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Shut up while I give you money,’ my husband smirked, not knowing that in the morning security wouldn’t let him into his office: I would be the one signing the termination order.

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“I told you, I’ll handle this myself,” my husband snapped, tossing his coat onto the chair. The smell of expensive cologne and the street rushed into the warm entryway. “Alexey, this isn’t just a ‘matter,’” I tried to keep my voice even. “You’ve blown the deal for the third time by insulting the realtor. My … Read more

My mother-in-law brought a “new wife” for her son into our home. But my husband came out, hugged me, and said a line that sent his mother running in tears.

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The door opened before I could make it to the hallway. On the threshold stood Tamara Pavlovna, my mother-in-law. And behind her, like a shadow, hid a slender girl with the frightened eyes of a fawn. “We’re here to see Dima,” my mother-in-law announced without a greeting as she walked into the apartment. She smelled … Read more

She was surprised to find the door at the dacha unlocked. She went in and immediately noticed that something was off—someone’s clothes lay on the veranda with the sleeves still inside out. On the table stood unwashed cups and a plate with leftover food.

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Anna froze on the threshold, and a cold steel plate of bewilderment seemed to stab beneath her rib. The door was ajar. Only by an inch or two, but even that upset the entire order of things. Her mother-in-law, Margarita Stepanovna—a woman of iron discipline and principle—forget to lock the dacha? Unthinkable. That simply didn’t … Read more

She was born, as people used to say, of “sinful love.” She came into this world to the whisper of condemnation and a heavy sigh of shame.

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She came into this world to the whisper of condemnation and the heavy sigh of shame. Her birth was no blessing—it was the fruit of what the remote villages with stone-hard faces called “sinful love.” Her mother, Vasilisa, was a local marvel, a beauty who drove all the nearby suitors mad. But her heart proved … Read more

Nastya was fired for her age, labeled “dead weight.” A month later, the entire department was hauled in to meet the new owner of the company—her…

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“Nastya, come in,” Igor Petrovich’s voice sounded routine, almost lazy. But Anastasia, who had learned to distinguish dozens of shades of his mood over twenty years at the company, understood at once—this wasn’t good. She stepped into his glass “aquarium,” feeling a dozen and a half people behind her freeze and prick up their ears. … Read more

my husband’s relatives whispered behind my back. But they didn’t know that yesterday I had won millions…

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“Don’t wear that dress again, Anechka. It makes you look cheap.” My mother-in-law, Tamara Pavlovna, said it in a deceptively soft voice—like a cashmere scarf that’s been moth-eaten. She tossed the line over her shoulder as she passed me in the hallway without even turning her head. I froze in front of the mirror. A … Read more

Where are you going again? My mom’s supposed to come!” — my husband just couldn’t understand why I was doing this. And then I explained everything to my mother-in-law.

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It all started with little things. But really, is it ever any different? Big problems grow out of small pinpricks that at first seem insignificant. The first time Lidiya Petrovna came to see us was a month after the wedding. I was happy—at last I’d get to know my mother-in-law better! Before that, we’d only … Read more

— We’ve come to you for vacation!” — relatives with suitcases showed up at the dacha uninvited

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Lyudmila Sergeyevna was carefully arranging porcelain cups on the shelf when she heard the familiar rumble of an engine in the yard. Her heart skipped a beat—the sound took her back to childhood, when her father would arrive in his old Volga. Now her brother Viktor drove one just like it. “Tolya!” she called to … Read more

— So, looking like that, someone actually wanted you?” — my ex-husband didn’t believe in my happiness

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Larisa Pavlovna stood before the mirror in the entryway, adjusting the collar of her snow-white blouse. Behind her came her husband’s familiar voice: — You’ve put on those shows of yours again? Lara, how much longer! Twenty years of the same thing—kitchen, TV, kitchen, TV. She didn’t turn around. On the screen, a French pastry … Read more

Seven long years had passed since the earth swallowed Lidia’s body. Seven years of silence that rang in his ears louder than any music, and of loneliness that seeped into the walls of the house like the smell of stove smoke

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Seven long years had passed since the earth swallowed the coffin with Lydia’s body. Seven years of silence that rang in his ears louder than any music, and of loneliness that soaked into the house’s walls like the smell of stove smoke. Stepan—everyone called him Stepanych—was left alone at sixty-three. Not old, but no longer … Read more