“I want to introduce you to my mother tonight, after dinner,” Oleg told his girlfriend, sitting down on the edge of the sofa.
“Why?” Angela asked calmly, looking at the man she already considered her husband. She sat in her favorite armchair, casually flipping through the pages of a fashion magazine.
Oleg was surprised; for a moment, he was even confused. A young man used to logic and order in everything did not expect such a reaction.
“Well,” he finally said, “we’re getting married soon, and you still haven’t met my mother. Besides, she’s asked about you.”
“No,” came the quick reply.
“No?” The man thought maybe he said something wrong, so just to be sure he asked again: “Did you say you don’t want to meet my mother?”
“That’s right,” Angela answered. “I don’t want to.”
“Explain why,” he couldn’t understand why his fiancée, whom he was about to marry, didn’t want to meet his mother.
“Mother-in-law problems are eternal. I’m not forcing you to meet my mother because she would be your mother-in-law, and there would be scandals,” she said, putting the magazine aside.
“Where did you get that idea?” Oleg asked her. “My sister Yulka has a great mother-in-law.”
“I don’t want to,” Angela repeated once more. “No meetings.”
Alright, Oleg didn’t insist. Maybe Angela had her reasons. After all, there was still time before the wedding, and he would talk to her about it again. Outside, the rain intensified, droplets drumming louder on the eaves as if emphasizing the tension of the moment.
Once a week, Oleg visited his mother just like that: to check in, have some tea, hear news, and make sure she was well.
“We’ve filed the paperwork for the registry office,” he told her, finally announcing that he had found a future wife.
“Congratulations,” Lyudmila Vasilyevna said, hugging her son. “When will I see your chosen one?”
“Mom…” Oleg hesitated. He understood well that not introducing a fiancée to parents was unusual.
“What?” the woman asked and opened a new pack of cookies.
“Angela doesn’t want to meet,” he said, but seeing his mother about to ask “why,” he continued: “She has two older sisters, and as I understand it, they have problems with their mothers-in-law. So Angela thinks if she meets you, problems will start.”
“Hmm,” Lyudmila Vasilyevna chuckled.
She recalled her own mother-in-law, with whom she had fought like cats the first year, but after the birth of her eldest daughter Yulia, the mother-in-law softened dramatically, so she understood Angela.
“Well, we’ll wait,” the woman said, sliding the cookies closer to her son.
Back home, Oleg was surprised to find Marina, Angela’s older sister, visiting, even though Angela often said she did not recognize relatives.
Half an hour later, Marina left, and Angela took Oleg’s phone because hers had recently started malfunctioning. She turned on some movie. After a couple of minutes, the phone rang; Oleg wanted to answer, but Angela beat him to it.
“Don’t call again,” she replied coldly and turned the movie back on.
“Who was calling?” Oleg asked.
“I don’t know,” Angela answered.
Oleg came over, held out his hand, and Angela paused the movie and reluctantly handed him the phone.
Oleg opened the call log and saw it was his mother calling.
“On what grounds did you tell my mother not to call?” Oleg asked his fiancée coldly.
“We need to put all the dots over the ‘i’s right away,” Angela answered coldly.
“You will apologize to my mother now, okay?” he suggested, looking at her. She sighed heavily and nodded.
Oleg dialed his mother.
“Mom, hi, it’s me. Angela was watching a movie and probably thought the call was spam. I’ll hand the phone to her now,” and he handed the phone to the girl.
She took it, looked at Oleg, then lowered her gaze, brought the phone to her lips, and said:
“Please forgive me, I really didn’t notice.”
“No problem,” came the short reply.
Oleg took the phone from Angela’s hands:
“Mom, I’ll call you back later, okay?” She answered something, and he nodded and hung up.
For three years now, Oleg had been working for an oil company. There was a lot of work: reports and more reports, but he was paid well, very well. Thanks to this, he managed to take out a mortgage on a three-room apartment and would make the last payment this month. It was a relief, though he still had two loans left: one for furniture he bought for the apartment, and another for a car. But that was less scary. If all went well, in a year or two he would be free of those too.
“We have a wedding in three weeks!” Angela sat down next to Oleg, hugged him, and kissed his cheek.
“I thought the wedding was at least a couple of months away.”
“Yes, yes, and you will be my husband,” Angela rolled her eyes at the last word, “my very own husband!”
“Sounds tempting,” the man replied and hugged her. She giggled and immediately sat on his lap.
After kissing him a couple of times, she squinted and quietly asked:
“Hey, before the wedding, why don’t we go relax somewhere on some islands? Or at least just to the sea?”
“That would be nice,” Oleg replied.
He had been thinking about it himself. He was tired of working, sometimes having to sit with paperwork ten or even twelve hours. He couldn’t even sleep enough on weekends, so the idea of going to the sea was tempting but impossible.
“It won’t work,” he told his fiancée.
“Oh, why not?” Angela asked sadly.
“I just finished paying the mortgage, and I still have two loans,” he showed two fingers, “I can’t skip those.”
Angela thought for a while. She pressed close to him, listened to his heartbeat, and then suggested:
“Why don’t you borrow from your mother?”
“Oh!,” Oleg said. “You said you didn’t want to meet my mother. That means you don’t have my relatives, and for me, it means I don’t have my relatives. And from this, it follows that I can’t ask my mother for money.”
Angela straightened up and looked carefully into Oleg’s eyes. She thought he was joking, but the man was serious as never before. Snorting discontentedly, she got up, looked once more at the groom, then went to the bedroom with a displeased look.
A couple of days later, Oleg was sitting in the kitchen, leaning back on the couch and sipping strong coffee. Suddenly he remembered he promised to call his mother.
“Hi, Mom!”
“Aunt Lyuba was hospitalized.”
“Is it serious?” Oleg asked his mother.
“You know she has heart failure, plus diabetes. And now also respiratory failure.”
“Yeah,” the man said sympathetically. He remembered Aunt Lyuba well — a plump woman who rarely left the house lately but was kind, and he often stayed at her place as a child.
“Which hospital is she in?”
“They took her to the regional hospital and resuscitated her. I told her long ago to watch her calories. But you know her…”
“Yes,” Oleg agreed. Aunt Lyuba loved to eat, sometimes every half hour.
“I’m going to see her tomorrow, it’s not far from you.”
“What room?”
“Three twenty-six. Visitors after four. But don’t bring anything.”
“Can I bring juice or fruit?”
“Tangerines are better. You know she loves them.”
“Then I’ll stop by tomorrow,” Oleg said.
They talked a bit more, then he hung up and put the phone on the table.
“Why are you calling her?” Angela came into the kitchen and sat opposite Oleg.
“That’s my mom,” the man answered, not understanding the question.
“Nowadays, everyone lives separately, each on their own.”
“Sure, but that’s my mom, and that says it all.”
Oleg didn’t understand why he should or shouldn’t call his mother.
Pouring herself some tea, Angela left for the living room.
In the morning, leaving for work, Oleg called his mother again to ask the room number.
“Ah, got it,” he quickly wrote the number on his hand (he always did that so he wouldn’t forget). “I’ll drop by after work,” he told his mother, kissed Angela, and left.
As promised, Lyudmila Vasilyevna visited her sister in the hospital. She was already feeling better, puffing like a steam engine but walking steadily along the wall.
“Here, give this to your son,” Aunt Lyuba said, digging in her robe pocket and pulling out a small keychain.
“Oh!” Lyudmila Vasilyevna was surprised. “I thought I lost it.”
“It was in my pocket; Oleg gave it to me. What would I do with it? Better he has it,” the woman handed the keychain to her sister.
They sat for about fifteen minutes, then Lyudmila Vasilyevna said goodbye and decided to visit Oleg at home — after all, he lived nearby.
Climbing to the fourth floor (no elevator in this five-story building), the woman went to the door and rang the bell. No one answered. She thought no one was home, but suddenly the lock clicked, and the door opened — a girl was looking at her.
“Are you Angela?” Lyudmila Vasilyevna asked the stranger.
“Yes,” she answered and raised her eyebrows questioningly.
“I’m Lyudmila Vasilyevna, Oleg’s mother.”
“Ah,” Angela dragged out, her face showing a displeased grimace.
“May I come in and wait for your son?” she asked her future daughter-in-law.
“No,” came the cold reply immediately.
Surprised, Lyudmila Vasilyevna stepped back, feeling a cold wind blow on her.
“No,” Angela repeated and added, “Leave and don’t come to my house again.”
With those words, she closed the door.
For a while, Lyudmila Vasilyevna stood there, unsure what to do — maybe call her son and complain about his fiancée’s rude behavior. But in the end, she didn’t. After all, Oleg was a grown man, and if he chose such a woman, it suited him. Sighing heavily, she went home.
After Oleg visited his aunt and learned she was fine, he went home. On the way, he stopped at a flower shop and spent about ten minutes choosing flowers. Finally, he paid for the bouquet and hurried to his beloved.
Opening the door, he immediately heard women’s voices.
“It’s me who came!” Oleg announced, taking off his shoes.
Angela appeared, looking stunning in a wedding dress.
“For me?” the girl exclaimed excitedly and, taking the bouquet from her fiancé’s hands, pressed it to her chest.
“Careful, don’t get it dirty,” the man softly asked.
Angela beamed with happiness, hugged him, and without paying attention to her sister Nina standing behind him, kissed his lips a few times.
“You seem to be sleeping in that dress soon,” Oleg smirked and greeted his sister-in-law. She just nodded in response.
After kissing Oleg again, Angela returned to the living room and began twirling in front of a large mirror.
Oleg didn’t want to listen to the women chatter about the upcoming wedding. He went to the bedroom to change.
“By the way,” Angela peeked into the room, “your mother came.”
“Mom?” Oleg was surprised.
“Yes, she came.”
“When?” he was very surprised by this news.
“About half an hour ago. I didn’t let her in,” Angela said proudly.
“Repeat what you did?”
“I didn’t let her in,” she repeated proudly.
Not believing her words, Oleg took his phone and dialed his mother.
“Mom, did you come by?” he asked.
“Yes,” a woman’s voice answered.
“And what happened?” he asked, looking at the fiancée who shrugged and left to the living room.
“They didn’t let me in,” Lyudmila Vasilyevna replied as calmly as possible. “I wanted to give you your pendant that you gave to Aunt Lyuba; it stayed in her pocket all this time.”
“You mean Angela didn’t let you in?”
“I didn’t even get into the hallway. She told me not to come anymore.”
“I’ll call you later,” Oleg said and hung up.
He felt sick, his face flushed, breathing became difficult, and his thoughts stopped for a while. The man went to the window and looked outside for several minutes. The chatter of his sister-in-law spinning around Angela still echoed from the living room. Finally regaining composure, Oleg came out and asked his fiancée:
“Why didn’t you let my mother in?” he asked calmly.
“I don’t intend to have relationships with your relatives,” Angela replied again for the umpteenth time.
“That’s my mom,” his voice trembled.
“I don’t care who she is. There will be no mother-in-law in my house,” the girl turned to him, looked coldly, and added, “Because of them, there are constant conflicts. There won’t be,” she said again.
Oleg returned to the bedroom. He felt emptiness — yes, emptiness. Just a few minutes ago, he loved Angela, but now his soul was empty, completely empty, without even a tiny spark of love left. He understood one thing only — she was not the woman he wanted to spend his life with.
Silently, he went to the kitchen, took out garbage bags, and returned to the bedroom. He took out a suitcase and slowly packed Angela’s things, and what didn’t fit he packed into bags.
Finally, everything was packed, and Nina continued chattering about how wonderful her younger sister’s dress was.
Oleg opened the bedroom door and, without a word, took the suitcase to the hallway. At first, Angela didn’t pay attention, but when he carried two bags, she asked:
“What’s this?”
“Your things,” Oleg replied briefly.
Clicking in heels, Nina ran to the bag, opened it, and saw it really was her sister’s things.
“What does this mean?” she loudly asked the man.
“Who are you?” Oleg asked coldly.
“Your wife’s sister!”
“My wife doesn’t have a sister,” the man immediately answered.
The girls exchanged glances.
“She’s my sister!” Angela declared loudly.
“You,” Oleg pointed his finger at the woman he loved, “you,” he repeated, “refused to recognize my relatives. Why did you think I would recognize yours?” After a pause, he added: “For me, your sisters don’t exist.” He turned his head to Nina and added: “You’re a stranger here.”
“How dare you!” Angela shouted.
“Oh,” Oleg said, “don’t like it when I pay you back with your own coin?”
Then Nina screamed. She invoked all the saints in heaven and somewhere underground. For some time, Oleg listened calmly. Then the screams of hatred were joined by Angela.
“If my woman treats my mother so contemptuously,” Oleg looked coldly at his fiancée, “then she treats me with contempt too.”
“No!” Angela immediately declared.
“And I don’t intend to live with a woman who despises me.”
He went to the bedroom, took two more bags, and went to the exit.
“What are you doing?” the girl screamed.
“I want you to leave,” Oleg said as calmly as possible.
“No!” Angela declared immediately.
“Get out!” he shouted so loud that even he was scared of his own voice.
Nina stepped back from the man. Maybe she had encountered such anger before. Seeing her sister opening the door, Angela hurried after her.
“What about the wedding?” she asked the man.
“No wedding,” Oleg growled, “no wedding!”
At that moment, bags flew at him, and things scattered, but Oleg stepped on them and walked toward Angela, who, seeing his cold look, quickly retreated.
A couple of seconds later, she left for the stairwell in her wedding dress.
“Get out!” Oleg said one last time and immediately closed the door.
His soul was sick, painful, disgusting, and vile. Ignoring the scattered things, he returned to the spacious living room. In two weeks, he was supposed to register the marriage with Angela at the registry office and transfer his apartment to her as his wife.
Taking his phone, Oleg stood still for several minutes. Only after calming down did he dial his mother’s number.
“Mom, sorry it turned out like this,” his voice was dull.
“Is everything okay?” Lyudmila Vasilyevna asked worriedly.
“Yes, now it’s definitely okay,” he glanced at the scattered things and added, “Mom, I’ll call you later.”
He pressed the screen, and the call ended.
Putting the phone on the nightstand, Oleg bent down and began collecting the things of the woman he loved. Yes, he thought he loved her, but did she love him? Now it didn’t matter anymore. There was no anger in his soul; surprisingly, it evaporated quickly. Gathering everything, he carefully folded the things into a bag. Tomorrow he would call a courier and send it all to her mother’s house.
Entering the bright kitchen, he turned on the kettle, opened a cupboard, and took out a tea package that some girl from work had given him. He forgot who exactly, but the tea was very tasty.
The room was dim in the autumn evening light. Outside, the last yellow birch leaves rustled, and a few passersby hurried to shelter from the drizzle under umbrellas. Oleg mechanically performed his usual actions, trying to return to a normal life.