The white dress was reflected in the banquet hall mirror. Victoria adjusted her veil with trembling fingers. Today she was becoming Artyom’s wife. Her lifelong dream was coming true.
“What a beautiful bride!” her friends exclaimed.
“Thank you, girls,” Vika said with a smile.
But her eyes drifted toward her mother-in-law’s table. Galina Petrovna sat there with a stony expression, her lips pressed together and her eyes cold.
Vika’s heart tightened with unease. Why was her future mother-in-law looking at her like that? As though she were judging her and finding her lacking.
“Tyoma, your mother doesn’t seem very… happy,” she whispered to her fiancé.
“Don’t pay any attention,” Artyom said, squeezing her hand. “She’s just nervous.”
Galina Petrovna approached the newlyweds. Her gaze swept over Vika’s dress with unmistakable disapproval.
“Well,” she said coldly, “you’re part of our family now.”
“I’m very happy, Galina Petrovna,” Vika said, trying to smile.
“We’ll see how you conduct yourself.” Her mother-in-law turned away. “My Mashenka has always been so sensible. She’s in no hurry to get married.”
Vika’s cheeks burned. Was that a hint that she had rushed into marriage? That she wasn’t good enough for their family?
The celebration passed in a blur. Vika smiled at the guests and danced with her husband, but her mother-in-law’s words burned inside her.
Almost a year went by. One day, Vika proudly held up a statement from the bank: she had made the final mortgage payment. The apartment was entirely hers.
“Tyoma, look!” she said, waving the document. “I’m debt-free!”
“Well done, sweetheart.” Her husband hugged her. “Now we can think about getting a car.”
Vika was overjoyed. She had worked, saved, and reached her goal.
Before long, her mother-in-law heard about their plans.
“A car?” Galina Petrovna scoffed. “Are you going to take out another loan?”
Vika’s smile faded. Her mother-in-law had invited herself to dinner, and Vika hadn’t felt able to refuse.
“It’s an investment, Galina Petrovna,” she explained. “I need a car for work.”
“At this rate, you’ll spend your whole life in debt.” Her mother-in-law shook her head. “My Mashenka is completely different. She never takes out loans.”
Vika clenched her teeth. Masha was twenty-nine, had no qualifications or job, and still lived with her mother. Yet in Galina Petrovna’s eyes, she was the ideal woman.
“Mashenka is a sensible girl,” her mother-in-law continued. “She doesn’t waste money on nonsense.”
Bitterness rose in Vika’s throat. Was owning her own apartment nonsense? Was wanting independence foolish?
Artyom said nothing. As always, he fell silent when his mother criticized his wife.
That night, Vika lay awake for hours, tears running down her cheeks and onto her pillow. Why did she have to defend herself? What had she done wrong?
A few months later, Galina Petrovna appeared without warning. Her face was glowing with happiness.
“I have news!” she announced. “Mashenka is getting married!”
“Congratulations,” Vika managed.
“Can you imagine? She’s found a good man!” Her mother-in-law didn’t notice Vika’s cool response. “Of course, she deserves a proper wedding.”
Vika’s heart sank. She could see where this was going.
“As a family, we should help.” Galina Petrovna looked straight at her. “You have savings, don’t you?”
“I have a hundred thousand rubles,” Vika admitted. “I’ve been saving for a car.”
“Wonderful!” Her mother-in-law clapped her hands. “Mashenka deserves a beautiful wedding.”
Vika stared at her. Her money, her hard work, her plans—and Galina Petrovna expected her to hand it all over for Masha’s wedding.
“I’ll think about it,” she said quietly.
“What’s there to think about?” Galina Petrovna asked in surprise. “Family is family.”
Galina Petrovna left looking pleased. Vika was left alone with bitter thoughts.
Over the next week, Vika gave in and handed over the hundred thousand rubles. She still browsed car listings, though the dream now seemed out of reach. Her savings had gone toward someone else’s wedding.
The doorbell interrupted her thoughts. Galina Petrovna stood outside, looking concerned.
“Vika dear, we need to talk.” She walked into the living room without an invitation.
Vika closed the door behind her. Something about Galina Petrovna’s tone put her on guard. It was too sweet, too false.
“About what?” she asked cautiously.
“A present for Mashenka.” Her mother-in-law settled into an armchair. “It should be something special. Think about it for a few days, and then I’ll come by again!”
Vika’s throat went dry. Had the money not been enough? Did they expect even more from her?
“Galina Petrovna, I already gave a hundred thousand,” she reminded her weakly.
“Darling, that went toward organizing the wedding.” Her mother-in-law waved a hand. “A present is something else entirely.”
Vika sank onto the sofa, her legs weak with indignation. So her money didn’t even count as a gift?
“But that was a gift to the family too,” she protested.
“Oh, no, dear!” Galina Petrovna laughed. “A gift is for the newlyweds. That was simply a contribution from a relative.”
Vika’s blood boiled. She gripped the sofa arms until her knuckles turned white. How could anyone be so shameless?
“What do you suggest I give them?” she asked through clenched teeth.
“Something useful for married life,” her mother-in-law replied with a mysterious smile.
The following days dragged by. Vika paced the apartment, slept in fits and starts, and forced herself to eat. The wedding was ten days away. What had her mother-in-law meant?
Artyom tried to calm her, but he didn’t understand how humiliating this was.
That morning, Galina Petrovna arrived with a woman in a business suit.
“Vika dear, meet Olga Ivanovna,” her mother-in-law said brightly. “She’ll help us with the paperwork.”
Vika stared at the stranger in confusion. What paperwork?
“What documents?” she asked.
Galina Petrovna looked around the apartment, taking in the renovation, the furniture, and the layout of the rooms. She seemed to be assessing its value.
“Sit down, dear.” She patted the sofa beside her. “We have something to discuss.”
Olga Ivanovna silently spread papers across the table. Vika saw official forms and stamps.
“My daughter needs a home for her wedding,” Galina Petrovna said calmly. “Help the family.”
Vika froze. Sounds grew muffled around her.
“What do you mean?” she whispered.
“Your apartment would be perfect for the young couple,” her mother-in-law explained. “You and Artyom can live with me for a while.”
Olga Ivanovna held out a pen. Galina Petrovna was already rubbing her hands together.
“You want me to give away my apartment?” Vika’s voice shook.
“Not give it away. Help the family,” her mother-in-law corrected. “Mashenka is family too.”
Vika looked at the documents, the stamps, and the pen in the stranger’s hand. One signature could change her entire life.
“That’s impossible.” She rose from the sofa on trembling legs. “I won’t give away my apartment.”
“Why is it impossible?” Galina Petrovna frowned. “Family should help family.”
Anger surged through Vika.
“I already helped!” she cried. “I gave you a hundred thousand rubles!”
“Oh, that small change.” Her mother-in-law waved dismissively. “It’s nothing compared with a home.”
Olga Ivanovna quietly began gathering up the documents. Vika wanted to snatch them from her hands and tear them apart.
“Small change?” she repeated in disbelief. “I worked hard for that money!”
“Dear, don’t be dramatic.” Galina Petrovna got to her feet. “Think of Mashenka. She needs a good start to married life.”
Vika stepped back until she reached the wall. She needed something solid to lean against.
“Did you ever care about my start?” she asked softly.
Galina Petrovna took out her phone and dialed. Vika knew whom she was calling. Her heart pounded so loudly she could barely hear herself think.
“Tyoma, come over right away,” Galina Petrovna said into the phone. “Your wife refuses to help your sister.”
The next twenty minutes felt endless. Vika paced the apartment. Olga Ivanovna waited patiently in the kitchen, while her mother-in-law leafed through a magazine with a stony expression.
A key turned in the lock. Artyom came in looking concerned, and Vika hurried toward him.
“Tyoma, explain it to your mother,” she began. “I can’t give away my apartment.”
“Mom, what’s going on?” Artyom asked wearily.
“Your wife won’t help Mashenka with a place to live.” Galina Petrovna rose from the sofa. “She’s being selfish.”
Vika looked at her husband hopefully. Surely he would stand up for her.
“Vik, maybe we can talk about this calmly?” Artyom suggested.
Her hope collapsed.
“What is there to discuss?” Galina Petrovna cut in. “Mashenka needs a home, and Vika has more space than she needs.”
“More space than I need?” Vika could hardly believe her ears. “This is the only apartment I own!”
“Then you can buy another one!” her mother-in-law said with a shrug.
Artyom nodded in agreement. Vika stared at him in horror.
“Tyoma, this is my apartment,” she said slowly. “I bought it. I paid for it.”
“I understand, sweetheart.” Artyom moved closer. “But Masha is family too.”
Something inside Vika finally broke. She understood that she was alone against them.
“Get out!” she suddenly shouted. “Get out of my apartment!”
Galina Petrovna’s mouth fell open. Artyom stepped forward with his hands outstretched.
“Vika, calm down—”
“No!” She brushed him away. “Pay for your beloved daughter’s wedding however you like! But keep your hands off my apartment!”
Angry tears streamed down her cheeks as she pointed toward the door.
“Out!” she cried, her voice breaking. “Don’t come back!”
Mother and son left in silence. Olga Ivanovna followed, carrying the unfinished paperwork. The door slammed shut behind them.
Vika sank to the floor in the hallway and sobbed. Their greed and audacity had shattered her faith in her marriage.
But she would get through it. Somehow, she would.
