Alyona came home and once again found the sink overflowing with dirty dishes.
Was she really the only person in the apartment capable of washing them?
With a tired sigh, she turned on the water and began cleaning the plates, thinking about how much her life had changed.
Only six months earlier, she had still been living with her parents. Life had seemed easy then. She loved her husband, Dima, and she was happy to be married to him, but one thing had gone wrong almost immediately: after the wedding, they had moved into his mother’s apartment.
Alyona had wanted them to rent their own place. She had tried to convince Dima several times, but he insisted they should save money for a mortgage down payment instead.
“Just be patient for another year,” he kept telling her. “Once we have enough for the down payment, we’ll move straight into our own apartment.”
The plan sounded reasonable. Living with his mother did not.
Before the wedding, Maria Semyonovna had always treated Alyona warmly. But once Alyona officially became her daughter-in-law, everything gradually changed.
The soup was wrong. The floors were washed incorrectly. Dima’s shirt had not been ironed. It was as though Dima had no hands of his own.
Maria Semyonovna worked at an old-fashioned hairdresser’s shop. She was fifty, attractive, well groomed, and careful about her appearance. She regularly colored her hair, had her nails done, and dressed tastefully. But lately, at home, she seemed permanently irritated.
Alyona worked as a rhythmic gymnastics coach at a children’s sports school. She had recently taken on a new group and also gave individual lessons several times a week. She often came home exhausted and had no desire to begin a second shift of cooking and cleaning.
Even weekends were miserable.
Every Saturday morning, Maria Semyonovna launched an unnecessary full-scale cleaning operation, despite the apartment already being clean.
“Dima, when is this going to stop?” Alyona once asked. “Can’t we sleep late even once a week?”
Dima was irritated too, but confronting his mother always caused another argument. She would accuse them of living at her expense and refusing to help.
That evening, while Alyona was still washing dishes, Maria Semyonovna appeared behind her.
“Why are you so late today?” she demanded.
“I was working.”
“Have you seen the time?”
“My schedule isn’t always regular. You know that.”
“Maybe you weren’t working at all.”
Alyona slowly turned around.
“Maria Semyonovna, don’t you think that’s going too far?”
“Whether it’s going too far or not, time will tell.”
Something inside Alyona finally snapped.
“Dima!” she shouted. “Your mother is insulting me!”
Dmitry rushed into the kitchen.
“What happened?”
“Your mother is suggesting I’m cheating on you instead of working late. Please explain to her that I love you, but I’m still allowed to have a job. Serfdom was abolished a long time ago.”
Maria Semyonovna snorted and left the kitchen.
Dima looked after her, then turned to his wife.
“What exactly did she say?”
Alyona explained.
“Today she implies I’m cheating. Tomorrow she’ll say our future children aren’t yours.”
“Wait. Are you pregnant?”
“No! But someday we’ll have children.”
Dima sighed.
“Do you two have to argue constantly?”
“I’m not the one starting these arguments. I came home tired, found a mountain of dishes, said nothing, and started washing them. By the way, couldn’t you have washed them?”
“Sweetheart, I was tired.”
“And I’m not? You came home two hours earlier than I did.”
Dima looked guilty.
“Want me to finish?”
“No. But you can make me tea. And you can stay here and protect me in case your mother returns.”
Then Alyona smiled.
“And maybe we need a dishwashing schedule.”
From the living room Maria Semyonovna immediately shouted:
“What schedule? There are two women in this house and my son is supposed to wash dishes?”
She stormed back into the kitchen.
Alyona stared at her.
“Well, apparently there’s only one woman willing to wash them. We can leave you off the schedule. It can just be Dima and me.”
“You dare reproach me? You live in my apartment!”
“There we go again,” Alyona muttered.
A new argument began.
Eventually Alyona stopped participating and quietly finished the dishes. She could not understand why her mother-in-law had changed so dramatically.
Suddenly another thought occurred to her.
“Maria Semyonovna,” she said carefully. “Are you feeling all right? When did you last see your endocrinologist?”
The older woman froze.
She had once mentioned thyroid problems. Her usual doctor had moved away, and finding another specialist in their town was difficult.
“We don’t have an endocrinologist anymore,” she complained.
“What about a private clinic? I have a coupon for a free first consultation.”
“And do you know how expensive the tests are?”
“We’ll pay for them.”
Maria Semyonovna hesitated.
“I can pay for my own tests. But give me the coupon.”
Alyona fetched it from her handbag.
“My friend Katya works there. She says they have a very good doctor. Please go. Maybe all this stress really is affecting you.”
Later, Dima went to buy valerian because his mother had run out.
While he was gone, Alyona tried once more to speak calmly.
“Maria Semyonovna, can you please tell me what is wrong? Ever since I moved in, you’ve been different. If you don’t like me as Dima’s wife, just tell me. I’m tired of hints and hostility.”
“You’re a perfectly good wife,” Maria Semyonovna said unexpectedly.
Then she walked away.
That answer only confused Alyona more.
The next day, Maria Semyonovna visited the private clinic.
To her surprise, the endocrinologist turned out to be Vita Markovna, an old school friend she had not seen in decades.
“Masha?” Vita exclaimed. “Is that really you?”
They immediately began talking like old friends.
Maria explained that she had experienced thyroid problems years earlier and still underwent regular tests.
Eventually the conversation turned to family.
“I have a son,” Maria said proudly. “He just turned thirty. He got married.”
Then her expression changed.
Vita noticed.
“Bad daughter-in-law?”
“No. She’s actually wonderful. It’s just…”
Vita leaned back.
“Masha, we used to be close. Tell me what’s really bothering you.”
Maria hesitated.
“My son brought his wife to live with me.”
“You wanted them to live separately?”
“I’ve dreamed about it for years!” Maria admitted. “I imagined finally having the apartment to myself. Walking around in a T-shirt or nightgown. Doing whatever I wanted. And instead, after he married, there were even more people in the house.”
Vita narrowed her eyes.
“Are you deliberately trying to make them move out?”
Maria gave an embarrassed little laugh.
“Maybe a little.”
“Why not simply tell your son?”
“How can I throw my only child out?”
“He’s thirty, Masha. He’s not a child.”
Maria sighed.
“I know. Alyona doesn’t like living together either. I keep hoping she’ll convince him to rent an apartment.”
“So you’ve been provoking her?”
Maria looked ashamed.
“I’m turning into one of those crazy mothers-in-law. Yesterday I said something terrible to her. If I continue like this, they might stop letting me see my future grandchildren.”
Vita studied her.
“And that’s not the whole story, is it?”
Maria blinked.
“What do you mean?”
“What’s his name?”
Maria smiled despite herself.
“Saveliy.”
“How long?”
“Almost a year.”
“And your son doesn’t know?”
“Of course not. Dima thinks I’m an old woman already. He’ll think his mother has lost her mind.”
Vita laughed.
“Nonsense. Tell him the truth. You have your own life and your own relationship.”
Saveliy had divorced two years earlier, leaving most of his property to his former wife and children. He rented his own apartment.
Maria admitted she had even saved money to help Dima with a mortgage, but he had always refused because he did not want to take money from his mother.
Vita shook her head.
“So he refuses your money but happily lives in your apartment?”
Maria laughed.
After the appointment, she felt lighter than she had in months.
She met Saveliy in a café.
He stood when she arrived, pulled out her chair, and kissed her cheek. In public they behaved more like old friends because Maria had been afraid of people discovering their relationship.
“How did the doctor’s appointment go?” he asked.
“Fine. And you’ll never believe it—the doctor was an old school friend.”
Maria told him about Vita’s advice.
“Maybe I really should talk to Dima.”
“You should have done that months ago,” Saveliy said.
Then he suggested she simply introduce him to her family.
Maria was not ready.
“If the children move out, I want to live alone for a while,” she explained. “We’ll still see each other, but I don’t want us to move in together immediately. I’ve dreamed of having some freedom for so long.”
“I understand.”
Maria smiled.
“Then where are my flowers?”
Saveliy laughed. She herself had forbidden him to bring her flowers because she did not want to explain to her son where they came from.
Later he drove her home.
For the first time, Maria seriously decided that the secrecy had to end.
She cooked a large dinner—pork with vegetables, baked potatoes, and Dima’s favorite chocolate cake. She wanted everyone to sit down together and talk.
Meanwhile, Alyona made an unexpected discovery.
During a break at work, she was looking through a group chat used by her older gymnastics students. One girl had posted a photograph from a café.
And in the background stood Maria Semyonovna.
She looked radiant.
Beside her was an impressive-looking man holding her hand.
Alyona stared at the photograph.
“So that’s what this is about.”
That evening, she invited Dima to meet her for coffee before going home.
They went to a café they had often visited while dating.
After ordering, Alyona carefully began the conversation.
“Dima, I know you don’t want to move yet, but I really think we should discuss it again.”
“Because of yesterday?”
“I think your mother simply doesn’t want us living with her.”
“She would tell me.”
“Would she? Maybe she’s embarrassed. Or maybe she loves you too much to say it directly.”
Dima frowned.
“If we rent a place, saving for the mortgage will take much longer.”
“So what? I can take more lessons. You’ll get your bonus. We’ll manage. Your mother has already done a lot for you. Let her have her own life.”
Then Alyona casually added:
“She’s still young. Maybe she’ll meet someone.”
Dima looked genuinely shocked.
“A man?”
“Why not? Your mother is an attractive woman.”
“Wait. You know something.”
Alyona smiled.
When they finally went home, Maria was already waiting with dinner.
The truth came out quickly.
Maria confessed that she wanted privacy and that she had been deliberately making life uncomfortable because she lacked the courage to ask them to leave.
Then she admitted there was someone in her life.
Dima was stunned, but not angry.
In fact, after the surprise passed, he began laughing at how absurd the entire situation had become.
Maria then brought out the money she had been secretly saving.
The jar contained 328,000 rubles.
With the savings Dima and Alyona already had, it was enough for a strong mortgage down payment. In their town, they could find a decent two-room apartment for around two and a half million.
“Mom, we’ll pay you back,” Dima said.
“You don’t have to. I was saving it for you anyway.”
Alyona smiled.
“Thank you. Really.”
Maria looked embarrassed.
“I hope we can stop fighting. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth from the beginning.”
“You don’t need to apologize,” Alyona replied. “I’ve been trying to convince Dima to move out for ages.”
Dima grinned.
“Then I guess there’s no point renting now. Mom, can you tolerate us a little longer while we arrange the mortgage?”
“I can,” Maria answered sincerely.
Strangely, the moment she knew they would soon leave, the irritation disappeared. Their presence no longer bothered her nearly as much.
That very evening, Dima and Alyona began searching property listings.
They found three promising apartments and arranged viewings. The first two were disappointing, but the third immediately felt right.
The paperwork took about a month.
Finally, they moved.
They did not own much furniture or household equipment, but buying dishes, kitchen supplies, and other necessities for their own home felt exciting instead of exhausting.
A week later, they invited Maria and Saveliy to their housewarming.
Maria was visibly nervous about introducing them.
“Good afternoon,” Saveliy said as he stepped inside.
“Welcome,” Alyona replied warmly. “I’m Alyona, and this is my husband, Dmitry.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Saveliy, but call me Sava. We’re all adults here.”
The evening went surprisingly well.
They ate, talked, laughed, and by the end of the night the awkwardness had almost disappeared.
After Maria and Saveliy left, Dima looked thoughtful.
“Mom seems different with him.”
“Happy?” Alyona suggested.
“Yes. Much happier.”
Two months later, Maria invited them to her birthday celebration.
By then, Saveliy had already been living with her for two weeks.
Maria had originally imagined enjoying months of complete solitude, but after a little more than a month she realized she wanted something else. She simply asked Saveliy to move in.
He arrived with his belongings—and finally, a bouquet of flowers.
They were not planning to marry, at least not yet. Living together was enough.
On Maria’s birthday, Alyona helped her in the kitchen while Dima and Saveliy prepared the table.
“You cooked enough food for an army,” Alyona joked.
“I know. I couldn’t stop myself.”
Maria became quiet.
“Alyona, I’ve wanted to tell you something for a long time. Please forgive me for what I said that night—about you coming home late and everything else. I don’t even know what came over me. I never wanted to hurt you. I really do like you, and I think Dima is very lucky to have you.”
Alyona smiled.
“It’s all right. I barely remember it anymore. Forget it too. Let’s just agree not to fight again.”
“We don’t have anything to fight about anymore.”
“Even if we do, we won’t.”
Maria hesitated.
“Dima really isn’t against Sava?”
“He’s absolutely fine with it. We’re both happy for you.”
The doorbell rang.
Alyona glanced toward the hallway.
“More guests?”
“Yes. Vita Markovna and her husband.”
“The doctor from the clinic?”
“The very same.”
Since their unexpected reunion, Maria and Vita had become close again. They went for walks, shopped together, and eventually started spending time as couples.
Soon the apartment was filled with flowers, food, conversation, and laughter.
Alyona and Dima stayed for a couple of hours before leaving the older friends to enjoy the rest of the evening together.
Later, while preparing more sandwiches in the kitchen, Vita smiled at Maria.
“I’m glad everything worked out.”
Maria smiled back.
“You have no idea how glad I am.”
Then she laughed.
“Two women running one household may sound useful, but I’ve learned something important.”
“What?”
“One woman is definitely better.
