“You’re only here temporarily, but my mother is here for good, so don’t you dare raise your voice at her!” he shouted at his wife after yet another argument in the kitchen with his mother.
Inna sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the suitcase full of her things. The wedding had been only two weeks ago, and already she felt out of place. Alexander’s house—spacious, bright, with high ceilings and large windows—was supposed to become their shared home. Their family nest. But from the very first day, Inna realized there was already a mistress of the house here. And it was not her.
Victoria Sergeyevna greeted her daughter-in-law at the door on moving day with a strained smile.
“Come in, Innochka. Just put on slippers right away, the floors have just been washed.”
Inna nodded, took off her shoes, and changed into the house slippers she had brought with her.
“Those won’t do,” her mother-in-law said, shaking her head. “The soles are too hard—you’ll scratch the floor. Here, put these on. I set them out for you специально.”
Inna took the slippers being offered to her—old, worn down, with a faded pattern. She put them on without a word.
Alexander carried in the last box of his wife’s belongings and set it down in the hallway.
“Mom, we’ll sort everything out and put it in place now.”
“No need to rush. I already cleared out two drawers in the dresser for Inna and half the wardrobe. I think that will be enough—the girl doesn’t have that many things.”
Inna swallowed the comment rising in her throat. Two drawers? She had three suitcases of clothes and a box of shoes.
“Victoria Sergeyevna, may I decide for myself how much space I need? This is Alexander’s and my room.”
Her mother-in-law frowned.
“The room is big, but there’s only one wardrobe. Alexander needs space too. Don’t worry, I’ve thought of everything. You can put the extra things in the storage room.”
Alexander placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder.
“Inna, let’s sort it out later. Mom was trying to help, she cleared some space. Let’s not argue right now.”
Inna clenched her teeth and nodded. Fine. Later.
But later never came. Victoria Sergeyevna controlled every step her daughter-in-law took in the house. Inna would dust the bookshelves, and her mother-in-law would come behind her with a white napkin, checking the quality of the cleaning.
“You see? There’s still some here. And here too. You need to be more thorough, Innochka. In this house, cleanliness comes above all else.”
Inna would make breakfast, and Victoria Sergeyevna would stand beside her, commenting on every move.
“You don’t fry eggs over that kind of heat—you’ll burn them. Turn it down. And you poured in too much oil; Alexander doesn’t like greasy food. Pour half of it out.”
Inna would put away the dishes after washing them, and her mother-in-law would rearrange everything in her own way.
“The plates go here, not there. The cups should have their handles turned to the left. It’s easier to take them that way.”
Inna was beginning to boil over. Every day—it was the same thing. Remarks, criticism, control. She tried talking to Alexander.
“Your mother won’t even let me put a cup where I want. I don’t feel like a wife in this house—I feel like a servant on probation.”
Alexander would hug his wife, stroke her hair.
“Mom is just used to being the lady of the house. She needs time to get used to the fact that there’s another woman in the house now. Just be patient a little longer, sweetheart. She’s kind, it’s just her personality. Her age, you know.”
“And how long am I supposed to be patient? A month? A year? My whole life?”
“Don’t exaggerate. Things will settle down. Just don’t react so sharply to what she says. Respect the older generation.”
Inna pulled away.
“So I’m supposed to stay quiet and endure it? What about me? Doesn’t my opinion matter?”
“It does matter. But Mom has lived here for a long time. This is her home too. You can’t just come in and remake everything to suit yourself.”
“I don’t want to remake everything! I just want to put a cup on a shelf without hearing commentary!”
Her husband sighed.
“You take everything too personally. Try to be gentler. For my sake.”
Inna said nothing. For his sake. Always for his sake. And who was going to do anything for hers?
A month passed. The tension did not ease—it only kept growing. Victoria Sergeyevna had no intention of loosening her grip. She criticized the new curtains Inna hung in the bedroom—too dark, they made the room gloomy. She moved the vase from the coffee table to the windowsill—that was where it belonged, it had always been there. She didn’t approve of the new dish sponges Inna bought either—too expensive, why overpay, ordinary ones were just as good.
Inna no longer stayed silent. She put the vase back where it had been. She bought the sponges again. She explained that she had chosen the curtains together with Alexander. But every action she took was met with resistance.
“You are a very stubborn girl,” Victoria Sergeyevna would say, shaking her head. “You don’t know how to listen to your elders.”
“I am not a girl. I am an adult woman and your son’s wife. And I have the right to arrange our home the way I see fit.”
“‘Our home’?” her mother-in-law raised an eyebrow. “Alexander’s home. He grew up here, his roots are here. You arrived recently.”
Inna felt her face burn with indignation. Arrived. As if she were some temporary tenant.
“I live here. I am his wife.”
“A wife is not a title. It is duties. And respect for your husband’s family. And you are rude to me every day.”
“I’m not being rude! I just don’t want you ordering me around all the time!”
“That’s enough,” Victoria Sergeyevna said, turning around and walking off to her room.
Inna remained standing in the middle of the living room, her fists clenched. She breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. It was useless. These conversations led nowhere.
She tried once again to talk to Alexander. Her husband listened, nodded, but every time he asked for the same thing.
“Inna, just try to find common ground with her. She’s not young anymore, she’s used to a certain order. Don’t argue with her over every little thing.”
“These are not little things, Sasha! This is my life! I can’t live peacefully in a house where I’m constantly controlled and criticized!”
“No one is controlling you. Mom is just expressing her opinion.”
“Expressing it? She rearranges my things, throws out my purchases, tells me where to stand and how to breathe!”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“I’m not exaggerating! You just don’t see it because you’re not home all day!”
Alexander rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“All right. I’ll talk to her. I’ll ask her to be gentler.”
But the talk changed nothing. Victoria Sergeyevna continued behaving as though she were the only mistress of the house. And Inna felt more and more like she didn’t belong…
Inna sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the suitcase filled with her things. The wedding had been only two weeks ago, yet she already felt out of place. Alexander’s house — spacious, bright, with high ceilings and large windows — was supposed to become their shared home. Their family nest. But from the very first day, Inna understood that there was already a mistress of the house here. And it was not her.
Victoria Sergeyevna greeted her daughter-in-law at the doorway on moving day with a strained smile.
“Come in, Innochka. Just put on slippers right away, the floors have just been washed.”
Inna nodded, took off her shoes, and changed into the house slippers she had brought with her.
“Those won’t do,” her mother-in-law said, shaking her head. “The soles are too hard, you’ll scratch the floor. Here, wear mine, I set them out for you специально.”
Inna took the slippers held out to her — old, worn down, with a faded pattern. She put them on without a word.
Alexander carried in the last box of his wife’s belongings and set it down in the hallway.
“Mom, we’ll put everything in its place now.”
“No need to rush. I’ve already cleared out two drawers in the dresser for Inna and half the wardrobe. I think that will be enough — the girl doesn’t have that many things.”
Inna swallowed her comment. Two drawers? She had three suitcases of clothes and a box of shoes.
“Victoria Sergeyevna, may I decide for myself how much space I need? This is Alexander’s and my room.”
Her mother-in-law frowned.
“The room is big, but there’s only one wardrobe. Alexander needs space too. Don’t worry, I’ve thought it all through. You can put the extra things in the storage closet.”
Alexander laid a hand on his wife’s shoulder.
“Inna, let’s sort it out later. Mom was trying to help, she made room. Let’s not argue right now.”
Inna clenched her teeth and nodded. Fine. Later.
But later never came. Victoria Sergeyevna controlled her daughter-in-law’s every step in the house. Inna dusted the bookshelves, and her mother-in-law followed behind with a white napkin, checking the quality of the cleaning.
“You see? There’s still dust here. And here too. You need to be more thorough, Innochka. In this house, cleanliness comes above all else.”
Inna made breakfast, and Victoria Sergeyevna stood beside her, commenting on every move.
“You don’t fry eggs over heat like that, you’ll overcook them. Turn it down. And you poured in too much oil — Alexander doesn’t like greasy food. Pour half of it out.”
Inna put away the dishes after washing them, and her mother-in-law rearranged everything in her own way.
“The plates go here, not there. The cups should face left with the handles. That way they’re easier to take.”
Inna was starting to boil over. Every day, the same thing. Remarks, criticism, control. She tried talking to Alexander.
“Your mother won’t even let me put a cup on the shelf the way I want. I don’t feel like a wife in this house — I feel like a servant on probation.”
Alexander hugged his wife and stroked her hair.
“Mom is just used to being the lady of the house. She needs time to get used to the fact that there’s another woman in the house now. Just be patient a little longer, darling. She’s kind, it’s just her character. Her age, you know.”
“And how long am I supposed to be patient? A month? A year? My whole life?”
“Don’t exaggerate. Everything will settle down. Just don’t react so sharply to her words. Respect the older generation.”
Inna pulled away.
“So I’m supposed to stay silent and put up with it? What about me? Doesn’t my opinion matter?”
“It does. But Mom has lived here a long time. It’s her home too. You can’t just come in and reshape everything to suit yourself.”
“I don’t want to reshape everything! I just want to put a cup on the shelf without commentary!”
Her husband sighed.
“You’re reacting too strongly. Try to be gentler. For my sake.”
Inna said nothing. For his sake. Always for his sake. But who would do anything for hers?
A month passed. The tension did not ease; it only grew worse. Victoria Sergeyevna had no intention of loosening her grip. She criticized the new curtains Inna hung in the bedroom — too dark, the room had become gloomy. She moved the vase from the coffee table to the windowsill — that was where it belonged, that was where it had always been. She disliked the new dish sponges Inna bought — too expensive, why overpay, ordinary ones were just as good.
Inna no longer stayed silent. She put the vase back in its place. Bought the sponges again. Explained that she had chosen the curtains together with Alexander. But every action of hers was met with resistance.
“You are a very stubborn girl,” Victoria Sergeyevna said, shaking her head. “You don’t know how to listen to your elders.”
“I’m not a girl. I’m a grown woman and your son’s wife. And I have the right to arrange our home the way I think is best.”
“‘Our home’?” her mother-in-law raised an eyebrow. “Alexander’s home. He grew up here, his roots are here. You came recently.”
Inna felt her face burning with indignation. Came recently. As if she were some temporary lodger.
“I live here. I’m his wife.”
“A wife is not a title. It’s responsibilities. And respect for your husband’s family. But you are rude to me every day.”
“I’m not being rude! I just don’t want you constantly ordering me around!”
“That’s enough,” Victoria Sergeyevna said, turning around and leaving for her room.
Inna remained standing in the middle of the living room, fists clenched. She breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. Useless. Conversations led nowhere.
She tried talking to Alexander again. Her husband listened, nodded, but every time he asked for the same thing.
“Inna, please try to find some common ground with her. She’s not young anymore, she’s used to a certain order. Don’t argue with her over every little thing.”
“These are not little things, Sasha! This is my life! I can’t live peacefully in a house where I’m constantly controlled and criticized!”
“No one is controlling you. Mom is just expressing her opinion.”
“Expressing it? She rearranges my things, throws away my purchases, tells me where to stand and how to breathe!”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“I am not exaggerating! You just don’t see it because you’re not home all day!”
Alexander rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“All right. I’ll talk to her. I’ll ask her to be gentler.”
But the conversation did not help. Victoria Sergeyevna continued behaving like the mistress of the house. And Inna felt more and more like an outsider.
On Sunday, Inna was cooking lunch. She had planned the menu in advance. She decided to make meat — pork in a honey-mustard marinade with rosemary and garlic. It was her signature recipe, and it always turned out perfectly. Alexander loved the dish and always asked for seconds.
Inna took the meat out of the refrigerator and laid it on the cutting board. She started slicing it into portions. Victoria Sergeyevna came into the kitchen, tying on her apron.
“What are you making?”
“Pork in marinade.”
Her mother-in-law stepped closer and looked at the cutting board. She frowned.
“You’re cutting the pieces too thick. They won’t cook through properly. They need to be thinner.”
Inna kept her eyes on the knife.
“That’s intentional. So the meat stays juicy inside.”
“Juicy?” Victoria Sergeyevna snorted. “It’ll be raw. Cut it thinner, I’m telling you.”
“Victoria Sergeyevna, I know what I’m doing. This is my signature recipe.”
“Your recipe is wrong. That’s not how you cook meat. I’ve been cooking all my life, I know better.”
Inna clenched her teeth and kept cutting. Ignore it. Just don’t react.
“And what a strange marinade,” her mother-in-law went on, peering into the bowl. “Honey with mustard? Why make things so complicated? Plain pork with onions, salt, and pepper — that’s what you need. Simple and tasty.”
“I like to experiment,” Inna said, putting the sliced meat into the bowl of marinade and mixing it with her hands.
“Experimenting is good when you know how to cook. But you’re still young, you don’t have much experience. You should master the classics first.”
Inna exhaled slowly. Don’t react. Just keep cooking.
She took out a frying pan, set it on the stove, poured in some oil, and turned on the heat.
“The flame is too high,” Victoria Sergeyevna said, reaching for the stove knob. “Turn it down or it’ll burn.”
“I need to heat the pan first,” Inna said, moving her mother-in-law’s hand away. “So the meat will sear and get a crust.”
“What crust? It’ll all burn! Listen to what you’re told!”
Victoria Sergeyevna turned the knob down herself. Inna froze, staring at the stove. Blood pounded in her temples. Slowly, she turned to her mother-in-law.
“I’m cooking. Don’t touch the stove.”
“Don’t touch it? Do you want to burn the house down?”
“I know what I’m doing!”
Inna turned the heat back up. Victoria Sergeyevna, outraged, turned it down again. Inna spun around to face her, her face burning.
“Stop it! This is my food, I’m cooking it!”
“Your food? On my stove, in my house? You’re forgetting yourself, girl!”
Inna laid the meat onto the hot pan. A loud sizzling sound filled the kitchen. Victoria Sergeyevna watched with her arms crossed over her chest.
“You see how it splatters? I told you to turn the heat down. But you never listen.”
Inna stayed silent, turning the pieces with a spatula. The meat was developing an appetizing golden crust. Exactly as she wanted.
“And why the rosemary?” her mother-in-law continued. “Alexander doesn’t like herbs. Do you even know what your husband likes?”
“Yes. He likes this dish.”
“Likes it?” Victoria Sergeyevna smirked. “He probably just doesn’t want to say it tastes bad out of politeness.”
Inna gripped the spatula so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Stay quiet. Don’t react. Just a little longer.
“It’s under-salted,” her mother-in-law said, picking up the salt shaker from the table. “I’ll fix it now.”
She stretched her hand over the pan, about to sprinkle in salt.
“Don’t!” Inna suddenly grabbed her mother-in-law by the wrist. “I’ll salt it myself when it’s time!”
Victoria Sergeyevna jerked her hand away, her eyes flashing.
“How dare you? How dare you grab me?”
“I’m cooking! Stay out of my food!”
“Your food? I’ve been cooking in this kitchen for thirty years! Thirty years! And you’ve only been here two weeks and you’re already throwing your weight around!”
“I’m not throwing my weight around! I’m just asking you not to interfere while I cook! Is it so hard to simply stand aside?”
“I’m interfering?” her mother-in-law’s voice rose higher. “I’m helping! Because I can see you’re doing everything wrong! But of course, you know better! Young, inexperienced, and already telling your elders what to do!”
“Inexperienced?” Inna turned off the stove and turned to face her mother-in-law. Her palms were trembling. “I’ve been cooking since I was fifteen! I studied at culinary school! I know what I’m doing!”
“You studied?” Victoria Sergeyevna sneered. “At school? Cooking is not about school, it’s about life experience! And you don’t have any!”
“I have my own experience! My own recipes! And if you don’t like something, the door is over there!” Inna pointed toward the kitchen exit.
Victoria Sergeyevna froze. Her face went pale, then turned red.
“How… how dare you point me to the door? In this house? You… you…”
“I am the one in charge in this kitchen!” Inna shouted. “And I will cook the way I see fit! Either stay silent or leave!”
Her mother-in-law clutched at her heart and leaned against the table.
“You… insolent…” she gasped. “Alexander! Alexander, come here this instant!”
Quick footsteps sounded from the living room. Alexander rushed into the kitchen, frightened.
“What happened? Mom, are you feeling unwell?”
“Unwell?” Victoria Sergeyevna sobbed. “Your wife… she’s throwing me out! Out of the house! She’s shouting at me! Pointing me to the door!”
Alexander looked at Inna, his eyes narrowing.
“Is that true?”
“Sasha, she’s constantly interfering with my cooking! Changing the temperature, reaching for the salt, criticizing every single thing I do! I just asked her not to interfere. To leave the kitchen.”
“Asked?” Victoria Sergeyevna sobbed louder. “She was yelling at me! Saying I was not wanted here!”
“I never said that! I said that if she didn’t like the way I cook, she didn’t have to watch!”
“Not watch?” her mother-in-law pressed a handkerchief to her eyes. “In my own house, I’m being told not to watch?”
Alexander stepped toward his wife, his face hard.
“Inna, how can you speak to my mother like that? She’s my mother!”
“And I’m your wife! And I have the right to cook in my own kitchen without constant remarks!”
“In your own kitchen?” Alexander raised his voice. “This is not your kitchen! This is my mother’s house! She lives here, she’s the mistress here!”
Inna took a step back, blinking. Not her kitchen. Not her house.
“Sasha… we’re husband and wife. This is our home.”
“Our home, where my mother lives!” Alexander pointed a finger at his wife. “And you are obliged to respect her! But what are you doing? Shouting at her, being rude, throwing her out!”
“I wasn’t throwing her out! I just said—”
“That’s enough!” her husband sharply waved his hand. “I’m sick of hearing complaints every day! From Mom about you, from you about Mom! I’m sick of it!”
“Then tell her to stop interfering in my life!”
“In your life?” Alexander stepped closer, his voice lower now but harder. “Have you forgotten where you are? You’re here temporarily, but my mother is forever! Don’t you dare raise your voice at her!”
Inna froze. Temporarily. The word hung in the air, heavy as stone. Temporarily. She was temporary. And her mother-in-law was forever.
“What… what did you say?”
“I said the truth!” Alexander did not look away. “Mom will always be my mother. This is my home, her home. And you… you need to accept the rules that exist here!”
Behind her son, Victoria Sergeyevna smiled. A satisfied, spiteful smile.
“You see, Innochka? My son is defending me. Because he knows who is in charge here. I always knew you had a bad character. You don’t respect your elders, you’re rude, you don’t listen to advice.”
Inna stared at her husband in disbelief. He stood next to his mother, defending her. Against his own wife.
“Sasha… do you understand what you just said?”
“I do. And I’ll say it again. If you don’t like how things are here, you can leave. But my mother stays. Forever.”
Inna felt something inside her snap. As if the thin thread that had still been holding her to this house, to this marriage, had broken with a quiet click. Temporary. She was temporary. Unwanted. Superfluous.
“All right,” Inna said quietly. “All right, Sasha.”
She turned around, took off her apron, and carefully hung it on the hook. Then she walked out of the kitchen without looking back.
“Where are you going?” Alexander called after her. “Inna!”
She did not answer. She went into the bedroom, took a suitcase out of the closet — the same one she had unpacked only two weeks earlier. She began putting her things into it. Methodically, calmly. Dresses, blouses, jeans.
Alexander burst into the room.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m leaving.”
“What do you mean, leaving? Going where?”
“To my parents’. I’m only here temporarily, right? So I’ll free up the space.”
Alexander grabbed her by the hand.
“Stop it. That’s not what I meant. I just lost my temper.”
Inna calmly pulled her hand free and kept packing.
“And what did you mean? That I should stay silent and endure everything? Obey your mother and have no opinion of my own? Be a good little girl who doesn’t dare object?”
“I meant that you need to respect your elders!”
“And I don’t deserve respect?” Inna stopped and looked at her husband. “I’m your wife, Sasha. But you chose your mother. You said I was temporary. Well then, let it be that way.”
“Inna, don’t be childish. I just wanted to stop the argument.”
“Stop it? By telling me I don’t belong here? Excellent method.”
She zipped up the suitcase and took hold of the handle. Alexander blocked the doorway.
“You’re not going anywhere. We’ll discuss everything calmly.”
“There’s nothing to discuss. You’ve already said everything. I understood.”
“What did you understand?” Alexander grabbed her by the shoulders. “That I chose my mother? Yes, I don’t want anyone shouting at her! She’s my mother, for heaven’s sake! You have no right to be rude to her!”
“And she has the right to be rude to me? To interfere in everything? To criticize every step I take? That’s normal?”
“She’s an older woman! It’s hard for her to accept that another mistress of the house has appeared!”
“I’m not the mistress of this house,” Inna said quietly. “You just confirmed that yourself. I’m temporary. A guest. Someone who has to live by чужие rules.”
“Don’t say that…”
“Move aside, Sasha. I need to go.”
Alexander did not move. Inna stepped around him and walked into the hallway. Victoria Sergeyevna stood in the kitchen doorway, her arms crossed.
“You’re leaving? Good riddance. There’s no place here for rude, selfish women.”
Inna stopped and looked at her mother-in-law. She wanted to say something, but then she realized it was useless. This woman would never accept her. Never give up her place in her son’s life. And Alexander would always choose his mother.
Inna put on her jacket and picked up her bag. She opened the door. Alexander ran into the hallway.
“Inna, wait. Let’s talk tomorrow. You’re emotional right now.”
“Tomorrow I’ll file for divorce,” Inna said calmly. “Goodbye, Sasha.”
She stepped outside and closed the door. The cold wind hit her face. Inna walked a few steps, stopped, and took a deep breath. Freedom. Strange, but she felt relief. As if she had set down a heavy burden.
Alexander called all evening. Inna did not answer. Then the messages came.
“Come back. I didn’t mean to say that.”
“I’m sorry. I was wrong.”
“Let’s talk everything through. Mom won’t interfere anymore.”
Inna read them and did not reply. There was nothing to discuss. He had shown who mattered more to him. That was enough.
The next morning, Inna went to a lawyer. Calm, determined.
“I want to file for divorce.”
“The reason?”
“Incompatibility. And the impossibility of building a family with a man who is not ready to protect his wife.”
The lawyer nodded and began filling out the documents. Inna signed where she needed to. She left the office with a sense that she was doing the right thing.
Alexander tried to meet with her. He came to Inna’s parents’ house and asked to speak with her. Inna’s mother came out onto the porch and explained calmly.
“Alexander, my daughter does not want to see you anymore. Please leave.”
“But I want to explain! I didn’t mean to hurt her!”
“But you did. Deeply. You told her she was temporary in your home. That your mother mattered more. My daughter will not live with a man who puts her in second place.”
“I’m not putting her in second place! I just… Mom…”
“Your mother will always be more important to you,” Inna’s mother said, shaking her head. “That’s obvious. But then don’t get married. A wife should come first. But in your case, it’s your mother. So leave Inna alone.”
Alexander left. He never came back.
The divorce was finalized three months later. Quickly, without scandal. Inna demanded nothing — no money, no property. She only wanted freedom.
She threw herself into work. She rented a small apartment in the city center. Bright, cozy, hers. A place where no one would say she was temporary. Where no one would criticize her every move.
A friend dropped by a week after the move. She brought cake and wine.
“So, how’s the new life?”
Inna poured wine into glasses and smiled.
“Excellent. You know, I don’t even regret it.”
“Not at all?”
“Not at all. The only thing I regret is that I didn’t leave earlier. Right after my mother-in-law’s first remark.”
“And Alexander?”
“What about Alexander? He called a couple of times. Asked me to come back. Said his mother wouldn’t interfere anymore.”
“And?”
“And I refused. Because it’s not about my mother-in-law. It’s about him. He didn’t protect me. He called me temporary. No apology can fix that.”
Her friend nodded.
“That’s right. A husband should be on his wife’s side. Otherwise, what’s the point of marriage?”
“Exactly.”
They clinked glasses and drank. Inna looked out the window. The sun was shining outside, the city was living its life. And she had her whole life ahead of her. Without a toxic mother-in-law. Without a mama’s boy husband. Just herself. Free, independent, happy.
Six months later, Inna met another man. Dmitry. He lived separately from his parents, in his own apartment. He was independent, mature. When Inna told him about her past marriage, Dmitry shook his head.
“A mother is important. But a wife is more important. If a man gets married, he should protect his family. Not hide behind his mother’s skirt.”
Inna smiled. Yes. That was exactly how it should be.
Alexander stayed living with Victoria Sergeyevna. His mother was pleased — the unwanted daughter-in-law was gone, and her son was hers alone again. She made him breakfast, cleaned the apartment, controlled his every step. Sometimes Alexander thought about Inna. He remembered her smile, her laughter. He understood that he had made a mistake, but there was nothing he could do to get her back. Inna had left. Forever. And he stayed. With his mother. Just as he wanted. Only somehow, he was not happy at all.
