Olga was scrolling through reports on her tablet when Maksim burst through the door with a crash. One look at his face made it clear—something had happened. He didn’t even take off his shoes; he stopped right on the threshold, and his voice cut through the apartment’s silence.
“How dare you block my sister’s card?” her husband shouted indignantly, waving his phone. “She just called me in tears! Says she can’t even buy groceries!”
Olga slowly set the tablet aside and looked at Maksim. Calmly. Too calmly for someone being accused of cruelty.
“Sit down,” she said evenly. “We’ll talk.”
“Sit down?!” Maksim marched into the room but didn’t sit. “Do you even understand what you’ve done? Lena has no money! Not a penny!”
“Not a penny?” Olga raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. Then why did your mother tell me yesterday that Lena has been living with her for three weeks and hasn’t given a single ruble toward food?”
Maksim fell silent. Briefly.
“What does Mom have to do with this? We agreed to help Lena until she found a job. You agreed yourself!”
Olga stood up, walked to the window, and looked out at the evening city. Lights were flicking on one by one, turning the gray landscape into something cozy and far away—far away from this conversation.
It had all started two months earlier. Maksim came home from work upset, poured himself tea, and sat in silence at the kitchen table for a long time. Olga knew better than to rush him—when he was ready, he’d tell her.
“They laid Lena off,” he finally blurted out. “From work. Says the company’s optimizing, they fired half the department.”
Olga set a frying pan on the stove.
“That’s a shame. Is she looking for something new already?”
“Yeah, of course. But you know what the job market’s like right now…” Maksim rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Olya, I was thinking… maybe we could help her a little? Temporarily. A month or two at most.”
Olga paused with an onion in her hand.
“Help—how?”
“I don’t know… rent, food. So she doesn’t have to worry about the basics while she’s searching. You know—she’s renting an apartment, expenses…”
Olga knew she was going to say yes. Not because she was soft. Maksim rarely asked for anything, and refusing to help his sister would feel… wrong. Family was family.
“Okay,” she nodded. “I’ll get her an extra card linked to my account and set a limit. But she needs to be upfront if she needs anything else—no half-truths.”
Maksim hugged her from behind.
“Thank you. Really. Lena will appreciate it, I know.”
Olga didn’t reply and went back to slicing the onion. But inside, an uneasy premonition scratched at her—one she chose to ignore.
The first month went fine. Olga set a limit that covered Lena’s small rented one-bedroom in a residential district, groceries, and transportation. Modest, but respectable.
Sometimes Lena wrote thank-you messages in the family chat. “Thank you so much, you’re saving me,” “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Maksim was pleased, Olga stayed calm. Everything was going according to plan.
And then came that evening at the Grand Palace.
Olga was meeting a colleague, discussing a new project over a glass of wine. The restaurant wasn’t cheap—the average bill was around three thousand per person. The kind of place for special occasions or business meetings.
And as Olga walked past a table by the panoramic window, she heard a familiar laugh. She turned almost reflexively. There was Lena—at a table crowded with plates of pasta, seafood, and a bottle of white wine. In a new dress. With three friends. They chatted and laughed, looking relaxed and happy.
Olga froze. Hesitated for a second—should she go over or not? Then decided she shouldn’t. She simply turned around and went back to her table.
“Everything okay?” her colleague asked.
“Yes,” Olga nodded. “Everything’s fine.”
But it wasn’t.
That evening she didn’t say anything to Maksim. Maybe the girls just needed a break. Maybe her friends paid. Or it was someone’s birthday. No need to jump to conclusions.
But the doubt had already been planted.
The next time Olga saw Lena was at a shopping mall. Saturday, midday. Olga was buying bed linen when she noticed a familiar figure near the exit of a clothing store. Lena—big bags in both hands—talking on the phone, looking pleased.
This time Olga went up to her.
“Lena?”
The girl flinched and turned around. Something like fear flickered across her face, but she quickly pulled herself together and smiled.
“Olya! Hi! What a coincidence!”
“Hi.” Olga nodded at the bags. “Shopping?”
“Oh—yeah, it’s…,” Lena hesitated. “There was a really good sale, I couldn’t resist. T-shirts for three hundred rubles, jeans basically for nothing.”
“I see,” Olga smiled tightly. “Well, good for you. Found a job yet?”
“Not yet,” Lena lowered her eyes. “But I’m actively looking, really. I’ve already been to a few interviews.”
“Glad to hear it. Good luck.”
They said goodbye, and Olga walked on, but something inside her tightened into a hard knot. A sale, she said. Sure, that store had sales. But the bags were stuffed, and Lena didn’t look like someone barely making ends meet.
That evening, while Maksim watched soccer, Olga sat down beside him.
“Max, I need to talk to you.”
“Now?” he asked without taking his eyes off the screen.
“Yes. About Lena.”
He looked over.
“What happened?”
“I saw her. Twice. First at a restaurant with friends, then at the mall with shopping bags.”
Maksim frowned.
“So what?”
“What do you mean, ‘so what’?” Olga tried to stay calm. “We’re giving her money for food and rent, and she’s eating at a restaurant that costs three thousand and buying brand-name clothes.”
“Olya,” Maksim sighed the way people sigh when explaining something obvious to a child. “Maybe her friends paid for her. You didn’t see who handed over the money. And as for the shopping—she told you it was a sale. Do you want her walking around in rags?”
“I want her not to lie.”
“She’s not lying!” Maksim raised his voice. “You’re just biased against her!”
“Me?” Something inside Olga snapped. “I agreed to help her, and you’re telling me I’m biased?”
“You immediately believed the worst! You didn’t ask, you didn’t clarify—you just accuse!”
Olga stood up.
“You know what, Max? Fine. Let it be your way.”
She went into the bedroom, closed the door, and sat on the bed. For the first time in all the years of their marriage, she felt that Maksim wasn’t on her side. That between her and his family, he would choose his family. Always.
The next day Olga called her mother-in-law. Galina Petrovna was a straightforward woman and usually fair. If anyone would tell the truth, it was her.
“Hello, Galina Petrovna. How are you?”
“Olya, hello, dear. Oh, you know—little by little. How are you?”
“Fine. Listen, I wanted to ask… does Lena come by often?”
A pause.
“Why do you ask?”
“Just curious.”
“Olya,” her mother-in-law’s voice grew serious. “Lena is living with me. It’s been three weeks now.”
Olga went still.
“Living with you? What do you mean living with you?”
“She moved in. Said you and Maksim refused to help her and she had to move out of her apartment. Of course I took her in—what else could I do? She’s my daughter.”
Something inside Olga turned to ice.
“Galina Petrovna, we didn’t refuse. I got her a card specifically so she could pay for whatever she needed.”
The silence on the line was deafening.
“You… what?” her mother-in-law finally forced out. “What card?”
“For food, rent, transportation. Maksim asked to help, I agreed.”
“Olenka,” Galina Petrovna’s voice trembled. “She hasn’t given me a single ruble. Not for groceries, not for utilities. She lives with me, eats with me, and never even offered to help. I thought she truly had no money!”
Olga closed her eyes. So that was it. Lena had moved in with her mother, stopped paying rent, cut her expenses to the bare minimum—and spent the money from the card Olga provided on restaurants, clothes, and entertainment.
“Thank you, Galina Petrovna. I… I’ll handle it.”
“Olya, wait. Don’t think I knew. I would never—”
“I know. Don’t worry. It’s not your fault.”
Olga hung up and sat for a long time, staring at one spot. Then she opened her banking app, found Lena’s card, and blocked it. Three taps. That was all.
“How dare you block my sister’s card?!” her husband shouted, standing in the middle of the living room.
Olga didn’t get up from the couch. She simply looked at him—at the man she’d lived with for ten years, had a child with, built a home with. And now he was yelling at her because of a girl who had been deceiving them.
“I won’t let anyone use me,” she said quietly, but clearly.
“What?” Maksim looked thrown off by that.
“Your sister lied to us. She’s living with your mother, paying for nothing, and spending the money on entertainment. I called Galina Petrovna. She confirmed it.”
Maksim opened his mouth, then closed it. Tried to speak, but no words came.
“You… you called Mom? You checked?”
“Of course I checked. Because you didn’t believe me. When I said I’d seen Lena at a restaurant and in a store, you immediately defended her. Not me. Her.”
“She’s my sister!”
“And who am I?” Olga finally stood, steel cutting into her voice. “I’m your wife. The mother of your son. The person who’s been supporting you for the last six months while you try to get your project off the ground. And instead of listening to me, you chose to believe a girl who was cynically profiting off us.”
Maksim went pale.
“What are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying,” Olga stepped toward him, “that if you keep defending people who use us, I’ll block more than just Lena’s card. I’ll block yours too.”
“You… you can’t—”
“I can. It’s my account. I earn that money. And I decide who gets it, and what it’s for.”
Maksim stood there, mouth slightly open, unable to respond. Olga watched pride, resentment, anger—and yes, she saw it—understanding fight in his eyes. Slow, painful understanding that she was right.
“Lena conned us,” Olga continued more calmly. “She lied to you, to me, and to your mother. She used our money for things it wasn’t meant for. And instead of admitting it, you came home and attacked me. Well, Max—I’m done playing these games.”
“I…” Maksim dragged a hand down his face. “I didn’t know.”
“You would have, if you’d listened to me from the start.”
He sat on the couch, head lowered. Olga stayed standing, looking down at him. She didn’t feel triumphant. Only tired.
“What do I do now?” Maksim asked quietly.
“Call your sister. Tell her the game is over. That she owes your mother an apology—and that she needs to actually look for work instead of pretending.”
“And if she—”
“If she refuses, that’s her choice. But we’re not participating in this circus anymore.”
Maksim nodded without lifting his head. Olga exhaled, went to the kitchen, and put the kettle on. Her hands trembled slightly—adrenaline from the confrontation hadn’t faded yet. But inside, she felt calm. For the first time in a long time.
That evening Maksim called Lena. Olga didn’t listen in—she just sat in the next room and caught fragments of the conversation.
“No, Lena, we’re not going to anymore… Because you lied… Yes, Mom told me… No, it’s not Olya’s fault, it’s yours… I don’t want to discuss this. The conversation is over.”
He ended the call and went to Olga. Sat across from her, silent for a long time.
“She said I’m a traitor,” he finally said. “That I chose my wife over my family.”
“I am your family,” Olga replied calmly. “Our son is your family. And Lena is an adult who has to take responsibility for her actions.”
Maksim nodded.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “For not believing you right away. For yelling.”
“I’ll accept your apology,” Olga took his hand. “But remember this feeling, Max. Remember what it’s like when the person who should be on your side suddenly ends up against you.”
He squeezed her fingers.
“I’ll remember.”
Two weeks passed. Lena never apologized—neither to Olga nor to her mother. But she did find a job, surprisingly quickly. It turned out that when the easy money disappears, motivation rises fast.
Galina Petrovna called and thanked Olga for opening her eyes.
“You know, Olenka, I always thought I was spoiling her. But I told myself it was normal—mother’s love. Turns out I just raised a consumer.”
“It’s never too late to change that,” Olga said.
One evening, lying in bed, Maksim wrapped his arms around her and said:
“Thanks for not letting me become a doormat.”
“I’ll always be on your side,” Olga answered. “But only if you’re on mine.”
He kissed her temple.
“I will. I promise.”
And Olga believed him. Because sometimes people need a lesson to understand what really matters. Maksim got his—and, it seemed, learned it.
And Lena’s card stayed blocked.
Forever.