Nonna froze with the plate in her hands. Ruslan had said the words casually, scrolling through the news feed on his phone. They had been living in his apartment for the third year since their wedding. It was a three-room apartment in a new building, which Ruslan had bought before he even met her. Nonna worked as an editor at a children’s book publishing house, while Ruslan sold auto parts — he owned a small shop.
“When is she coming?” Nonna asked, setting the plate on the table.
“In a week. She needs treatment at our city clinic. The doctors here are better than in her village.”
“For how long?”
“Two or three months, maybe more. You know how it is with treatment.” Ruslan did not even look up from the screen.
Nonna nodded silently. Valentina Petrovna, Ruslan’s mother, was an authoritarian and categorical woman. Every time they met, she found a reason to reproach her daughter-in-law — the borscht was not thick enough, her husband’s shirts were not starched well enough, there was dust on the top shelf of the wardrobe.
“All right,” Nonna exhaled. “I’ll prepare the guest room.”
“Good. Mom will be pleased.”
The following week, Nonna prepared for her mother-in-law’s visit. She washed all the windows, laundered the curtains, and bought new bed linen. The fridge was stocked with Valentina Petrovna’s favorite foods — cottage cheese of a specific brand, black bread with caraway seeds, and gooseberry jam.
On the day of her arrival, Nonna baked her mother-in-law’s favorite cabbage pie and prepared a three-course lunch. Ruslan went to meet his mother at the train station.
The door opened two hours later.
“Bring the bags in here!” Ruslan’s voice rang out from the hallway.
Nonna came out to greet the guests and froze. Beside Valentina Petrovna stood another woman of about sixty, an exact copy of her mother-in-law, only a little younger.
“Meet Aunt Zina, Nonna. Mom’s sister. She also came for treatment,” Ruslan said, dragging enormous bags into the hallway.
“But…” Nonna began.
“But what?” Valentina Petrovna walked into the apartment, looking around critically. “The apartment is big. There’s enough room for everyone. Zinochka will stay with me in the guest room.”
“Oh, how lovely!” Zinaida Petrovna exclaimed, examining the interior. “Ruslanchik, well done, what a nice apartment you managed to grab! And what is this painting? Ugh, how tasteless! Did you choose it?” she turned to Nonna.
“It was a wedding gift from my parents,” Nonna replied quietly.
“Well, parents are parents, but one should still have taste of one’s own!” Zinaida laughed.
For the first week, Nonna held on. She got up at six in the morning to prepare breakfast for four. Valentina Petrovna demanded hot porridge without fail, Zinaida wanted eggs with bacon, and Ruslan was used to sandwiches with coffee.
“Nonna, the coffee tastes like dishwater again!” Valentina Petrovna declared on the third day. “How many times do I have to tell you? It needs to be stronger!”
“And the porridge is lumpy today,” Zinaida chimed in. “Is it really so hard to stir it properly?”
Ruslan remained silent, buried in his phone.
After work, Nonna stopped by the store for groceries. The list from her mother-in-law and her sister took up an entire page. A special kind of cheese, specific yogurts, meat only from a certain counter.
“You bought the wrong thing again!” Zinaida protested. “I asked for twenty-percent sour cream, and this is fifteen!”
“There wasn’t any other kind at the store,” Nonna tried to explain.
“Then you should have gone to another store! What a cheap excuse!”
In the evenings, the women occupied the living room, loudly discussing neighbors, relatives, and everyone they knew. The television blared at full volume.
“Nonna, bring us some tea!” Valentina Petrovna shouted.
“And cookies! Not those cheap ones you usually buy!” Zinaida added.
Ruslan came home late, citing business at the shop. He went straight to bed, brushing off his wife’s attempts to talk.
On the tenth day, Nonna could not take it anymore.
“Ruslan, this cannot continue. Your aunt is constantly rude to me and demands that I serve her like a maid.”
“Don’t wind yourself up. Aunt Zina is just a straightforward woman. Besides, they are guests. You need to show hospitality.”
“Guests? They have been living here for a week and a half and behaving like they own the place!”
“Nonna, this is my mother. And her sister. They are elderly people who came here for treatment. Is it really so hard to be patient?”
“Do you even hear me? I’m exhausted! I work, then I come home and serve your relatives!”
“ENOUGH with the hysterics!” Ruslan raised his voice. “They will stay as long as they need to, and that is final!”
The situation worsened with every passing day. Valentina Petrovna began rearranging the furniture “to make it more convenient,” and Zinaida threw away Nonna’s favorite blanket, calling it “a rag.”
“Ruslanchik, why does your wife disappear at work all day long?” Zinaida asked over dinner. “A normal woman should stay at home and wait for her husband.”
“I work because I enjoy it,” Nonna replied.
“Enjoy it?” Valentina Petrovna snorted. “And cooking for your husband and cleaning the apartment — you don’t enjoy that? Look at the dirt under the refrigerator!”
“I cleaned yesterday…”
“You cleaned badly! When I was your age, I worked, and the house sparkled, and my husband was always fed!”
“Mom is right,” Ruslan suddenly intervened. “Lately, you’ve completely neglected the household.”
Nonna stared at her husband with wide eyes.
“Are you serious?”
“What? The facts speak for themselves. Yesterday, the shirt was badly ironed, and today’s lunch was tasteless.”
“Lunch was tasteless? I cooked for three hours after work!”
“Well, then I guess you don’t know how to cook,” Ruslan shrugged.
Zinaida giggled.
“Oh, when I was young, I could cook! Men lined up for me!”
“And this one’s borscht is watery, and her cutlets are dry,” Valentina Petrovna supported her sister.
Nonna stood up from the table.
“Where do you think you’re going?” her mother-in-law protested. “Who is going to wash the dishes?”
“Wash them yourselves!” Nonna snapped and went into the bedroom.
“What rudeness!” Valentina Petrovna exclaimed. “Ruslan, are you going to let this slide?”
Half an hour later, a furious Ruslan entered the bedroom.
“Have you completely lost your mind? How dare you speak to my mother like that?”
“And how dare she speak to me like that? I am not a servant!”
“They are GUESTS in MY home! And you will behave decently!”
“In your home? Then who am I here?”
“You are my wife. And you must respect my family!”
“Am I not your family?”
“Don’t twist my words! Mom and Aunt will stay as long as they need to. And you will treat them with respect. THAT’S IT!”
He slammed the door.
The next morning, Nonna woke up with one clear thought — this could not go on any longer. She prepared breakfast, silently listened to the next round of complaints, and went to work.
During her lunch break, she called her friend.
“Alyona, can I stay at your place for a couple of nights?”
“Of course! What happened?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
After work, Nonna returned home and began packing her things. Ruslan was not back yet. Valentina Petrovna and Zinaida were sitting in the living room.
“What is all this packing?” her mother-in-law noticed the suitcase.
“I’m leaving for a few days.”
“What do you mean, leaving? And who will cook? Who will clean?”
“You are grown adults. You’ll manage.”
“You have become completely insolent!” Zinaida shrieked. “Does Ruslan know about this?”
“He will.”
“NO, you are not going anywhere!” Valentina Petrovna blocked her way to the door. “You will stay here and fulfill your duties!”
“GET OUT of my way!” Nonna raised her voice.
“How dare you! I won’t allow it!”
At that moment, Ruslan came home.
“What is going on here?”
“Your little wife is trying to run away!” Zinaida wailed. “She’s packing her things!”
“Nonna, what kind of circus is this?”
“This is not a circus, Ruslan. I’m going to stay with a friend. I’m tired of putting up with rudeness and humiliation.”
“You are not going anywhere!”
“Oh yes, I am! I am a free person!”
“You are my WIFE!”
“A wife you do not respect or value!”
“Stop throwing a tantrum!”
“And you STOP turning me into a servant for your relatives!”
Valentina Petrovna threw up her hands.
“There it is, her true face! Ruslanchik, I told you she was not a match for you!”
“SHUT UP!” Nonna shouted. “I’m sick of you! Sick of all of you!”
She grabbed the suitcase and headed for the door.
“If you leave now, don’t bother coming back!” Ruslan shouted.
Nonna turned around.
“Excellent! That’s exactly what I’ll do!”
The door slammed.
“Good riddance!” Zinaida snorted. “What kind of woman did you marry?”
“Don’t worry, we’ll find you a normal wife,” Valentina Petrovna comforted her son. “One who knows her place!”
Ruslan silently went into the bedroom. He was sure Nonna would come back in a day or two. Where else could she go?
A week passed. Nonna did not return and did not call. At first, Ruslan was angry, then he began to worry. But his pride would not allow him to call first.
Meanwhile, life at home turned into hell.
“Ruslan, is breakfast ready?” his mother asked every morning.
“Mom, I’m late for work.”
“Then get up earlier and cook! We are sick people!”
In the evening, a three-page shopping list awaited him.
“And don’t forget to stop by the pharmacy!” Zinaida commanded. “I need those drops, the brand I told you about yesterday!”
“Aunt Zina, I don’t remember the name…”
“Irresponsible! You should have written it down!”
Within a week, the apartment had turned into chaos. Dirty dishes, unwashed floors, dust everywhere. Valentina Petrovna only gave orders, and Zinaida echoed her. They refused to cook — “we came here for treatment, not to stand at the stove.”
“Ruslan, there are no clean shirts left!” his mother complained. “When are you going to do the laundry?”
“Mom, I work twelve hours a day!”
“Your father worked fourteen hours a day and still managed everything!”
On the tenth day, Ruslan could not take it anymore.
“Mom, Aunt Zina, let’s hire a housekeeper.”
“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?” Valentina Petrovna shrieked. “A stranger in the house? ABSOLUTELY NOT!”
“But I can’t handle this!”
“Then why did you drive your wife away?” Zinaida asked sarcastically.
“I didn’t drive her away! She left on her own!”
“Because you didn’t put her in her place in time! A man should be in charge!”
By the end of the second week, Ruslan was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. The shop was barely functioning — he constantly had to leave, either for groceries, or the pharmacy, or some other errand for his mother and aunt.
“Ruslanchik, the refrigerator broke!” Valentina Petrovna announced one morning.
“What do you mean, broke? It was working yesterday!”
“And today it isn’t! Zina wanted to warm up some tea, pressed some buttons, and that was it — it won’t turn on!”
It turned out Zinaida had “accidentally” turned on defrost mode and unplugged it. All the food spoiled.
“We’ll have to buy a new one!” she declared. “This one was old anyway!”
“It’s two years old!”
“Then it must have been defective!”
That evening, Ruslan sat in the kitchen calculating expenses. In two weeks, they had spent as much money as he and Nonna usually spent in two months. Medicine, special foods, the whims of his mother and aunt.
The phone rang. An unknown number.
“Hello?”
“Ruslan Sergeyevich? This is Maria Ivanovna, your neighbor downstairs. Do you have a flood up there?”
“What flood?”
“Water is dripping from my ceiling! In the bathroom!”
Ruslan rushed to the bathroom. Zinaida had forgotten to turn off the tap, and water was pouring over the edge of the bathtub.
“AUNT ZINA!”
“Oh, I forgot! So what? A little water spilled!”
“A little? We flooded the neighbors!”
“So what? They have insurance, don’t they?”
The neighbor demanded compensation for the damage — she had just renovated her apartment. The amount was substantial.
The next day, Ruslan came home and discovered that his watch was missing — a gift from Nonna for their wedding anniversary.
“Mom, where is my watch?”
“Oh, that one? Zinochka took it to a pawnshop.”
“WHAT? WHY?”
“We needed money for medicine! Yesterday you said you had no money!”
“It was a GIFT from my wife!”
“Your ex-wife,” Zinaida corrected him. “And why are you shouting? We are trying for your own good!”
“For my own good? YOU DESTROYED MY LIFE!”
“Don’t you dare speak like that!” Valentina Petrovna shrieked. “We saved you from that insolent woman!”
“Insolent? NONNA was the only person who made this apartment a home!”
“She was not worthy of you!”
“YOU are the ones who were not worthy of her! GET OUT! BOTH OF YOU! NOW!”
“You don’t dare throw out your own mother!”
“OH YES, I DO! Pack your things and GET OUT! I’m giving you one hour!”
“Ruslan, come to your senses!” Valentina Petrovna wailed.
“Ungrateful!” Zinaida shrieked. “We came to you with open hearts!”
“OUT! I don’t want to see you here in an hour!”
Ruslan went into the bedroom and dialed Nonna’s number. Long rings.
“Hello,” his wife’s calm voice answered.
“Nonna, forgive me! I was an idiot! Please come back!”
“Ruslan, you’re too late.”
“What do you mean, too late?”
“I filed for divorce. The documents are in your mailbox.”
“Nonna, let’s talk! I threw them out! They’re leaving!”
“It’s too late, Ruslan. You made your choice. Now live with it.”
The line went dead.
An hour later, Valentina Petrovna and Zinaida left the apartment with curses, promising that he would regret it.
Ruslan was left alone in the wrecked apartment. On the table lay a notice for a registered letter — the divorce papers. At the pawnshop, he was told that the watch had already been sold. The neighbors filed a lawsuit over the flooding.
He sat down on the floor in the middle of the living room and suddenly understood — he had lost everything. The wife who loved him. The home she had created. The happiness he had failed to appreciate.
At that moment, Nonna was signing a lease for her own apartment. Small, but hers. A place where no one would humiliate her or boss her around. On the table lay a promotion offer — the editor-in-chief had appreciated her work and offered her the chance to head a new department.
She smiled. Sometimes you have to show anger to defend your dignity. Sometimes you have to slam one door in order to open new ones.
As for Ruslan, let him live with his choice. After all, he was the one who decided what mattered more — his wife or his relatives’ whims. Well, everyone gets what they deserve.
A month later, Nonna ran into a mutual acquaintance.
“Have you heard about Ruslan? He’s selling the shop. He got into debt. And they say he may have to sell the apartment too — the neighbors won the lawsuit, and he was ordered to pay huge compensation.”
Nonna shrugged. That was no longer her problem.
Valentina Petrovna and Zinaida returned to their village. The treatment they had supposedly come for turned out to be a lie — they had simply wanted to live in the city at someone else’s expense. Now they sat in their own homes and complained to the neighbors about the ungrateful son and nephew.
“We raised him, brought him up, and he threw his own mother out!” Valentina Petrovna lamented.
Only the neighbors, for some reason, were in no hurry to sympathize. They all remembered how she herself had once driven her own mother-in-law out of the house.
You reap what you sow.
