner.
When Valentina Petrovna finally left, Igor sighed heavily.
“Lena, why are you like that with Mom? You could have been gentler.”
“Gentler?” I couldn’t believe my ears. “Igor, she’s come for three days straight and humiliated me!”
“She’s not humiliating you, she just… cares about me. You know, I’m her only son.”
“So what? Does that give her the right to walk all over me?”
“You’re exaggerating. Mom’s just emotional; don’t take everything to heart.”
I looked at my husband and didn’t recognize him. Where was the man who three years ago swore to protect me from the whole world?
“You know what,” Igor stood and paced the room, “you should apologize to my mother for being rude.”
“What? For what rudeness?”
“Well, you were cold to her, didn’t keep the conversation going. She’s trying to build a relationship, and you…”
“What did I do?”
“You’re behaving like… like an ungrateful person,” he blurted. “She does so much for us!”
“What exactly does she do for us? Shows up uninvited? Criticizes everything? Tries to move in with us?”
“She gives us gifts, helps…”
“Igor, her last ‘gift’ was a set of pots implying mine aren’t good enough. And her ‘help’ is telling all the relatives what a bad wife I am.”
“You’re being unfair to her!” my husband snapped. “Just apologize and everything will be fine. Is it really so hard to do this for me?”
I silently got up and went to the bedroom. Behind me I heard:
“See, you don’t even want to talk! Mom’s right — you’re selfish!”
That night I didn’t sleep, thinking about how everything had changed. Igor used to be my support, now he demanded apologies for things I hadn’t done.
In the morning I woke up to the doorbell. It was seven a.m. on Saturday. Igor was asleep on the sofa — probably sulking.
At the door stood Valentina Petrovna with two huge bags.
“I’m moving in!” she announced cheerfully. “Igor called yesterday, said you didn’t mind.”
I froze. Igor had called his mother after our fight?
“Valentina Petrovna, I think there’s been a misunderstanding…”
“No misunderstanding!” she pushed past me into the apartment. “Igor said you agreed. Even glad I’m helping with the housework.”
“Mom?” sleepy Igor appeared in the doorway. “You’re already here?”
“Of course! You asked me to come early yourself. Said Lena wants to apologize and invite me to live with you.”
I looked at my husband. He avoided my gaze.
“Igor, we need to talk. Alone.”
“Talk later!” Valentina Petrovna was already dragging bags into the guest room. “I’ll get settled. Oh, what a mess in your room! Lena, when did you last dust?”
She opened the door to the guest room, which we used as an office. My work desk stood there with a computer, documents, drawings — I worked from home as an architect.
“This all needs to be cleaned up!” declared my mother-in-law. “I need somewhere to live.”
“This is my office,” I tried to explain.
“So what? You can work in the kitchen. Or the bedroom. I need a proper room.”
She began pushing my project folders off the desk onto the floor.
“Don’t touch!” I rushed to the desk. “These are important documents!”
“Oh, stop yelling!” Valentina Petrovna clutched her chest theatrically. “Igor, your wife is yelling at me!”
“Lena, calm down,” my husband approached me. “Mom didn’t mean it.”
“Didn’t mean it? She’s throwing away my work!”
“I’m not throwing it away, just moving it,” my mother-in-law was offended. “But if I’m bothering you, just say so. I’ll go back and live alone.”
“Mom, don’t say that,” Igor ran to his mother. “Of course, you’re staying. Right, Lena?”
I looked at them both — at my husband who betrayed me, and at his mother who was savoring her victory.
“No,” I said quietly. “No, that’s not true.”
“What?” Igor looked at me in surprise.
“Valentina Petrovna isn’t staying. And I won’t apologize for things I didn’t do.”
“Lena, are you crazy?” my husband blushed. “She’s my mother!”
“And I’m your wife. At least, for now.”
Silence hung in the air. Valentina Petrovna was the first to recover.
“See, son? She’s threatening you! Blackmailing with divorce!”
“I’m not blackmailing. I’m just tired. Tired of constant humiliation, and that my husband can’t protect me from his own mother.”
“How dare you!” screeched my mother-in-law. “I took you into this house, gave money for your wedding!”
“You gave five thousand rubles and then told everyone for a year how you helped us with the wedding,” I answered calmly. “And took me into the house? You’ve been trying to drive me out of it for three years.”
“Igor, are you hearing this?” Valentina Petrovna clutched her chest. “She’s insulting me!”
“Lena, apologize immediately!” my husband barked.
“No.”
“Then… then choose. Either you apologize and we live like a normal family, or…”
“Or what, Igor? Will you choose your mother?”
He was silent, but his face told the story.
“Alright,” I nodded. “Then I have news for both of you.”
I took a folder from my desk drawer.
“What’s that?” Valentina Petrovna was wary.
“Apartment documents. This apartment is in my name. I bought it before the marriage with money from selling my grandmother’s house. And you know what? You have exactly one hour to pack your things and leave MY apartment. Both of you.”
“You can’t…” Igor began.
“I can and I will. You chose your mother — fine. Live together. Just not here.”
“She’s bluffing!” Valentina Petrovna shrieked. “She can’t just kick out her lawful husband!”
“I called Pavel,” I said, dialing my lawyer’s number. “Remember when you said you’d help if I needed it? Yes, that. Can you come? Thanks.”
“Who did you call?” Igor tensed.
“My lawyer. He’ll help handle the divorce properly. And by the way, Valentina Petrovna, now it’s your turn to apologize.”
“For ruining my life for three years. For turning my son against his wife. For trying to drive me out of my own home.”
“I’d rather disappear than…”
“Dear,” Igor suddenly looked at me with different eyes, as if seeing me for the first time, “are you really going to kick me out of the apartment?”
“Don’t you dare!” snapped Valentina Petrovna. “You’re the husband, you have the right!”
“No, Mom. This was her premarital property… Lena, wait, let’s talk.”
“We talked for three years. Or rather, I tried, but you only listened to your mother. Now it’s too late.”
There was a knock at the door. Pavel, my lawyer and friend since university, lived in the next building.
“So fast?” Igor was surprised.
“I’ve been ready for this talk for a long time,” I admitted. “Just hoped you’d come to your senses.”
Pavel entered, assessed the situation, and took out documents.
“No claims on the property?” he asked professionally.
“There are!” Valentina Petrovna shrieked. “She’s kicking my son out on the street!”
“Madam, this is your daughter-in-law’s apartment. She has every right…”
“I won’t let her divorce me! I’ll complain! I…” she suddenly faltered. “Igor, do something!”
But Igor was silent. He looked at me as if seeing me for the first time.
“Lena, was I really that blind?”
“Yes,” I replied simply. “And you know what’s the saddest thing? I loved you. Truly. But you chose your mother.”
“Good choice!” Valentina Petrovna added. “A mother is sacred!”
“Sacred is the family created by two people,” I countered. “And you, Valentina Petrovna, destroyed that family. Congratulations, you got what you wanted. Now Igor is all yours.”
“Lena, I’m sorry,” my husband suddenly said quietly. “I was an idiot. Mom… Mom, Lena’s right. You should apologize.”
“What?!” my mother-in-law couldn’t believe her ears. “Igor, what are you saying?”
“Mom, you poisoned my wife’s life for three years. You turned me against her. You… you ruined my marriage!”
“Me?! I only wanted…”
“Wanted what? For me to be alone? To live with you till old age?” Igor suddenly seemed to see clearly. “God, Lena, forgive me. Forgive me.”
“Too late,” I shook my head. “Too late.”
“Give me one more chance. Mom will apologize now and leave. Right, Mom?”
Valentina Petrovna looked at her son like he was a traitor.
“I… I…” she choked on indignation. “Sorry,” she managed through clenched teeth.
“Louder,” I demanded. “And look me in the eyes.”
“Forgive me, Lena,” my mother-in-law whispered. “For everything.”
“Accepted,” I nodded. “Now leave. Both of you.”
“But…” Igor began.
“No ‘buts.’ You made your choice when you allowed your mother to humiliate me for three years running. When you demanded I apologize for her rudeness. When you invited her to live in my apartment without my consent. That’s it, Igor. Finita la commedia.”
An hour later they left. Valentina Petrovna, never forgiving her son’s “betrayal.” Igor — confused, realizing what he had lost.
I closed the door and for the first time in three years felt free.
The wedding album remained on the table — I was going to throw it away, but changed my mind.
Let it stay as a reminder. That no one, not even the closest, should be allowed to cross your boundaries.
The phone rang — Igor. I declined the call and blocked the number. Both his and his mother’s.
A new life begins with a clean slate. And there will be no place for those who do not know how to respect and appreciate.