— Do you live here? — Her thin lips barely curved into a smirk.
— Yes, dear. And what surprises you about that? — I replied with a gentle smile, watching as her immaculate fingers nervously fiddled with the strap of a fake Prada bag.
They say that life stops after your husband’s death. But that’s not true. Mine took on new vigor when I met her—my future daughter-in-law. Antoshka was so happy introducing us to each other in that cozy café. «Mom, this is Marina!» he blurted out then. And I immediately noticed her regal posture, impeccable manners… and the cold glint in her eyes, which of course, went unnoticed by my son.
Petr left me a fortune that could provide a comfortable existence for generations. However, before his death, he often repeated, «Lyuda, money reveals people. Especially the lack of it.» When Anton suggested testing the bride’s mettle, I agreed without hesitation.
We planned everything down to the last detail. I «left» my mansion in the city center and moved to a small apartment on the outskirts, starting to dress in ordinary stores. Anton supported the legend that all the funds went to paying off father’s debts. And so the performance began.
— Marina, dear, would you like some tea? — I pulled out a worn cup from an old cabinet.
— Oh, no-no, I’m on a diet, — she grimaced, examining the worn tablecloth. — Anton told me you used to live in the center? It must be hard getting used to… this?
I shrugged, hiding a smile:
— The main thing is a roof over your head. And the area isn’t that bad once you get used to the noise of the trains.
She theatrically shuddered:
— God, I couldn’t bear it. You know, I just can’t without a certain level of comfort.
—
— Lyudochka, have you gone mad?! — my longtime friend Katya almost choked on her coffee. — Why all this complication? Just explain to your son that this lady is a mere gold digger!
We sat in her beauty salon after closing. Katya knew the truth about my estate—we had been friends since school.
— No, Kat. He needs to see for himself. Just yesterday, for example, she made such a remark: «Oh, is that blouse from a second-hand store? So… vintage!» And that was in front of Anton! As soon as he left, she added, «I hope you’re not planning to wear that to our wedding?»
Katya shook her head:
— And the son?
— The son? He’s crazy about her. For him, she’s perfect.
—
Everything changed a month later. Marina dropped by unannounced—supposedly to discuss the wedding menu. She pompously settled at the table, casting disdainful glances at my apartment.
— You know, — she began, examining her flawless nails, — I keep thinking… How did you even manage to raise Anton in such conditions? He’s so… cultured.
I pretended to be busy wiping dust.
— It must have been terrible—living in constant need, — she continued with feigned sympathy. — Though… to each their own. Some are born for luxury, and some… — her gaze meaningfully swept across my worn furniture.
At that moment, I realized that Petr was absolutely right. Money truly reveals a person’s true nature. Especially the lack of it.
I glanced at a photo of my husband hanging on the wall and barely perceptibly winked at him. The show went on, but its end was already in sight.
The wedding preparations turned into a real spending marathon. Marina flitted between wedding salons, choosing one dress more expensive than the other. Poor my boy, Anton, just nodded and pulled out his credit card. And I silently observed.
— Mommy, — she sang one evening, showing up at my place with a huge folder filled with glossy brochures, — we’ve calculated the wedding budget…
I was just mending a button on an old coat—deliberately old, as my wardrobe was filled with clothes from famous designers.
— And? — I looked up, trying to hide the laughter ready to burst out.
— Well… — she sat on the very edge of the sofa, theatrically sighing. — You see, a wedding is the most important event in life! We discussed with Antoshka… Maybe you could take out a small loan? Maybe two million…
I nearly pricked my finger at such audacity.
— Dear, — I gently replied, — I’m afraid they won’t approve a loan for me. With my librarian’s salary…
Her face contorted as though she had swallowed something sour.
— But it’s your only son’s wedding! Can’t you at least help out a bit? He needs a present! Maybe you could rent out the apartment!
I glanced around my «miserable» studio:
— And where would I live?
— Well… — she hesitated, — you could rent a room. Or… move out of the city. It’s much cheaper there.
—
That night, I couldn’t sleep. I lay there, remembering Petr, our modest wedding when we were truly impoverished but insanely happy. Then came his first big project, then the second… The fortune grew, but we remained the same people.
Suddenly, my phone vibrated—a message from Katya: «Urgently check your ‘princess’s’ social media page!»
I opened Marina’s profile and saw her live stream from a trendy bar. She was surrounded by girlfriends, clearly in high spirits, and her story was full of emotions.
«Imagine? She mends old tights! In 2025!» — Marina rolled her eyes. «But no worries, after the wedding, we’ll fix everything. Anton will do everything right, and mommy can stay in her… how do you say… municipal apartment.»
Her friends giggled.
«Are you sure he’s not hiding anything from you?» — one of them asked.
«What can he hide?» — snorted Marina. «Daddy’s debts devoured the entire estate. But Anton has a great job, big prospects… The main thing is, he’s so… manageable.» She lowered her voice to a whisper, but the microphone still caught every word.
I turned off the screen and for the first time during this performance, felt true pain. Not for myself, but for my son.
—
— Mom, you’ve been acting strange lately, — Anton came to see me the next day. — Something happened?
I looked at him—so beautiful, successful, but amazingly naive—and didn’t know how to start the conversation.
— Everything’s fine, sunshine. Just tired from work.
— Maybe you should take a break?
— Antosha, — I interrupted, — honestly answer: are you happy?
He beamed:
— Insanely! Marina—she’s special. Sometimes I think she’s too good for me.
«If only you knew how serious everything is,» I thought, looking out the window.
—
That evening, a call from Katya:
— So, my friend, ready for tomorrow’s bachelorette party?
I exhaled heavily. Marina had invited me out of politeness, clearly hoping I would decline.
— Ready. You know, I specifically bought a new dress… from a second-hand store.
Katya burst into laughter:
— Oh, that’ll definitely hit her! Listen, maybe it’s enough of this game? Time to tell Anton the truth!
— No, Kat. It’s too late. Tomorrow’s the bachelorette party, the wedding’s in a week… Let everything go its course.
— Did you plan something?
I smiled, glancing at the safe behind the painting:
— Let’s just say I have a special wedding gift for her.
—
The bachelorette party took place in the city’s most prestigious restaurant. Marina shone in a luxurious dress from a famous designer, and her friends paraded in impeccable outfits. And I… I showed up in my «new» dress from a second-hand store and my favorite brooch—the only item I kept «from my previous life.»
— Oh, mommy! — Marina falsely clapped her hands. — You decided to come after all! We thought you would decline… Not everyone can afford to step into such a place…
— It’s my only son’s wedding, — I calmly replied.
Her friends exchanged glances, barely restraining their mocking smiles.
— Girls, — Marina raised her glass, — I want to make a toast! To my future mother-in-law, who… will always be an example to me of how important it is to be content with little!
They laughed, and I just smiled and raised my glass:
— To you, dear. And to the surprises that life sometimes brings.
Marina cringed slightly, hearing my tone, but quickly returned to her act:
— By the way, mommy, we discussed with Anton… After the wedding, it would be nice if you moved somewhere… closer to nature. The hustle and bustle of the city is unnecessary at your age.
«Closer to nature» actually meant «farther from us.» I took a sip of champagne:
— Don’t worry, dear. After the wedding, everything will change. I promise.
—
The morning of the wedding was surprisingly sunny. I stood in front of the mirror in my «miserable» apartment, examining the image I had carefully crafted for years: a worn coat, unfashionable bag, cheap jewelry. The pretense was coming to an end.
The phone was buzzing with messages. Marina was panicking in the family chat:
«Mommy! I hope you’re not planning to wear that awful dress from the bachelorette party! I’ve put 15,000 on your card—buy something decent. It’s my wedding!»
I smirked. In the trunk of my modest «Lada» (which was far more modest than my actual car collection) lay a Chanel dress cover and a box with a diamond necklace—the very one Petr had given me. «Wear it on a special day,» he had said then.
—
The on-site registration took place at an elite country complex. Security skeptically glanced at me but let me through—after all, I was the groom’s mother.
— God, you’re in that again? — Marina practically flew at me in the hallway. Her perfect hairstyle began to crack at the seams from agitation. — Quickly change! I hung a new dress for you in the dressing room.
— Don’t worry, dear, — I patted her shoulder. — I have a surprise for you. But first, we need to talk. Alone.
She rolled her eyes:
— Now? I have a wedding in an hour!
— That’s why—now.
—
I led her to an empty conference room and locked the door. Marina visibly became nervous:
— What’s with the dramatic pauses? My makeup might run!
— Sit down, — I took out a folder with documents from my bag. — Do you know what this is?
She irritably shook her head. I began laying out papers on the table:
— This is a statement from my bank account. And these are documents for the mansion in the city center. Here’s more—papers for the country house. And a list of my stocks and investments.
