Vadim threw his keys onto the hall table with a noise that sounded like a challenge to a duel. He didn’t even take off his shoes, just stood frozen in the doorway, arms crossed. Marina stood still in the middle of the room, holding an open passport—the same one she hoped to fill with tickets to Montenegro that morning. Tickets for just the two of them.
“Vadim, are you serious right now?” Marina tried to keep her voice steady, but she was boiling inside. “We spent half a year saving up for this hotel. We dreamed of peace and quiet. Of a sea with no one around telling us how to live.”
“Mom already bought a sunhat, Marisha. And Dad booked the room next door. Can you imagine how disappointed they’d be? They’re sixty-five, when will they ever get the chance again?”
“That’s exactly why they should have asked us, not just dumped their plans on us!” Marina took a step closer. “Or, more to the point, you shouldn’t have agreed behind my back.”
“I’m the head of the family,” Vadim stuck out his chin, “and I decided this will be a family trip. Either that, or pack your bags. I’m not joking. I’m tired of your tantrums and your constant disapproval of my mom.”
Marina looked at him as if she was seeing him for the first time. Ten years of marriage, a shared mortgage, shared routines—and suddenly, an ultimatum that reeked of cheap blackmail.
“Alright,” she said quietly. “If that’s your final decision, then I choose the second option.”
“What?” Vadim faltered. His confidence wavered. “What do you mean ‘the second’?”
“Exactly what I said. I’m going to Mom’s. Right now.”
“Marina, don’t be ridiculous! Where are you going at this hour? Our flight’s in three days!”
“Well, go with your parents then. You can rub your mom’s back with sunscreen and listen to your dad’s stories about fishing in ‘78. Sounds like your dream vacation.”
She turned around, pulled a big travel suitcase out of the closet, and threw it onto the bed. Clothes flew inside in a jumble: sundresses, jeans, her favorite pajamas. Vadim stood in the doorway, his face growing redder by the second.
“You’ll regret this. My mother will never forgive you. She’ll say you left me in a tough moment!”
“A tough moment is when someone is sick, Vadim. When your husband acts like a spoiled first-grader, that’s a moment of realization.”
The taxi drove Marina through the night city to her mom’s. Vera Nikolaevna didn’t ask any questions. She just opened the door, saw the suitcase, and hugged her daughter.
“Tea?” she asked, once the suitcase had settled in the corner of the old childhood room.
“No, Mom. Let’s get straight to it. I think I’m getting divorced.”
They sat out on the balcony. The night air was filled with the scent of petunias and dust.
“Is this because of the vacation with Irina Petrovna?” Vera Nikolaevna raised an eyebrow.
“It’s because he forced me to choose, Mom. ‘My way or leave.’ You know, I just realized that in ten years, it’s never once been my way. We bought the car he wanted. We painted the walls the color his mother approved. We didn’t even get a cat because apparently he might be allergic. And now the vacation, too.”
“Vadim’s definitely a man of habit,” her mother sighed. “But ultimatums in marriage are the worst. What do you plan to do next?”
— I don’t know. I just want to enjoy the silence. Tomorrow is Saturday, I’ll finally get some real sleep. And then… then I’m going on vacation. Alone.
By morning, my phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Vadim called every fifteen minutes, and then the messages from my mother-in-law started rolling in.
“Marina, this is not serious. Vadim is in a terrible state, his blood pressure shot up. How could you do this to elderly people?”
Marina turned her phone face down and headed for the kitchen. Her mom was already there, spreading out old photographs on the table.
“Do you remember when your father and I first went to Gagra?” Vera Nikolaevna smiled. “He wanted to take his sister and her five kids. I told him, ‘Misha, if they come, I’ll just stay home and paint all the stools pink.’”
“And what did he do?”
“He went alone. Came back three days later. Said that without me, even the sea didn’t taste salty. He never brought up that idea again. But Vadim… Vadim’s different. He clings to his mother’s skirt way too tightly.”
The doorbell rang. It wasn’t Vadim. Standing on the threshold was Irina Petrovna, the mother-in-law, wearing that new hat with the huge brim that looked completely ridiculous on her.
“May I come in?” Her voice was unusually soft.
“Come in, Irina Petrovna,” Marina stepped aside to let her into the hallway.
The mother-in-law walked into the room, looked around, and sat carefully on the edge of an armchair.
“Marina, really, is this some kind of kindergarten? Ruining a family over some trip? Vadik is beside himself. He just wanted to do something nice. For us all to be together, like one big family…”
“Irina Petrovna, a big family is wonderful, when everyone has their own space. Did you ask me if I wanted to spend my one vacation a year listening to your housekeeping advice?”
“What advice? I just wanted to help! You don’t even sauté your soup base the right way, I can see it…”
“Exactly!” Marina threw up her hands. “That’s what I’m talking about. Vadim gave me an ultimatum. He said if I don’t go with you all, I can just stay here forever. I accepted his terms. What’s the problem?”
“But the tickets! The money will go to waste!”
“You can return my ticket. Or take a neighbor instead. I don’t care.”
“You’ve gotten so tough, Marina,” Irina Petrovna pursed her lips. “You used to be so much more agreeable. Is this your mother’s influence on you?”
Vera Nikolaevna, standing in the kitchen doorway, smirked:
“No, Irina Petrovna. What’s influencing her is plain common sense. The girl is thirty-two, and you’re still deciding what color swimsuit she should wear.”
“We care about her!”
“Caring means asking ‘how are you?’, not ‘why haven’t you made my son any cutlets yet?’”
The mother-in-law stood up, adjusting her hat.
“Very well. If that’s the way you want it… Vadik will come with us. And I’ll find him such company there that he won’t even remember you exist. Just you wait and see.”
When the door clicked shut behind her, Marina felt a strange relief. It was as if an old, heavy rug that had suffocated her for years had finally been lifted from her shoulders.
The next three days passed in a strange fog. Marina went to work, ignored her husband’s messages, and arranged a refund for her share of the vacation through the agency — luckily, the reservation was in her name and she paid for it with her own card.
On the evening before the ‘family flight,’ Vadim showed up in person. He looked disheveled and angry.
“I returned your ticket,” he lied as he walked into his mother-in-law’s apartment. “You’ll get pennies back. Happy now?”
“Don’t lie, Vadim. I took care of the refund myself this morning. The money will be back on my account.”
Vadim hesitated. His main ace—financial pressure—didn’t work this time.
“So you’re serious? I’m flying out tomorrow at eight in the morning. With my parents. This is your last chance to apologize and come with us.”
“Vadim, have a seat,” Marina pointed to a chair. “We need to talk, and not about the vacation.”
“About what? All our problems are just because you’re so stubborn.”
“No. The problem is you don’t see me as a person. I’m just a functional addition to your life—for you, a wife who’s supposed to fit in with your parents, your plans, and your schedule. Have you even once in the past year asked what I want?”
“I work! I support us!” he shouted.
“We both work, Vadim. And we split the mortgage. But somehow the only voices that matter are yours and Irina Petrovna’s. You said, ‘Either with my parents, or you live with your mom forever.’ I left. You got what you wanted. Now fly. Enjoy your vacation.”
“So what—is this it?” For the first time, panic crept into his voice. “All because of some trip?”
“Not because of the trip. Because you were ready to throw me out just so you wouldn’t upset your mother. You chose her feelings over mine. That’s the answer to every question about our marriage.”
Vadim stared at the floor in silence for a long time.
“Mom said you just overworked yourself. That I’m supposed to be tough now.”
“She always says that. And you always listen. You know, I actually bought another ticket for myself.”
“Where to?”
“Kislovodsk. To a resort. Alone. I’ll walk the trails, drink narzan mineral water, and be silent. For a whole week.”
Vadim stood up and pulled straight his jacket.
“Well, you’re an idiot. Good luck finding another fool who’ll put up with you like I did.”
He stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Marina closed her eyes and let out a breath.
Kislovodsk greeted her with cool air and the scent of pine. On the first day, Marina turned off her phone. She wandered through the park, gazed at the mountains, and caught herself thinking that she was lacking… nothing. She didn’t miss Vadim whining about his sore feet. She didn’t miss her mother-in-law’s comments that ‘the air is too humid for her bronchi.’
On the fourth day, she sat on a bench by the ‘Glass Stream’ and read a book. A man in his forties with a camera around his neck approached her.
“Excuse me, you fit so perfectly into the scenery, may I photograph you for my ‘Silence’ series?”
Marina smiled.
“Only if you promise not to give me advice on how to tie my scarf afterwards.”
The man laughed.
“I promise. I never give advice unless someone asks. I’m here to escape other people’s advice, too. My ex-wife thought I should become a bank director, but I just love photographing moss on rocks.”
They got to talking. His name was Alexey. He was easygoing, open, nothing like Vadim. They talked for two hours—about books, about the mountains, about how important it is sometimes to just walk away in order to find yourself.
“You know, Marina,” he said as they parted, “sometimes an ultimatum isn’t the end but the best gift fate can give you. It shows you where love ends and when you’re just tending to someone else’s needs.”
When Marina returned home, the apartment greeted her with silence and the smell of stale laundry. Vadim had come back from vacation a day early. He was sitting in the kitchen in front of a dirty plate.
“How was your trip?” Marina asked calmly, setting down her suitcase.
Vadim looked up at her. The shadows under his eyes had grown darker.
“Terrible. My mom argued with my dad on the very first night because he ordered the wrong beer. Dad then gave everyone the silent treatment for three days. Mom cried and demanded that I make peace between them. Then she got a headache, and we spent two days stuck in the room because ‘the sun was too much for her, and she can’t be left alone.'”
“I’m sorry,” Marina said, heading to the fridge and grabbing some yogurt.
“She asked where you were. I said you were on a business trip.”
“Why? You should’ve told the truth. That I chose ‘forever at Mom’s place.'”
Vadim jumped up from his chair.
“Marina, I was an idiot. Do you understand? Sitting in that damn hotel room, listening to their never-ending complaints about each other and about me, I suddenly realized… If you don’t come back, I’ll spend my whole life trapped between their arguments and Mom’s hats. I don’t want that.”
He came over and tried to take her hands, but Marina gently pulled away.
“Vadim, just realizing that isn’t enough.”
“I know. I’ve already talked to them. I told them we will live our own lives. That they’ll return the keys to our apartment.”
“And what did Irina Petrovna say?”
“That I’m an ungrateful son. That you bewitched me. But for the first time in my life, I didn’t care what she said.”
Marina looked at him. There was no longer that old confidence of victory in his eyes. Instead, there was uncertainty and a glimmer of hope.
“I can’t promise everything will be fine tomorrow, Vadim. We’ve got a lot to talk about. And maybe we should see a therapist. Because your ‘victory’ that night almost cost us ten years of our lives.”
“I’ll do anything. Just please don’t leave again.”
Marina looked out the window. An old linden tree was blooming in the yard. Life was moving forward, but now she knew for sure: no ultimatum would ever again make her pack her bags against her will. Because sometimes, in order to save a family, you have to find the courage to almost lose it first.
“Alright,” she said. “First, wash the dishes. And let’s make a list of house rules. Rule number one: No more surprise visits from parents on our vacations.”
Vadim nodded and obediently reached for the dish sponge. It was a small step, but Marina now knew she would decide for herself which direction to go.
A month later, they were sitting in the airport again. Just the two of them. Vadim’s phone beeped—a message from his mother arrived.
“Vadik, I saw the forecast, it’s going to rain. Be sure to wear a warm jacket and make sure Marina doesn’t drink cold water.”
Vadim glanced at the screen, then looked over at Marina. She raised an eyebrow inquiringly.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“Oh, nothing much,” Vadim smiled, slipping his phone into his bag without even looking. “Just the weather forecast. They say it’s going to be sunny. Only sunshine.”
Marina smiled back and slipped her hand into his. This time, the tickets were just right. And the path they had chosen belonged to them alone—free of unnecessary spectators and unwanted advice. And Mom… well, she could wait. After all, she had a new hat and her own summer plans, too.