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“Do you even understand that my son is giving up the last of what he has?” Alina Vitoldovna’s voice rang through the phone so loudly that Veronika had to pull the phone away from her ear.
“What do you mean?” she asked calmly, although she already knew the answer. Alina Vitoldovna regularly called with the same accusation, almost as if she envied her.
“Vitya sends you huge amounts of money for his daughter, and you can’t even provide receipts! Where are you spending it?”
Veronika took a deep breath, counting to five the way her friend had advised her. Outside the window, dawn had barely broken, and four-year-old Lyuba was still asleep in her little bed. Friday morning had gone wrong from the very start.
“Alina Vitoldovna, it is six in the morning. I have to leave in an hour to take Lyuba to kindergarten and get to work on time,” Veronika tried to speak calmly, though everything inside her was boiling. “Seven thousand rubles is not a huge amount of money. Do you have any idea how much children’s clothes, food, toys, and kindergarten fees cost?”
“Don’t try to confuse me!” her former mother-in-law snapped. “My dear Vitenka works like an ox, and you waste his money on who knows what! I demand a report on your expenses! All receipts from last month! And don’t even think about making excuses!”
Veronika closed her eyes. This was how almost every conversation with her former mother-in-law had begun ever since she and Vitya divorced two years ago. Two years of freedom — though, in truth, it had not turned out to be so free after all.
“Alina Vitoldovna, let’s discuss this later. I need to get my daughter ready.”
“You’re always dodging!” the mother-in-law refused to calm down. “Vitya says you’ve started dressing up, that you bought yourself a new jacket. With his money, right? With the child support?”
At that moment, sleepy Lyuba entered the room, holding a plush rabbit in her hands, and Veronika smiled softly at her daughter.
“I have to go, Alina Vitoldovna. Goodbye,” she pressed the button to end the call without waiting for an answer.
“Mommy, was that Grandma Alina calling?” Lyuba asked, climbing onto her mother’s lap.
“Yes, sweetheart. She… sent you her greetings,” Veronika lied, hugging her daughter.
Veronika remembered how it had all begun. Four years ago, she had married Vitya, sincerely believing that she had met the love of her life. Tall, with attentive brown eyes and slightly curly hair, he had seemed perfect to her. True, even back then her friends had warned her: his relationship with his mother was far too strange. But does a girl in love ever listen to sensible advice?
“Get ready, Lyubochka, we have to go to kindergarten,” Veronika kissed the top of her daughter’s head. “Today they’re making your favorite breakfast — an omelet with cheese!”
The workday dragged on endlessly. Veronika sat at her desk in the office of the construction company, reviewing documents, but her thoughts kept returning to the morning conversation. Her phone vibrated — another message from Alina Vitoldovna:
“I’m waiting for the receipts by this evening. If you don’t provide them, we’ll act through the court. Vitya has the right to know.”
“Is your mother-in-law bothering you again?” asked Larisa, her colleague and the only person in the office who knew about Veronika’s situation.
“As usual,” Veronika sighed. “She wants an expense report for seven thousand rubles of child support. Can you imagine? Seven thousand! I spend more than that in a month on speech therapy classes for Lyuba alone.”
“And your husband?”
“Former husband,” Veronika corrected her. “And what about him? As usual: ‘Mom is right, it’s not a small amount of money, you should report how you spend it.’ Funny thing is, when we lived together, he didn’t think anything needed to be spent on the child at all. He used to say she was still little, what could she possibly need?”
Veronika remembered how she had had to save on everything when they were still a family. Vitya had insisted that she return to work when Lyuba was not even six months old.
“Why are you sitting at home? You’re not bringing money into the family!”
And at the same time, he gave his entire salary to his mother “for safekeeping.” Only miserable crumbs made it into the family budget.
“I still remember asking him for money for baby food,” Veronika continued, “and he would say, ‘Are you shaking me down for money again? I just gave you some yesterday.’ And that was five hundred rubles for a whole week! Thank God my mother helped.”
“Honestly,” Larisa shook her head. “Why did you put up with it for so long?”
Veronika smiled bitterly.
“I hoped he would change when Lyuba got older. That he would understand how important it is to take care of his own child.”
At that moment, Igor Semyonovich, the company director, entered the office.
“Veronika Andreevna, come to my office in five minutes,” he said and disappeared behind his office door.
“What happened?” Larisa asked anxiously.
“I have no idea,” Veronika shrugged, but everything inside her tightened. Could her mother-in-law have reached her workplace too?
“Please sit down, Veronika Andreevna,” Igor Semyonovich pointed to the chair across from his desk. “I received an interesting phone call. A certain Alina Vitoldovna claims that you are misusing her son’s money. What do you have to say?”
Veronika felt blood rush to her cheeks from shame and outrage.
“Igor Semyonovich, I…”
“Wait,” the director interrupted. “I simply want to understand what is going on. This woman called me twice this morning, threatened complaints and inspections. She said something about seven thousand rubles.”
Veronika sighed and briefly explained the situation. About Vitya, about his mother, about how they reproached her for every penny, and about how she was raising the child alone while receiving minimal child support.
Igor Semyonovich listened attentively and unexpectedly smiled.
“You know, Veronika, I have a daughter your age. And she is in a similar situation. I know firsthand how difficult it is for single mothers.”
He opened a desk drawer and took out a folder.
“I have two pieces of news for you. First: starting Monday, you are moving to a new department with a thirty percent salary increase. Second: our company has introduced a support program for employees with children — a flexible schedule and partial compensation for kindergarten fees.”
Veronika could not believe her ears.
“Igor Semyonovich, I… I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything. You are a good employee, and this promotion is deserved. As for your former mother-in-law,” he smiled, “tell her that if she calls again, I will be forced to contact the legal department for protection against harassment.”
Veronika left his office with her heart pounding. Could things really be starting to change for the better?
That evening, while picking Lyuba up from kindergarten, Veronika met Svetlana, the mother of Mishka from Lyuba’s group. They had once been friends with Vitya as families, but after the divorce, Svetlana was the only one who continued communicating with Veronika.
“Can you imagine,” Svetlana began when they went outside, “yesterday I saw your ex in a new car. Such an SUV! Mishka’s mouth dropped open.”
Veronika raised her eyebrows in surprise.
“A new car? He said he could barely make ends meet…”
“Oh, come on,” Svetlana waved it off. “Seryozha said Vitya was promoted to department head. Now he earns three times more.”
Veronika stopped dead in her tracks.
“What? And when did that happen?”
“About two months ago,” Svetlana shrugged. “You didn’t know?”
Everything inside her began to boil. Two months! For two months Vitya had been receiving a huge salary, yet he continued to pay a miserable seven thousand rubles in child support — and still had the nerve to demand reports!
“Thank you for telling me,” Veronika squeezed her daughter’s hand tighter. “Lyubochka, we need to go home.”
That evening, after putting her daughter to bed, Veronika called her mother.
“Mom, can you imagine? Vitya bought a new car and got a promotion, but he didn’t increase the child support.”
Marina Pavlovna, Veronika’s mother, sighed.
“I told you from the very beginning what a greedy man he was. But you kept saying, ‘love, love.’ Remember how at the wedding his mother demanded that we pay eighty percent of the expenses? And how he counted every penny when you lived together?”
“I know, Mom,” Veronika sighed. “But what should I do now?”
“What should you do? File a lawsuit, that’s what! He is obligated to pay twenty-five percent of his salary, not these crumbs.”
Veronika thought about it. Perhaps her mother was right. It was time to stop being afraid and start fighting for Lyuba’s rights.
The next day, a new employee appeared in the office — Pavel, who had been transferred from a branch in another city. Tall, with a friendly smile and attentive eyes, he immediately won over the whole team.
“Veronika, could you show our new colleague how everything works here?” Igor Semyonovich asked.
While giving him a tour of the office, Veronika learned that Pavel was also divorced and had a ten-year-old son who lived with his mother.
“It must be hard not seeing your son often,” Veronika said.
“It isn’t easy,” Pavel agreed. “But I try to spend every weekend and vacation with him. And of course, I help financially. It can be difficult with money sometimes, but a child is sacred.”
Veronika involuntarily compared him with Vitya, who saw his daughter once a month, and even then reluctantly.
That evening, after work, she went to a legal consultation. She talked for a long time about the situation, showed documents, and listened to advice.
“So here’s the plan,” lawyer Elena summarized. “We need proof of his new income. Photos of the car, witness testimony about the promotion, bank statements if you can obtain them. Then we file for recalculation of child support.”
“And what if it doesn’t work?” Veronika hesitated.
“It will work,” Elena answered confidently. “I’ve been handling cases like this for years. Men often try to hide income, but the court is usually on the side of the children.”
At home, Veronika made an action plan. The first point was to gather evidence. The second was to talk to Vitya honestly.
“We need to talk,” Veronika said to her former husband when he came to visit their daughter on Saturday.
Lyuba was playing in her room while they sat in the kitchen. Vitya looked prosperous: a new shirt, expensive watch, confident expression.
“About what?” he demonstratively looked at his watch. “I don’t have much time.”
“About your new position and salary,” Veronika answered calmly. “And about why the child support has stayed the same.”
Vitya’s face changed sharply.
“Who told you that? Svetka, right? She’s always sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong!”
“It doesn’t matter,” Veronika cut him off. “What matters is that you are hiding your income and underpaying child support.”
“Have you lost your mind?” Vitya was indignant. “I already give you the last of what I have! I have loans, a mortgage!”
“A mortgage?” Veronika repeated. “For a new apartment? Wonderful. Another piece of evidence for court.”
Vitya jumped up.
“What court? Are you completely crazy? My mother was right — all you think about is how to squeeze money out of me!”
“Not out of you, but for Lyuba,” Veronika corrected him. “Those are different things. And yes, I am filing a claim in court to recalculate child support. You must pay twenty-five percent of your real income, not the crumbs you are giving now.”
Vitya turned crimson.
“So that’s how it is? Then I won’t see Lyuba at all! Let’s see how you like that!”
“Blackmail?” Veronika asked calmly. “Excellent, another piece of evidence for court. And yes, Lyuba needs a special speech therapy group. Five thousand a month. Either you add that amount to the child support, or we go to court.”
Vitya silently grabbed his jacket and ran out of the apartment without even saying goodbye to his daughter.
The week passed in tension. Veronika collected documents for court, worked, and tried not to show Lyuba that anything was wrong. Pavel turned out to be an excellent colleague and quickly became a friend — he gave useful work advice and supported her in the situation with her ex-husband.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “The court is always on the side of the children. And if your ex really got promoted, he won’t be able to hide it.”
On Thursday, Alina Vitoldovna sent a message:
“Vitya said you’re planning to sue. Come to your senses before it’s too late. We still won’t let you squeeze money out of him.”
Veronika did not answer. Before, messages like that would have shaken her, but now she felt a strange calm. As if she had finally stepped onto the right path.
On Friday, she took Lyuba to a trial lesson at the speech therapy group. The girl liked it very much, and the teacher said that with regular classes, her pronunciation problems would disappear quickly.
“Mommy, are we going to come here?” Lyuba asked as they walked home.
“Of course, sweetheart,” Veronika smiled.
That evening, Vitya called.
“Are you seriously going to sue?” Anxiety could be heard in his voice.
“Absolutely seriously,” Veronika replied. “The claim has already been filed.”
“And how much do you want?”
“Not me. The law. Twenty-five percent of your income.”
“You’ve become shameless!” Vitya exploded. “I… you… Mother was right, I should never have married you!”
“I agree with that,” Veronika answered calmly. “You shouldn’t have. It would have been better for both of us if it had never happened. But Lyuba is our daughter, and you are obligated to support her.”
Vitya hung up. A minute later, a message arrived from Alina Vitoldovna:
“You will regret this. We will still prove that you are wasting the money on yourself, not on the child.”
The court day arrived unexpectedly quickly. Veronika was nervous, but she tried to stay confident. Pavel had promised to support her and waited in the corridor while she was in the courtroom.
Vitya came with his mother and a lawyer. They immediately began proving that there had been no promotion, that the car had been bought on credit, and that the new apartment was an inheritance from a distant relative.
The judge, Elena Alexandrovna, an elderly woman with a penetrating gaze, listened carefully to both sides.
“Do you have evidence of the defendant’s increased income?” she asked Veronika.
“Yes, Your Honor,” Veronika handed over a folder of documents. “Here are photographs of the new car worth more than three million rubles, information about the apartment purchase, as well as witness statements from the defendant’s colleagues about his promotion.”
“This is all lies!” Alina Vitoldovna exclaimed. “They conspired against my son!”
“Silence in the courtroom,” the judge said sternly. “Or I will have to remove you.”
At that moment, the door opened, and a middle-aged man entered the courtroom.
“My apologies for being late, Your Honor. Nikolai Petrov, the defendant’s colleague. I was summoned as a witness.”
Vitya turned pale when he saw him.
“Do you work with the defendant?” the judge asked.
“Yes, Your Honor. I am his deputy.”
“And what position does the defendant hold?”
“He is the head of the logistics department at our transport company. Two months ago, he was promoted with a threefold salary increase.”
“That’s slander!” Vitya jumped up. “He’s jealous of me!”
“Really?” Nikolai asked calmly. “What about the company-wide email announcing your promotion? Or the corporate party held for that reason? Or your boastful stories about your new salary? Your Honor, I have a copy of the promotion order.”
The judge carefully studied the document.
“So your real income is 140,000 rubles a month, not 28,000 as you stated in the declaration?”
Vitya remained silent, looking at the floor.
“Your Honor,” Nikolai continued, “I would also like to report that the defendant repeatedly said in the office that he was deliberately hiding his income so he would not have to pay child support. He said his former wife ‘did not deserve his money.’”
Alina Vitoldovna jumped up.
“This is all a lie! My son is an honest man! This woman,” she pointed at Veronika, “just wants to profit from him!”
“One more disruption of order, and you will be removed from the courtroom,” the judge said sternly. “I have enough evidence.”
Two hours later, the court issued its decision: to increase child support to 35,000 rubles a month and collect the debt for the two months during which Vitya had hidden his income.
Leaving the courtroom, Veronika felt strangely empty. There was no joy, no feeling of victory — only relief that it was over.
Pavel was waiting for her in the corridor with a bouquet of daisies.
“Congratulations! I knew justice would prevail.”
“Thank you for supporting me,” Veronika smiled. “Without you, I wouldn’t have dared.”
They left the courthouse together. Outside, an unexpected meeting awaited them — Vitya and his mother were standing by the car.
“Satisfied?” Vitya asked bitterly. “Got what you wanted?”
“Vitya, this wasn’t me,” Veronika answered calmly. “This is the law. And this money is not for me, but for Lyuba. For her education, development, and health.”
“And who is this?” Alina Vitoldovna nodded toward Pavel. “Already found yourself a new sponsor?”
“He is my friend,” Veronika replied. “And unlike some people, he understands that children are a responsibility, not a burden.”
“Who are you to lecture me!” Alina Vitoldovna flared up. “He is my son! I raised him! And all you do is pull money out of him!”
“Alina Vitoldovna,” Pavel said calmly, “don’t you think that this exact attitude toward money is what you instilled in your son? That money matters more than relationships, more than a child?”
Alina Vitoldovna gasped with indignation, while Vitya unexpectedly lowered his head.
“Let’s go, Mom. Everything has already been decided.”
They got into the car and drove away, while Veronika and Pavel went to pick Lyuba up from kindergarten.
Three months passed. Veronika received another promotion at work and could now afford to rent a more spacious apartment. Lyuba attended speech therapy classes and made progress — her speech became clearer and clearer.
Vitya paid child support regularly, although he did not try to see his daughter more often. Alina Vitoldovna stopped calling and demanding reports, as if she had finally understood the futility of her accusations.
One weekend, Veronika, Lyuba, and Marina Pavlovna were relaxing in the park. Pavel and his son Misha joined them — over the past months, they had become frequent guests in their home.
“Mom, look, Daddy is coming!” Lyuba suddenly exclaimed, pointing toward the path.
Indeed, Vitya was approaching them. He looked unusually uncertain.
“Hello,” he said, stopping in front of them. “I… wanted to talk.”
Marina Pavlovna pressed her lips together but said nothing. Pavel nodded understandingly to Veronika and led the children toward the rides.
“I’m listening,” Veronika said.
“I wanted to apologize,” Vitya said unexpectedly. “You were right. I was… wrong about Lyuba. And about the money.”
Veronika raised her eyebrows in surprise.
“What changed?”
“I met a woman,” Vitya admitted. “She is raising her son alone. And I saw how difficult it is. And I also spoke to a psychologist. He explained a lot to me about my relationship with my mother and… in general, I want to be a better father to Lyuba. May I see her more often?”
Veronika did not know what to say. She had imagined this conversation so many times, but now she felt lost.
“Of course you may,” she finally said. “Lyuba will be happy. She misses her father.”
Vitya nodded gratefully.
“And also… I would like to pay for her classes completely. Not only speech therapy, but any other activities she likes.”
“What will your mother say?” Veronika could not help asking.
“Nothing anymore,” Vitya smirked. “I finally learned to say no to her. It’s time to grow up, right?”
Veronika nodded. She felt neither love nor hatred toward her former husband — only a calm understanding that everything had changed and life was moving on.
At that moment, Pavel returned with the children. Lyuba joyfully ran up to her father, and for the first time in a long while, he sincerely hugged his daughter.
“Daddy, did you come to visit me?” Lyuba asked.
“Yes, sweetheart. And now I’ll come often. Very often,” Vitya crouched down, looking into his daughter’s eyes. “If you want, we can go to the zoo next weekend.”
Lyuba’s face lit up with joy.
“Really? Can Misha come with us?”
Vitya looked uncertainly at the boy standing beside Pavel.
“I think we can arrange that,” he said cautiously, glancing at Veronika.
“Excellent idea,” she smiled. “The children will have more fun together.”
Marina Pavlovna, watching the scene from the bench, said quietly:
“Well, he finally came to his senses.”
Veronika approached her mother and whispered:
“People can change, Mom.”
“Let’s hope it lasts,” Marina Pavlovna remarked skeptically, though hope appeared in her eyes.
A week later, Vitya really did take Lyuba and Misha to the zoo. Veronika could hardly believe such changes, but gradually she began to trust her former husband. He not only paid child support regularly but also offered additional help himself — he paid for the art class Lyuba had long dreamed of, bought her a new bed and toys.
One evening, while Veronika was putting her daughter to bed, Lyuba suddenly asked:
“Mom, why doesn’t Grandma Alina call anymore? Is she angry with me?”
Veronika sat down on the edge of the bed.
“No, sweetheart. Adults sometimes just have difficulties communicating. But if you want, we can call her.”
“No,” Lyuba shook her head. “She always shouted. I didn’t like it.”
Veronika kissed her daughter on the forehead.
“Sleep, my dear. Tomorrow we have an interesting day ahead.”
A few days later, Veronika ran into Alina Vitoldovna at the store. She prepared herself for an unpleasant conversation, but when her mother-in-law saw her, she only nodded dryly and walked past. It was a strange but relieving feeling — as if a heavy chapter of life had finally closed.
Things at work were going wonderfully. Veronika headed a new project, and Igor Semyonovich was generous with praise. Her relationship with Pavel grew into something more than simple friendship, although neither of them rushed things.
At the end of summer, when Lyuba was preparing to move into the preschool preparatory group, an unexpected phone call came.
“Veronika, it’s Vitya. I wanted to talk about Lyuba’s future.”
“Did something happen?” she asked cautiously.
“No, everything is fine. It’s just… Natasha and I have decided to get married. And I thought we should discuss how this will affect Lyuba.”
Veronika felt a strange calm. Six months earlier, news of another woman in her former husband’s life would have caused anxiety, but now she was glad that Vitya had found happiness.
“Of course, let’s discuss it,” she agreed. “It is important for Lyuba to know that she has family on both sides.”
The three of them met — Veronika, Vitya, and his fiancée Natasha, a pleasant woman with kind eyes. They discussed how best to introduce Lyuba to the new family, how to spend holidays, and how to resolve possible conflicts.
“I’m glad you met a good person,” Veronika said sincerely when they were saying goodbye.
“And I’m glad you found the strength to fight,” Vitya answered unexpectedly. “Otherwise, I would have remained a mama’s boy who didn’t understand the value of family.”
The first of September turned out sunny. Veronika, Pavel, Vitya with Natasha, and Marina Pavlovna stood in the park, watching Lyuba and Misha ride the carousel.
“I never would have thought we could gather together so peacefully,” Veronika admitted to Pavel.
“Life is full of surprises,” he smiled, putting his arm around her shoulders. “But the main thing is that Lyuba is happy. Now she has a big family.”
Veronika looked at her daughter, whose ringing laughter carried through the park, and thought about the road she had traveled. Two years earlier, she had been an exhausted woman who feared every call from her mother-in-law and counted every penny. Now a new path was opening before her — with self-confidence, financial stability, and people who truly valued her.
“So when are you planning to introduce me to your parents?” she suddenly asked Pavel.
“Whenever you want,” he replied. “They have long dreamed of meeting the woman who taught me to believe in family again.”
Veronika smiled and squeezed his hand tighter. The bright sun came out from behind the clouds, illuminating the park with golden light. Ahead lay an entire life full of new possibilities and, most importantly, love — real love, without reproaches or counting money.
“Mom, look how high I can go!” Lyuba shouted, swinging on the swings.
“I see, sweetheart!” Veronika answered. “Fly higher!”
And Lyuba soared upward, happy and free — just like her mother, who had finally found the strength to defend her right to a dignified life.
