Inna came home after a long workday. Sergey was sitting at the table, staring at his phone. His face was tight, his brows knit together. Something was clearly wrong.
“Hi,” Inna said, shrugging off her coat. “Why do you look like someone died?”
Sergey lifted his eyes and hesitated for a moment.
“Mom called,” he said, short and flat.
Inna walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Valentina Stepanovna called often—nothing unusual there. But Sergey’s tone made it obvious this time the conversation hadn’t been pleasant.
“What did she want?” Inna asked, pulling out a yogurt.
Sergey leaned back and rubbed his face with his hands.
“She’s got problems. Big ones.”
Inna closed the fridge and turned to him. When her mother-in-law had “problems,” it was never something small. Valentina Stepanovna didn’t do minor setbacks.
“What kind?” Inna sat down across from him and peeled the yogurt open.
Sergey sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
“She got scammed. Invested all her money into some crypto ‘opportunity.’ They promised crazy profits, quick returns. In the end, they took eight hundred thousand from her. And then she even took out a loan—one and a half million—to put in more. And now it’s all gone.”
Inna froze, spoon halfway to her mouth. Eight hundred thousand plus one and a half million. Two point three million. Dear God.
“Hold on,” she said slowly. “Your mom took out a loan for one and a half million rubles? By herself? At her age?”
“They promised huge profit,” Sergey looked away. “The scammers convinced her she had to add more immediately or she’d miss the chance. Mom believed them.”
Inna put the yogurt on the table and leaned back. Sergey clearly wasn’t finished. Valentina Stepanovna hadn’t called just to “share the news.”
“So what happens now?” Inna asked.
Sergey clenched his fists on the tabletop.
“The bank wants payments. Interest is stacking up every day. She can’t handle it—her pension is tiny. She’s asking for help.”
There it was. Inna pressed her lips together. Help—of course. Valentina Stepanovna had always been good at turning any disaster into her son’s responsibility.
“Sergey,” Inna started carefully, “your mother is a grown woman. She chose to put money into some shady scheme. She chose to take out that loan. That’s on her.”
Sergey jerked his head up, irritation flashing in his eyes.
“She’s my mother! I can’t just leave her buried in debt!”
“No one said leave her,” Inna shot back. “But you’re talking about paying off two million. Sergey, do you realize what you’re saying?”
“I do,” he snapped. “And I’ve already decided. I’m taking out a loan and covering her debt.”
Inna felt her insides turn cold. A loan—over two million. Hanging around their necks.
“Are you out of your mind?” Her voice came out louder than she meant. “We only just started saving for a down payment on an apartment! We have a plan! And you’re ready to wipe it out because we’re supposed to pay for someone else’s stupidity?”
Sergey jumped up so fast the chair screeched.
“Someone else’s stupidity?” he repeated. “That’s my mother! Don’t you understand? They’ll take her to court, debt collectors will come after her!”
“And?” Inna stood too. “Let her deal with it! She’s an adult who knowingly went in on a shady scheme. Why are we the ones who should pay for it?”
Sergey’s face flushed; his jaw tightened.
“Because I’m not abandoning my mother when she’s in trouble! Do you even understand what family is?”
“Family is when people talk to each other,” Inna said sharply. “Not when one person makes decisions for both. Were you ever going to ask my opinion, or did you already decide everything?”
Sergey turned away and walked to the window. The silence stretched out. Inna understood—he’d already decided. Without her. Like always, when Valentina Stepanovna was involved.
“I’m going to the bank tomorrow,” Sergey said at last, still facing the glass. “I’m applying for the loan. Mom can’t live with that kind of debt.”
Inna closed her eyes. Breathing suddenly felt heavier, but she couldn’t show weakness now.
“Fine,” she said quietly. “Do what you want. But understand this: it’s your decision, and the consequences will be yours.”
Sergey turned around, looking genuinely confused.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m saying I’m not taking part in paying off that loan,” Inna said clearly. “If you take it out, you’ll be the one paying it.”
Sergey scoffed and shook his head.
“We’re a family, Inna. Your money is our money.”
“No,” she said. “My money is my money. I’ve been saving it for our apartment. I’m not letting it disappear into your mother’s debts.”
Sergey stepped toward her, anger flickering in his eyes.
“So you think my mother is a stranger? Her problems don’t concern you?”
“Her problems are the result of her own foolishness,” Inna replied, steady as stone. “And yes—I’m not paying for it. I’m warning you now.”
The argument ended nowhere. Sergey stormed into the other room and slammed the door. Inna stayed in the kitchen, staring out the window. Lights glittered in the neighboring buildings. Something inside her tightened with dread. Nothing good was going to come from this.
Sergey kept his word. A week later, the loan was approved: two million five hundred thousand rubles at twenty percent annual interest. He didn’t even try to hide how pleased he was when he announced that his mother’s debt had been fully covered. Valentina Stepanovna called, cried into the phone, thanked him for “saving” her. She promised to repay every kopek as soon as she could.
Inna listened to those calls in silence. Arguing was pointless. Sergey had made his choice—now they would both have to deal with the fallout. Or maybe not. Inna had decided she wouldn’t take part in this madness.
The first month passed relatively calmly. Sergey made the payment from his salary. It was tight, but he managed. Inna kept working and continued putting her paycheck into a separate account. A tense quiet settled over their marriage. They barely spoke; in the evenings they lived parallel lives under the same roof.
Then, in the second month, everything fell apart. Sergey came home in the middle of the day, his face gray. Inna knew immediately something bad had happened.
“I got fired,” he said, dropping onto the couch. “Staff cuts. As of today, I’m unemployed.”
Inna froze. Fired. Sergey had been the chief accountant at a small company, and the salary had been decent—exactly what was supposed to cover that loan.
“Will you get severance?” Inna asked.
“Three months’ pay,” Sergey nodded. “That’ll cover three payments. After that… I don’t know.”
Inna sat down in the chair across from him. After that was the real question. Three months would pass in a blink. Sergey could be job-hunting for a long time. The bank wouldn’t care.
“You need to look for work immediately,” Inna said.
“I already started,” Sergey replied, pulling out his phone and tapping the screen. “Sent my resume to five companies. I’ll check listings every day.”
Weeks went by, and nothing happened. Sergey went to interviews, but each time he came home with another rejection. Either his experience didn’t match, or his salary expectations were “too high,” or they picked someone else. The severance shrank fast. Two months passed; the third began.
One evening Sergey returned from yet another interview. His face was dark, his eyes heavy. Inna was making dinner, chopping vegetables for a salad. Sergey came into the kitchen and stopped in the doorway.
“We need to talk,” he said.
Inna didn’t turn around. She kept slicing tomatoes.
“About what?”
“About money,” Sergey stepped closer. “The next payment is in a week. I’ve got nothing left. I can’t pay it.”
There it was. She’d been expecting this conversation. She knew it would come. Even so, something inside her tightened.
“So what are you suggesting?” Inna asked, still not turning.
“You have savings,” Sergey said quietly but insistently. “You were saving for the apartment. I know you’ve got more than a million. Inna, we have to use that money.”
Inna slowly set the knife down on the cutting board and turned to face him. Sergey stood with his hands clasped, looking straight into her eyes.
“No,” Inna said evenly.
Sergey blinked as if he hadn’t understood.
“What do you mean, no?”
“I’m not spending my savings on a loan you took without my consent,” Inna wiped her hands on a towel. “I warned you. It was your choice—your responsibility.”
Sergey stepped forward, desperation flashing across his face.
“Inna, you don’t get it! If we don’t pay, there will be penalties, late fees! Interest will shoot up! They’ll drag us to court!”
“Us?” Inna repeated. “Or you? Last I checked, the loan is in your name. I didn’t sign anything.”
Sergey went rigid, fists tightening.
“We’re family! Your money is our money!”
“When you took the loan, you didn’t think you needed to talk to me,” Inna shot back. “So no—this isn’t ‘our’ anything. It’s your loan. Your problem.”
Sergey spun around and paced the kitchen. His hands shook; his breathing sped up.
“I can’t believe this,” he muttered. “You’re really going to refuse me in a situation like this?”
“I’m refusing to pay for your mother’s stupidity,” Inna said clearly. “Valentina Stepanovna climbed into that mess herself. You decided to rescue her. But I wasn’t part of it, and I’m not going to be.”
Sergey turned, anger flaring in his eyes.
“So you don’t care about me? About our family?”
“I do care,” Inna said, folding her arms. “But I won’t let you drag me into a financial pit you dug with your own hands. I told you not to take the loan. You didn’t listen. Now you deal with it.”
Sergey grabbed his head and paced again.
“I don’t have money!” he shouted. “I lost my job! How am I supposed to pay?”
“That’s your problem,” Inna replied coldly. “Maybe ask Valentina Stepanovna to sell something. Or get another job. But you’re not getting my savings.”
Sergey stopped and stared at her. His face was red, veins standing out on his neck.
“You’re selfish,” he hissed. “A heartless selfish woman! I need your help, and you just turn away!”
Inna didn’t flinch. She looked him straight in the eyes.
“Call it what you want. My money stays in my account.”
For several days Sergey didn’t speak to her. He stalked around the apartment, gloomy and tight-lipped, avoiding her gaze. Inna kept living her life—working, cooking, doing chores. The tension grew heavier by the hour.
That weekend Sergey tried a new angle.
“Inna, I found a side job,” he said over breakfast. “I’ll deliver packages in the evenings. But it still won’t be enough for the full payment. I need your salary.”
Inna looked up from her coffee.
“My salary?”
“Yeah,” Sergey nodded. “I’ll earn money to live on, and you’ll cover the loan. That’s how we’ll get through it.”
Inna set her cup down. Her hands trembled, and she had to clasp them together to steady herself.
“Sergey… listen to what you’re saying. You want me to hand over my entire paycheck to cover a loan you took for your mother?”
“What’s the big deal?” he shrugged. “We’re family. We’re supposed to help each other.”
Inna exhaled slowly. That was it. Enough. She couldn’t swallow this anymore.
“So you took out a loan to help your mother, and now I’m supposed to pay it back?” Inna gave him a sharp, humorless smile. “Honey, are you sure you’re not confusing something?”
Sergey flinched, stepping back.
“And what’s wrong with that?”
“I’m not going to be a cash machine for your family,” Inna stood up. “Valentina Stepanovna got scammed—that’s her problem. You decided to play hero—that’s your problem. I’m not part of it.”
Sergey jumped up so hard his chair crashed to the floor.
“How can you say that?! I need your help!”
“Help?” Inna echoed. “You call it ‘help’ when you’re trying to take my whole paycheck? Sergey, that’s not help. That’s using me.”
“I’m not using you!” he shouted. “I’m trying to save the situation!”
“The situation you created,” Inna shot back. “I warned you. I told you not to take the loan. But you didn’t listen. You decided your mother mattered more. Fine—live with that decision.”
Sergey grabbed the fallen chair and slammed it back against the table. The dishes rattled.
“You’re ungrateful!” he yelled. “I’ve done so much for you, and you won’t help me with one tiny thing!”
“Tiny?” Inna laughed. “Two and a half million is ‘tiny’? Wake up, Sergey! You shoved us into a debt hole because of a mother who hasn’t even tried to pay back a single ruble!”
“She can’t!” Sergey pounded the table. “Her pension is small!”
“Then let her sell something!” Inna snapped. “Her dacha, for example. Or her car! But she won’t even consider helping you—she just sits and waits for you to fix everything!”
Sergey went still, staring at her.
“You want Mom to sell the dacha?”
“I want her to take responsibility for her choices,” Inna said firmly. “But Valentina Stepanovna is used to dumping her problems on you. And you’re used to dumping them on me. And you know what? That ends now. I’m not playing this game anymore.”
Sergey’s jaw clenched, fury flashing across his face.
“So you’re leaving me?”
“I’m not ‘leaving’ you,” Inna said calmly. “I’m just not letting you use me. There’s a difference.”
Sergey turned and walked to the window. He stood there in silence, staring out at the street. Inna watched his broad back, his rigid shoulders. Once, she had loved this man. Now she saw someone weak—someone who couldn’t stand up to his mother and couldn’t own his decisions.
“If you don’t help,” Sergey finally said without turning, “I won’t be able to pay the loan. There’ll be trouble. Court, collectors. Is that what you want?”
“Sergey,” Inna said wearily, “that’s not my trouble. You took the loan without my consent. You’re the borrower. It has nothing to do with me.”
He turned around, his face twisted with anger.
“You’re heartless! Completely heartless! How can you watch me drown and not reach out a hand?”
“I can’t save someone who jumped into the whirlpool on purpose,” Inna replied. “You made your choice. Now live with the consequences.”
Sergey walked toward her and stopped a couple of meters away.
“I’m demanding you help!” His voice trembled with rage. “Do you hear me? Demanding! You’re my wife—you’re obligated to support me!”
Inna looked at him for a long moment, then slowly shook her head.
“No, Sergey. I don’t owe you anything. Not in a mess you created yourself.”
Sergey froze, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d heard. Then he spun around and stormed into the room, slamming the door. Inna remained alone in the kitchen. She sat back down, finished her cold coffee. Something inside her snapped. That was it. She couldn’t live like this anymore.
The decision came quickly. Inna realized there was no point staying with a man who didn’t respect her boundaries and tried to use her for his own ends. Sergey wouldn’t change. Valentina Stepanovna would always come first. And the wife would remain a convenient source of money.
The next evening, Inna started packing. She pulled a suitcase out of the closet and neatly folded clothes into it. Sergey came into the room and stopped in the doorway.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Packing,” Inna answered without looking up.
“Where are you going?”
“Moving out,” she said, adding a few more things. “I can’t live here anymore.”
Sergey stepped into the room, his face going pale.
“You’re leaving? Seriously?”
“Completely,” Inna nodded. “I found an apartment. I’m moving tomorrow.”
He moved closer and reached out as if to stop her.
“Inna, wait. Let’s talk. We can work it out.”
Inna straightened and met his eyes.
“There’s nothing to talk about, Sergey. You chose your mother. I’m choosing myself.”
“But we’re family!” Panic crept into his voice. “You can’t just walk away!”
“Yes, I can,” Inna said. “And I am. You’ll pay for this rental yourself. With your side job, or you can ask Valentina Stepanovna to help. I don’t care.”
Sergey grabbed her wrist.
“Inna, please, don’t do this! I need your support!”
Inna pulled her hand free and stepped back.
“Support is something you ask for. You don’t demand it. You’re pressuring me. Forcing me. Trying to use me. That isn’t support, Sergey—that’s manipulation.”
He lowered his hands and took a step back.
“So that’s it? You’re just leaving me with debts?”
“I didn’t take the loan,” Inna reminded him. “I didn’t decide to ‘save’ your mother. Those are your debts—your responsibility. Deal with them.”
Sergey stood silent, staring at her as if emptied out. Inna kept packing. The silence stretched. Finally he turned and left the room. A moment later the front door slammed—he’d gone out, probably to cool off.
Inna finished the suitcase, gathered her documents, passport, bank cards—everything important—and put them in a bag. Tomorrow morning she’d call a taxi, move into her new place, and start over.
The move was quick. Sergey wasn’t home. Inna simply took her things and left. She put the keys on the table, closed the door, and that was that.
Her new apartment was small—one room, on the outskirts—but it was hers. No debt. No accusations. No demands that she hand over her entire salary to cover someone else’s loans.
A month later the divorce was finalized. Sergey didn’t fight it, didn’t demand a division of property. There wasn’t much to divide anyway: a rented apartment and a few possessions. The loan stayed with Sergey, the borrower. Inna’s name wasn’t on any document.
Inna returned to her normal routine. Work. Home. Meeting friends. Her savings stayed untouched, waiting. Maybe in a year or two she could add more and buy a small apartment—her own, for herself—without a husband who threw money into rescuing a reckless mother.
Sometimes Inna thought about Sergey. How was he managing? Had he found a decent job or was he still delivering packages at night? Was he paying the loan or had he already let it spiral? But the thoughts passed quickly. Not her business. Sergey had chosen his path.
One evening a mutual acquaintance, Larisa, called. They hadn’t spoken since the divorce, and the call surprised Inna.
“Hi, Inna,” Larisa sounded unsure. “How are you?”
“Fine,” Inna said. “You?”
“I’m okay. Listen… I ran into Sergey recently…” Larisa hesitated. “He’s in bad shape, honestly.”
Inna settled deeper into the couch. Interesting.
“Tell me,” she said.
“Well… he still hasn’t found a real job,” Larisa began. “He’s working delivery day and night, barely scraping by. He hasn’t paid the loan in three months, and the bank filed a lawsuit. He had to leave the rental and moved in with his mother.”
Inna let out a small, dry laugh. With his mother—of course. Valentina Stepanovna had finally taken in the son she’d dragged into a debt trap.
“And how are they living?” Inna asked.
“Not well,” Larisa sighed. “Valentina Stepanovna’s pension goes straight to utilities. Sergey pays for food and tries to chip away at the loan. But the debt is growing faster than they can pay. The bailiffs got involved—accounts are frozen.”
Inna listened, feeling a strange mix of relief and sadness. Relief that she’d left in time. Sadness that Sergey had wrecked his life so foolishly.
“Got it,” Inna said. “Thanks for telling me.”
“He asked about you,” Larisa added. “Wanted to know how you’re doing.”
“And what did you say?”
“I said I didn’t know. I didn’t want to get into it.”
“Good,” Inna replied. “My life is none of his business now.”
The call ended. Inna set her phone down and went to the kitchen. She made tea and sat by the window. Outside it was getting dark; lights came on in the neighbors’ apartments. Somewhere across town Sergey was trying to crawl out of the debt pit he’d jumped into himself. And Valentina Stepanovna probably still didn’t understand that it was her foolishness that had brought him there.
Inna took a sip of tea. Calm. Cozy. Here, no one demanded her last ruble. No one accused her of being coldhearted for wanting to protect her savings. No one tried to use her.
She opened her banking app and checked her balance. The savings grew each month. Another year or so, and she could start thinking about buying her own place. Small, but hers. No loans. No debts. No other people’s disasters.
Inna closed the app and finished her tea. Life was getting better—slowly but surely. The divorce hadn’t been an ending; it had been a beginning. The beginning of a quiet, steady life where decisions were hers to make, and money went toward her own needs, not to rescue grown adults from the consequences of their own stupidity.