Ksenia sat at the kitchen table, studying the statement on her bank card. Her vacation pay had finally come through—forty-eight thousand rubles. Money she had earned over a long year of work, overtime, and weekends spent at construction sites. She worked as a design engineer for a строительная company, and the past few months had been especially brutal.
She ran her finger across the phone screen, staring at the balance. She had earned that money herself. Fairly, painfully, sometimes to the point of exhaustion. And she already knew exactly what she wanted to do with it.
“Ksyusha, are you home?” Igor’s voice came from the hallway.
“In the kitchen,” she called back without lifting her eyes from the phone.
Her husband walked to the refrigerator, took out a bottle of water, drank several gulps, then turned toward her.
“Listen… Mom’s in trouble again. She needs money.”
Ksenia closed her eyes and let out a slow breath. Valentina Petrovna. Her mother-in-law. An endless source of financial disasters.
“How much this time?” she asked tiredly.
“Thirty-five thousand. She’s behind on a bank loan, and if she doesn’t pay now, the interest will go through the roof.”
“Igor, this is already the third time in six months.”
“What do you expect me to do?” He set the bottle on the table. “She’s my mother. We can’t just abandon her.”
For three years, Ksenia had been giving money to her mother-in-law to cover one endless debt after another. First it was a bank loan for renovations that were never actually done. Then a microloan for a new television, even though the old one worked perfectly fine. Then another installment plan for some household appliance that ended up gathering dust in the corner.
Valentina Petrovna had no idea how to handle money. She took out loans easily, without ever thinking about the consequences, and then came crying to her son for help. And every single time, Igor turned to Ksenia. And every single time, she agreed, because she loved her husband and wanted to avoid conflict.
Ksenia worked late just to keep everything afloat. She could barely remember the last time she bought herself anything new. Every item in her closet was old and worn. She never went to cafés, never took taxis, and at work she bought the cheapest meals the cafeteria had.
She and Igor rented a tiny one-room apartment. Ksenia dreamed of saving for a mortgage, doing a proper renovation one day, buying decent furniture. But every spare ruble disappeared into her mother-in-law’s debts.
“Igor, I have plans for that money too,” Ksenia said quietly.
“What plans?” he asked, frowning.
“I want to go away on vacation. A week in the mountains. I need a break.”
“A vacation?” Igor stared at her. “Ksyusha, you do understand this isn’t the right time, don’t you? Mom has problems.”
“Your mother always has problems.”
“She’s my mother! She raised me alone after my father left! I can’t turn my back on her!”
Ksenia said nothing. She had heard that speech a hundred times already. Yes, Valentina Petrovna had raised Igor by herself—but that didn’t excuse her total irresponsibility with money.
“Igor, I’ve been helping her for three years,” Ksenia said at last. “I’ve given her more than three hundred thousand rubles. Maybe that’s enough.”
“How can you even say that?” he snapped. “We’re family!”
“Then why does this whole family live for your mother instead of for each other?”
Igor waved his hand dismissively.
“You’re just tired. Stay home, rest, and give the money to Mom. We’ll save up for your vacation later.”
Then he walked out of the kitchen, leaving Ksenia alone with her thoughts.
The next day, Ksenia went to a travel agency. She had been dreaming for so long about a trip to the mountains—fresh air, silence, beautiful scenery. Her friend Lena had been inviting her to go for months.
“Excellent choice!” the travel agent said, showing her photos of the resort. “A week of accommodation, three meals a day, guided mountain excursions. Forty-two thousand per person.”
Ksenia looked at the pictures and felt something inside her begin to thaw. She was so tired. Tired of work. Tired of her mother-in-law’s constant demands. Tired of living in endless deprivation.
“I’ll take it,” she said firmly.
The manager printed out the tickets and documents. Ksenia tucked them into her bag and left the office feeling lighter than she had in years. For the first time in three years, she had done something only for herself.
At home, she carefully placed the tickets on the coffee table in the living room next to the papers for the resort booking. Igor was still at work and wouldn’t be home until evening. Humming softly to herself, Ksenia went into the kitchen to make dinner.
The doorbell rang around six.
When she opened the door, Valentina Petrovna was standing there with a sour expression on her face.
“Hello,” her mother-in-law said dryly, brushing past her and walking inside without waiting for an invitation.
“Good evening, Valentina Petrovna,” Ksenia said, closing the door.
Her mother-in-law went straight into the living room, tossed her coat over a chair, and sat down on the sofa. Her eyes immediately landed on the tickets lying on the table.
“What’s this?” she demanded, snatching them up and looking them over.
“My vacation tickets,” Ksenia answered calmly.
“Your vacation?!” Valentina Petrovna jumped to her feet. “We have loans hanging over our heads, and you’re planning a holiday?!”
Ksenia felt her fists clench.
“You have loans,” she said. “Not we. You.”
“How dare you talk back to me like that?” her mother-in-law shouted, waving the tickets in the air. “Igor told me everything! You got forty-eight thousand in vacation pay! You were supposed to help the family!”
“I have been helping for three years. Constantly.”
“So what?” Valentina Petrovna stepped closer. “You’re the daughter-in-law! It’s your duty to help! Sell your jewelry and give us the vacation money—help your family!”
Ksenia froze.
Her jewelry.
The gold chain from her grandmother. The earrings her mother had given her on her eighteenth birthday. The ring that was all she had left after her mother died. The last precious things she still had from the family she had lost.
“You want me to sell the memory of my family to pay off your debts?” Ksenia asked, her voice trembling.
“Oh, stop being sentimental. It’s just gold,” Valentina Petrovna said with a dismissive wave. “You sell it, you get money, you help us. Or does your husband’s family mean nothing to you?”
Something inside Ksenia snapped.
She looked at her mother-in-law and no longer saw a relative. She saw a bottomless pit—one that had been devouring her life, her money, and her strength for years.
“You’ve had me up to here!” Ksenia shouted. “Three years! For three years I’ve been giving you money! For your stupid loans, your pointless purchases, your whims!”
“How dare you—”
“I’m exhausted!” Ksenia cut her off. “I denied myself everything! I stopped buying clothes, stopped going out, lived on scraps just so you would always have enough! And you keep taking out more loans and demanding more!”
“I’m Igor’s mother!”
“So what?!” Ksenia moved to the door and yanked it open. “Does that give you the right to drain us dry? Get out of my house. Right now.”
Valentina Petrovna turned crimson.
“You’ll regret this! Igor will find out how you spoke to me!”
“Let him find out. Get out!”
Her mother-in-law grabbed her coat and stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door so hard the glass rattled.
Ksenia leaned against the door and covered her face with her hands. Her breathing was ragged. Her heart pounded wildly. She had just shouted at her mother-in-law. Igor would be furious.
He came home an hour later. The moment she heard the front door open and his heavy footsteps in the hallway, she knew Valentina Petrovna had already called him.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Igor burst into the room, his face red with anger. “You threw my mother out?”
“Yes,” Ksenia answered firmly.
“Have you lost your mind? She came to ask for help, and you screamed at her and kicked her out!”
“She demanded that I sell my mother’s jewelry!”
“So what?!” he shouted. “It’s just gold! Sell it, help us, and later you can buy new stuff!”
Ksenia looked at her husband and understood, with painful clarity, that he would never understand her. To him, only his mother mattered—her problems, her debts, her needs.
“Give me the vacation money,” he ordered. “Mom is waiting for it.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“They’re my money. I earned them. I’m going on vacation.”
“What vacation?!” Igor grabbed the tickets from the table. “Forty-two thousand? You spent that much when we have problems?”
“You have problems,” Ksenia said coldly. “You and your mother. I have a vacation.”
Igor hurled the tickets onto the floor.
“You’re canceling this trip right now. And you’re giving the money to Mom.”
“I’m not canceling it. And I’m not giving her anything.”
“You’re selfish!” he roared. “Cold, heartless, selfish!”
“For three years I thought only about you!” Ksenia shouted back. “For three years I sacrificed everything! I gave up new clothes, any kind of fun, any rest! I lived in constant deprivation just so your mother could keep paying off her endless debts!”
“She’s my mother!”
“And I’m your wife! But you don’t care about me! The only person who matters to you is her!”
Igor clenched his fists.
“If you don’t give her the money, I don’t know what’s going to happen to this marriage.”
“Fine,” Ksenia said, turning and walking into the bedroom.
“Where are you going?”
She pulled a large sports bag out of the closet and began stuffing things into it. Her hands were trembling, but she kept going. Jeans, sweaters, underwear, makeup bag.
“What are you doing?” Igor stood in the doorway staring at her.
“Packing.”
“For where?”
“To Lena’s. I’ll stay with her until after the trip. Then we’ll see.”
“You’re serious?”
Ksenia finally looked at him.
“Completely. I’m tired of being a cash cow for your mother. I’m tired of living in poverty and denying myself everything. I’m tired of the fact that no one cares what I feel or what I want.”
“Ksyusha…”
“Don’t,” she said, zipping up the bag. “For three years I tried to be a good daughter-in-law, a good wife. But no one values me. To you, I’m just a wallet.”
“That’s not true!”
“Then why are you demanding my money right now? Why didn’t you ask what I wanted? Why didn’t you stand up for me even once?”
Igor said nothing.
Ksenia picked up her bag and walked past him into the hallway. She put on her jacket, slipped on her shoes. Igor stood in the corridor watching her.
“You’ll regret this,” he said quietly.
“Maybe,” Ksenia replied, opening the door. “Or maybe you will.”
And she walked out without looking back.
Lena opened the door less than a minute after Ksenia rang.
One look at her face was enough.
“Come in,” Lena said, stepping aside.
Ksenia walked in, took off her jacket, and sat down on the couch. Only then did the tears come. She cried for a long time while Lena sat beside her in silence, gently rubbing her back.
When she finally calmed down, she told her everything. The three years of financial help to her mother-in-law. The demand to sell her jewelry. The fight with Igor.
“You did the right thing by leaving,” Lena said firmly. “That was the right decision.”
“But I’m his wife…”
“A wife, not an ATM,” Lena cut in. “Ksyusha, you earned that vacation. You earned the right to live for yourself. We’re going to the mountains like we planned. And to hell with all of them.”
Ksenia nodded. For the first time in three years, she felt that she had done the right thing.
Four days later, they left for the mountains. Ksenia kept her phone on silent—Igor called ten times a day, but she didn’t answer. She needed peace. She needed time alone with herself.
The resort turned out to be even more beautiful than in the photographs. Wooden cabins, the smell of pine trees, mountain peaks in the distance. Ksenia stepped out onto the veranda, drew in a deep breath of clean air, and felt something inside her finally begin to loosen.
The week flew by. She and Lena went on excursions, climbed mountain trails, sat by the fire in the evenings, drank tea, and talked about everything. Ksenia looked back on the last three years of her life and realized just how much of herself she had lost.
She had tried so hard to be convenient. She said yes to everything, gave up her own wishes, sacrificed herself again and again. And in return, all she got were fresh demands and endless complaints.
“Are you going back to him?” Lena asked on their last evening, when they were sitting on the veranda under the stars.
Ksenia was silent for a long time.
“No,” she said at last. “I realized I don’t want to live like that anymore. Igor will never stand by me. His mother will always come first. I don’t blame him for that—but I’m not willing to spend my life in second place.”
“It won’t be easy,” Lena warned.
“I know. But it wasn’t easy before either.”
As soon as they returned, Ksenia went straight to a lawyer. She got advice about divorce, found out which documents she needed, and learned what rights she had.
The apartment they had lived in was rented in Igor’s name. They had barely accumulated any shared property—some old furniture, dishes, basic appliances. There was really nothing to divide.
Ksenia texted Igor that she was filing for divorce. He tried to call her, but she didn’t pick up. Then a message came through:
“You’re destroying our family over money. Think again.”
She never replied.
At the same time, Ksenia started looking for a place to live. In the evenings she scrolled through listings, arranged viewings, and hoped to find a small one-room apartment where she could live alone—without pressure, without demands, without anyone draining her dry.
Two weeks later, she found one.
It was on the outskirts of the city. Thirty square meters, bright, with a decent renovation. Twenty thousand a month.
Ksenia paid the deposit, signed the lease, and moved in the very next day. Lena helped her bring over her things. There wasn’t much: two bags of clothes, a laptop, several boxes of books and personal belongings.
Ksenia stood in the middle of the empty room and looked out the window. The view wasn’t much—panel apartment blocks, a playground below. But it was hers. Her space. Her life.
She took a framed photograph out of one of the boxes. It showed her standing beside her mother, taken a year before her death. Ksenia placed it on the windowsill and whispered:
“Mom, I didn’t sell your jewelry. And I never will.”
The divorce was finalized a month later. She and Igor came to the registry office together, silently submitted the paperwork, silently signed the documents. They didn’t say a single word to each other.
When Ksenia walked out of the building, she felt a strange kind of relief. The heavy burden she had been dragging around for three years had finally fallen from her shoulders.
Life improved slowly, but steadily. Ksenia kept working, kept saving money. For the first time in a long while, she could afford a new jacket, a trip to the movies, a weekend getaway to a nearby town.
She no longer sacrificed herself to pay off someone else’s debts. She no longer counted every coin. She was learning how to live for herself.
One evening, Ksenia sat on her small couch, drinking tea and watching a film. Her phone lay beside her. A message from Lena lit up the screen:
“How are you?”
Ksenia smiled and typed back:
“I’m good. Truly good.”
And this time, it was the truth.
She lived alone now, in a modest rented apartment, without a husband and without a family around her. But she was free. Free from other people’s demands, from endless debts, from the crushing feeling that she owed everyone something.
Ksenia promised herself that she would never lose herself for the sake of others again. Never give up her dreams to satisfy someone else’s selfish wants.
She had earned the right to be happy.
And she would be.