“Now I’m the one in charge in your home! What I say goes!” declared the mother-in-law.
New Year’s was supposed to be the first holiday in the Ivanovs’ apartment, which the couple had bought just a few months earlier. Lena and Dima had vividly imagined their first truly family celebration: a Christmas tree they would decorate together while watching old movies, sparkling wine on the balcony at midnight under the bright flashes of fireworks, and the peaceful feeling that they finally had a nest of their own where no one would dare disturb their peace. All of those dreams were shattered in an instant when the mother-in-law called and announced her decision, not asking for permission, but simply informing them of it:
“My dears, I can’t leave you alone on such a holiday!” her voice on the phone sounded sugary sweet and at the same time unyielding. “I’ve already invited Aunt Lyuda, Uncle Vitya with his family, and cousin Olya. We’re celebrating New Year together! I’ll take care of everything.”
The woman had not lied when she said she would take care of everything. Instead of the modest tree the couple had originally planned to put up so it would not take up too much space in the living room, she insisted on installing a two-meter fluffy fir tree, brought glass ornaments, and decorated it exactly the way she wanted. The mother-in-law behaved as if she were the one who had bought the new apartment. She ordered her son and daughter-in-law around like a real general barking commands on a battlefield.
Lena knew that her mother-in-law had a forceful character. Once, they had lived next door to each other. Back then, Lena’s mother used to tell her that she truly pitied the woman who would one day marry Dima. Lena had laughed, never imagining that she herself would become that woman. She had not noticed how her feelings appeared, how friendly meetings and moonlit conversations turned into something more. At some point, Lena and Dima simply realized that they did not want to be apart and could not imagine life without each other. At the time, her mother had begged her daughter to think it over several times, hinting that the mother-in-law would never let her live in peace and would try to bend her to her will.
“Mom, I’m marrying her son, and I’ll be living with him, not with her. Sooner or later she’ll understand that she won’t be able to boss me around, that we have our own family. Why should I give up love because of fears and assumptions?”
Deep down, Lena worried, but she tried to trust her husband. Dima was very close to his mother, respected her, and listened to her opinions, but he had promised that he would protect his wife and never let anyone hurt her. Yet now, as his mother took over their apartment and did everything as she pleased, Lena no longer felt protected. She felt like a ghost in her own home. Whenever she suggested something, she got nothing but disapproving looks in return, because “mother knows best.”
In the end, preparing for New Year turned into a nightmare. Lena had to help her mother-in-law so as not to offend her by accident. Dima only looked at his wife with regret, apologized that everything had gone off-plan, and asked her not to be upset with his mother, who supposedly only wanted what was best. Lena nodded at her husband and tried to do just that—not pay attention—but she could not.
“These napkins of yours are so tasteless. Take them off the table. I already bought different ones!” the mother-in-law grumbled while they were setting the table.
Soon the guests arrived. They made themselves comfortable everywhere, showing no embarrassment whatsoever about being in someone else’s home, behaving far too freely. Talking loudly over one another, the guests kept emphasizing how lucky Lena was to have married so well. They said that men like Dima were hard to find, and what a wonderful mother-in-law he had—one you should practically pray for.
“Lena got lucky with everything! And her husband is always being looked after. His mother will never leave him, she’ll always protect the young couple’s family happiness,” Uncle Vitya said.
“You’re praising me too much,” the mother-in-law smiled. “What mother would let her son feel lonely? Of course I couldn’t do that. My Dimochka will never be miserable. I’ll make sure of it.”
Dmitry poured drinks for his relatives, tried to joke, and avoided meeting Lena’s eyes. He felt his wife’s discontent and wanted somehow to justify himself, but he was torn between two fires: on one side was his mother, who absolutely could not be offended, and on the other was his wife. His wife would surely understand, but his mother would be offended for a long time—that was how Dmitry saw it.
Lena tried to pretend that she was happy along with everyone else. She let go of her dreams of a calm, quiet holiday, thinking that if this was more comfortable for her husband, she would somehow manage. But when she brought to the table her signature holiday dish—roast duck with apples—the worst part began.
“Oh, what is this?” the mother-in-law exclaimed loudly for the whole apartment to hear, blocking Lena’s path to the table. “No, no, my dear. Duck is too fatty, and Uncle Vitya has a bad liver. Besides, the table is already groaning with food, and this hot dish doesn’t smell very pleasant. If only you’d told me right away what you were planning to cook, I could have saved you the trouble and wasted effort!”
The woman took the dish from Lena’s hands and set it down on a far counter as though it were something unnecessary.
For a second, an awkward silence hung in the room. Everyone looked at Lena with pitiful curiosity. In that moment, every emotion she felt at such contempt must have been written plainly across her face.
The mother-in-law did not feel awkward in the slightest. She looked around at everyone present and smiled.
“Don’t be offended. She’s still young and inexperienced, but I’ll quickly teach her how to live properly, how to receive guests, and how to take care of her husband. Lenochka, since you married my son, you must understand that now you have to adapt to him—and to me, of course. Now I am the one in charge in your home! What I say goes!”
Those words, spoken like a sentence, hung in the air. The mother-in-law smiled triumphantly, celebrating her victory. Lena saw Aunt Lyuda’s face darken, while Uncle Vitya lowered his eyes—after all, at least someone in that family still felt shame. Lena was seized by an icy emptiness. She looked at her husband. Dmitry sat hunched over, peeling a tangerine with such fury as though his life depended on it.
Something clicked in Lena’s mind, and she felt strangely calm. It was not anger. No. It was pity. For him. For a grown man who, in his own home, was afraid to say a word against his own mother. Quietly rising from the table, Lena forced a smile full of pain and walked away. There was no place for her at a celebration where her mother-in-law was the mistress of the house. Lena knew that if she stayed any longer, a scandal would be unavoidable. She did not want to make a scene, but she also understood that this could not go on for the rest of her life. She and her husband had bought the apartment so they would not have to depend on anyone, so they could live peacefully—not like this…
Shutting herself in the bedroom, she sat down on the edge of the bed and crossed her arms over her chest. So this was how they had celebrated New Year. It was nothing like the holiday she had imagined, but there was nothing she could change now.
“Len, maybe you’ll come back? It feels empty without you,” her husband said, peeking into the room.
“I haven’t noticed that anything changed…” she replied, shaking her head.
Happy laughter drifted in from the living room, the guests interrupting one another as they told stories. No one had noticed her disappearance. No one cared.
“I’m lonely without you…”
“I’m sorry, but if everything is going to be the way your mother said, then you’ll have to get used to it. I will not tolerate being treated like this. We’d be better off getting divorced,” Lena said sharply…
To be continued just below in the first comment.
New Year was supposed to be the Ivanovs’ first holiday in the apartment they had bought a few months earlier. Lena and Dima had vividly imagined their first truly family celebration: decorating the Christmas tree together while old movies played in the background, sipping sparkling wine on the balcony at midnight under the bright bursts of fireworks, and feeling peaceful at the thought that they finally had a little nest of their own where no one would dare disturb their peace. All those dreams were shattered in an instant when Dima’s mother called and announced her decision, not asking for permission, but simply informing them of it as a fact.
“My dears, I can’t leave you alone on such a holiday!” her voice on the phone sounded sweet and at the same time unyielding. “I’ve already invited Aunt Lyuda, Uncle Vitya with his family, my cousin Olya. We’re celebrating New Year together! I’ll take care of everything.”
The woman had not lied when she said she would take care of everything. Instead of the modest tree the couple had originally planned to put up so it would not take too much space in the living room, she made them install a two-meter fluffy fir tree, brought glass ornaments, and decorated it exactly the way she wanted. Dima’s mother behaved as if she were the one who had bought the new apartment. She ordered her son and daughter-in-law around like a real general giving commands on a battlefield.
Lena knew that her mother-in-law had a forceful personality. They had once lived next door to each other. Back then, Lena’s own mother used to tell her she felt sorry for the woman who would one day marry Dima. Lena had laughed, never imagining that woman would turn out to be her. She had not even noticed when feelings had appeared, when friendly meetings and moonlit conversations had grown into something more. At some point Lena and Dima had simply realized that they did not want to be apart, that they could not imagine life without each other. At the time, Lena’s mother had begged her daughter to think carefully, hinting that her mother-in-law would never let her live in peace and would try to bend her to her will.
“Mom, I’m marrying her son, and I’ll be living with him, not with her. Sooner or later she’ll understand that she won’t be able to boss me around, that we have our own family. Why should I give up love because of fears and assumptions?”
Deep down, Lena had worried, but she tried to trust her husband. Dima was very close to his mother, respected her, and listened to her opinion, but he had promised that he would take care of his wife and never let anyone hurt her.
But now, as her mother-in-law bustled around their apartment and did everything her own way, Lena felt no sense of safety. She felt like a bodiless ghost in her own home. If she suggested anything, she was met only with disapproving looks, because “mother knows best.”
In the end, preparing for New Year turned into a nightmare. Lena had to help her mother-in-law so as not to offend her by accident. Dima only looked at his wife apologetically, saying he was sorry things had not gone according to plan, asking her not to be upset with his mother, who, supposedly, only wanted what was best. Lena nodded and tried not to pay attention, but she could not.
“Those napkins of yours are so tasteless. Take them off the table. I already bought others!” her mother-in-law grumbled while they were setting the table.
Soon the guests arrived. They settled in everywhere, not the least bit embarrassed to be in someone else’s home, acting far too relaxed. Talking loudly among themselves, they kept pointing out how lucky Lena had been to marry so well. They said it was hard to find a man like their Dima, and what a wonderful mother-in-law she had, one she should practically pray for.
“Lena got lucky in every way! And her husband is always under supervision. His mother will never abandon him, she’ll always protect the young couple’s family happiness,” said Uncle Vitya.
“You’re flattering me too much,” her mother-in-law smiled. “What kind of mother would leave her son to feel lonely? Of course I couldn’t do that. My Dimochka will never have to pine away. I’ll make sure of that.”
Dmitry poured drinks for his relatives, tried to joke, and avoided meeting Lena’s eyes. He felt his wife’s displeasure, wanted somehow to justify himself, but he was torn between two fires: on one side his mother, whom he absolutely could not offend, and on the other side his wife. His wife would surely understand, but his mother would definitely stay offended for a long time, Dmitry thought.
Lena tried to pretend she was happy along with everyone else. She let go of her dream of a quiet, peaceful holiday, thinking that if this made her husband more comfortable, then she would somehow manage. But when she brought to the table her signature dish for the праздничный table—roast duck with apples—the worst part began.
“Oh, what is this?” her mother-in-law cried out loudly enough for the whole apartment to hear, blocking Lena’s path to the table. “No, no, dear. Duck is too fatty, and Uncle Vitya has a bad liver. Besides, the table is already overflowing, and this hot dish doesn’t smell very pleasant. If you had told me beforehand that you were planning to cook, I would have saved you the wasted effort!”
The woman took the dish from Lena’s hands and set it on the far counter as though it were something useless.
An awkward silence hung in the room for a second. Everyone looked at Lena with pitying curiosity. At that moment, every emotion the woman was feeling from such contempt must have been written plainly across her face.
Her mother-in-law felt no awkwardness at all. She looked around at everyone present and smiled.
“Don’t be offended. She’s still young and inexperienced, but I’ll quickly teach her how to live properly, how to receive guests, and how to take care of her husband. Lenochka, since you married my son, you must understand that now you have to adapt to him and, of course, to me as well. Now I am the one in charge in your home! Whatever I say goes!”
Those words, sounding like a sentence, hung in the air. Her mother-in-law smiled triumphantly, celebrating her victory. Lena saw Aunt Lyuda’s face darken, while Uncle Vitya lowered his eyes. At least someone in that family still felt shame. A soul-freezing emptiness washed over Lena. She looked at her husband. Dmitry sat hunched over, peeling a tangerine so furiously as though his life depended on it.
Something clicked in Lena’s mind, and she suddenly felt something strange. It was not anger, no. It was pity. For him. For a grown man who, in his own home, was afraid to say a word against his own mother. Quietly getting up from the table, Lena forced a smile full of pain and left. There was no place for her at a celebration where her mother-in-law was the mistress. Lena knew that if she stayed any longer, a scandal would be unavoidable. She did not want to make a scene, but she also realized that this could not go on for the rest of her life. She and her husband had bought the apartment so they could depend on no one, live peacefully, not like this…
Locking herself in the bedroom, she sat down on the edge of the bed and crossed her arms over her chest. So this was how they had celebrated New Year. It was nothing like she had imagined, but now she could change nothing.
“Lena, maybe you’ll come back? It feels empty without you,” her husband said, peeking into the room.
“I didn’t notice anything had changed…” she muttered, shaking her head.
Joyful laughter drifted in from the living room, guests talking over one another, telling stories. No one had even noticed that she was gone; no one cared.
“I’m lonely without you…”
“I’m sorry, but if everything is going to be the way your mother said, then you’ll have to get used to it. I will not tolerate being treated like this. We’d be better off getting divorced,” Lena said sharply.
Dmitry nodded, unable to say a word, turned around, and walked out. The hollow sound of his footsteps in the hallway reached Lena, and she clenched her hands into fists, fighting the pain surging inside her. She had not wanted to say those words, but she really was ready to end the relationship if marriage to Dmitry meant a constant struggle with his mother.
The hum of voices in the living room suddenly stopped. Then came her mother-in-law’s sweet, preachy voice:
“Dimochka, don’t leave the guests. Your little wife is probably just a bit offended, it will pass. Sooner or later she had to understand that things will be no different in our family. I raised you, and only I can be the head of your family.”
“No, Mom! You’re wrong!” Dmitry said firmly, for the first time looking at his mother in a different way.
“What is it, son? How am I wrong? Did I say anything untrue? Everyone here is a witness: I didn’t allow myself anything improper. I merely stated a fact.”
“No! You crossed every line. This is not your house to command. Lena and I bought this apartment for ourselves. We have our own family, and you will never be the one in charge of it. Lena is the mistress of this apartment, and she will make the decisions here. You should not interfere in our life if you don’t want to ruin your relationship with me.”
A deathly silence fell over the living room. Lena caught her breath, because she had never heard so much resolve in her husband’s voice when speaking to his mother. Had he finally decided to keep the promise he had given his wife and protect her? The corners of her lips lifted in a faint smile, though her hands were still trembling. Lena was afraid of the scandal that might erupt next.
“How dare you talk to me like that?! I’ve done everything for you! I—”
“You humiliated my wife in our home. You didn’t ask whether we wanted so many guests to come over. We let it slide, thinking maybe you were just lonely by yourself and decided to gather everyone at our place. But being the one in charge in our home? No. That will never happen. And all of you, dear guests,” Dmitry’s voice wavered, but he continued, “please take your drinks. No hard feelings. But this toast is the first and last one I will make in your company. To respecting personal boundaries and your children’s choices. If anyone doesn’t understand that, I won’t keep you here.”
Lena heard the rustling, muffled exclamations, and his mother’s voice breaking into a shrill falsetto. She gathered her strength not to go out and intervene. Dmitry did not need support now. He had taken an important step, and he had to go through it himself.
Soon he came into the bedroom. From the living room came a different kind of murmur now—embarrassed, guilty—as the guests gathered their things.
“They’re all leaving,” Dmitry said. “Mom too. Uncle Vitya is taking her with him. She doesn’t want to talk to me.” He came over and hugged Lena, pressing his head to her shoulder. He was trembling. “Forgive me. I was so blind. I should have talked to her earlier instead of letting it come to this. I didn’t want to ruin your holiday.”
“It’s all right. What matters most is that you found the strength to take this step. I understand how hard it was for you. I’m sorry you had to go through that. I’m sorry for your mother too, but I hope that one day she will understand.”
The guests left, taking with them all the dishes and appetizers Dmitry’s mother had worked so hard to prepare. Their celebration would continue elsewhere. But Dima and Lena would have their own cozy family holiday.
Taking out a bottle of sparkling wine, the couple, just as they had planned, stepped onto the balcony to admire the fireworks. Snow drifted slowly to the ground, and though it was cold, the closeness and love blazing in their hearts kept them warm.
“I won’t turn a blind eye to the truth anymore. From now on, I will always protect you. I give you my word,” Dmitry said, gently kissing Lena on the temple.
