You need it, so you buy your mother gifts yourself. That woman has never said one kind word to me, so you’ll have to manage without my help.”
“Ksyusha, you won’t believe it! Mom has decided to celebrate her birthday in grand style!” Vitalya burst into the kitchen, waving his phone. “Fifty-nine is a respectable age, after all!”
Ksenia did not even lift her head from her laptop, continuing to sort through work documents.
“And what’s so surprising about that? She celebrates in grand style every year,” she said, taking a sip of tea. “It is not even an anniversary, yet there is so much pomp.”
“That’s not the point!” Vitalya sat down across from her and leaned forward. “She even made a gift list for all the guests! Can you imagine? A personal assignment for every relative! So nobody gives her some nonsense, the way people often do. Aunt Galya is supposed to buy gold earrings, Uncle Styopa a sushi serving set, and not just any set, but the best one! And so on!”
Ksenia finally looked up from her laptop and stared at her husband.
“Vital, are you serious? This is no longer a birthday. It’s some kind of auction. And what has she ‘assigned’ to us?”
Vitalya was visibly nervous, tapping his fingers on the table.
“You see… she gave me a special mission. She said her living room needs refreshing and that it is time… time to replace the upholstered furniture,” he cleared his throat. “Completely.”
“Completely?” Ksenia slammed her laptop shut. “She has a three-seat sofa, two armchairs, and an ottoman in there! That is a fortune!”
“I know, I know!” Vitalya spread his hands. “But you understand, she has already told everyone that her son is going to give her that kind of gift! She said she had more or less chosen a set at Furniture Paradise for one hundred and fifty thousand! But that is only the sofa and one armchair! The other armchair and ottoman would have to be matched separately!”
Ksenia slowly set her cup aside and crossed her arms over her chest.
“And what did you say to her?”
“Well… I said we would think about it,” Vitalya said uncertainly.
“We?” Ksenia raised her eyebrows. “Since when is my opinion taken into account in conversations with your mother?”
Vitalya shifted awkwardly in his chair.
“Ksyush, I have fifty thousand saved up, but that is not enough,” he looked at his wife with pleading eyes. “Maybe you could add the rest? You have that bonus… and you had some other savings too…”
Ksenia looked at her husband as if he had lost his mind.
“You are suggesting that I give one hundred thousand rubles to a woman who, in three years of our marriage, has not once called me by my name? A woman who introduces me to acquaintances right to my face as ‘this girl’ and her son’s ‘temporary fling’?”
“She is just joking…” Vitalya muttered. “And besides, it is not for her personally. It is for a gift…”
“Vital!” Ksenia leaned forward. “Last month, when we were at your mother’s for dinner, she asked you whether it was time to find a ‘normal wife capable of giving you an heir,’ right in front of me! Have you forgotten that?”
“She said it as a joke…” Vitalya looked away.
“A week ago, she called you and said she saw me with a colleague in a café and that I, I quote, ‘behaved like a street slut.’ Was that also a joke?”
“Ksyush, none of that matters!” Vitalya stood up and began pacing around the kitchen. “What matters is that I have already promised! Do you understand? I gave my word!”
“You gave your word with your own money, not mine!” Ksenia snapped. “You have fifty thousand? Then buy her something within that amount!”
“Ksyusha!” A pleading note appeared in Vitalya’s voice. “You don’t understand! She has already ordered the catalogue, chosen the model, the upholstery color! I can’t let her down!”
“And you can let me down?” Ksenia stood too. “For three years I have endured contempt and insults, and I never said one word against you! But there is a limit! I will not give a single kopeck toward a gift for a person who does not respect me!”
“That is selfishness!” Vitalya shook his head. “Plain female selfishness! I always congratulate your mother, by the way!”
“My mother does not demand such expensive birthday gifts from you and does not call you ‘that person’! She never asks for anything at all!” Ksenia raised her voice. “More than that, when we visited my parents, they gave us a vacation trip to the sea, in case you forgot!”
“I haven’t forgotten!” Vitalya hissed through his teeth. “But that is not what we are talking about now! I need this money, Ksyush! I’ll pay you back, I promise!”
“No!” Ksenia grabbed her laptop and headed toward the living room. “Do not even think about it! You need it, so you solve this problem yourself! I am not taking part in this!”
“So that’s how it is?” Vitalya shouted after her. “Fine! I will find a way!”
“Are you threatening me?” Ksenia turned around in the doorway. “Wonderful! So your mother’s sofa is worth more than respect for your wife! Just wonderful!”
The morning began with tense silence. Vitalya sat at the kitchen table, studying his phone intently, while Ksenia made breakfast, trying not to meet his eyes. The previous evening’s conversation had left an unpleasant aftertaste.
“Ksyush, maybe we should still discuss it again?” Vitalya finally broke the silence when his wife placed a plate of fried eggs in front of him. “I thought about it all night and realized we need to find a compromise.”
“What compromise?” Ksenia sat opposite him with a cup of coffee. “Everything is perfectly clear here. You promised your mother a gift you cannot afford financially. That is your problem, not mine.”
“But we are family!” Vitalya put down his fork. “In a family, all problems are solved together!”
“Exactly!” Ksenia nodded. “Family! Is your mother part of our family? Has she ever treated me like part of the family?”
Vitalya sighed, preparing to offer yet another argument, when his phone rang. The screen showed “Mom.”
“Hi, Mom!” he answered, throwing a quick glance at his wife. “Yes, of course… What? Now? All right, I’ll wait!”
He put down the phone and looked at Ksenia guiltily.
“She’ll stop by in half an hour. She wants to show another catalogue and discuss the details.”
Ksenia silently stood up, collected her cup, and headed out of the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” Vitalya called after her.
“To the bedroom. To work,” she answered curtly. “I have deadlines, and I have neither the desire nor the time to speak with Svetlana Mikhailovna.”
“But that is rude!” Vitalya objected. “She is coming especially for this!”
“Rude is the way she has treated me for the last three years!” Ksenia snapped. “My absence from the kitchen is self-defense. I do not want to be a punching bag again.”
Exactly thirty minutes later, the doorbell rang. Svetlana Mikhailovna entered the apartment with the air of a queen arriving to inspect a distant province.
“Vitalik, darling!” She kissed her son on both cheeks, ignoring the need to take off her shoes. “I brought catalogues! Three different stores, but the best option is at Furniture Paradise, just as I said!”
She walked into the kitchen, leaving traces of street shoes on the floor, and spread glossy brochures across the table.
“And where is… that one?” She made an indefinite gesture with her hand. “Your…”
“Ksenia has a lot of work, Mom!” Vitalya answered, nervously glancing toward the bedroom. “Let’s look at what you chose.”
“Mmm, work…” Svetlana Mikhailovna drawled with obvious sarcasm. “What could be more important than meeting with your husband’s mother? But let’s not dwell on sad things! Look, this set! The perfect combination of color and shape!”
She jabbed her finger at a photograph of a luxurious sofa with two matching armchairs.
“Mom, this is… rather expensive,” Vitalya cautiously remarked when he saw the price tag.
“What do you mean, ‘rather expensive’?” Svetlana Mikhailovna frowned. “Am I asking so much from my only son? At your age, your father had already given me an apartment! And do not look at the price. You can take it on installments!”
“But one hundred and ninety thousand…” Vitalya began.
“And what of it?” his mother interrupted. “You and that… that wife of yours have two salaries! Surely once a year you can make your mother happy?”
At that moment, the bedroom door opened and Ksenia walked into the kitchen. She calmly approached the refrigerator, took out a bottle of water, and, without looking at her mother-in-law, said:
“Hello, Svetlana Mikhailovna.”
“There you are!” Svetlana Mikhailovna looked her daughter-in-law up and down. “Perhaps you will join the discussion? After all, this is a family matter.”
“Thank you, but I am not taking part in choosing the gift,” Ksenia answered calmly. “That is Vitalya’s business.”
“What do you mean, you are not taking part?” her mother-in-law asked in amazement. “You are his wife!”
“Exactly,” Ksenia looked her straight in the eyes for the first time. “I am your son’s wife, not your ATM.”
“Ksyusha!” Vitalya exclaimed. “What are you saying?”
“The truth, darling.” Ksenia headed toward the kitchen exit.
“What truth? It is only…”
“You need it, so you buy your mother gifts yourself. That woman has never said one kind word to me, so you’ll have to manage without my help!”
When the door closed behind Ksenia, Svetlana Mikhailovna sighed theatrically and shook her head.
“So that is how she speaks about her husband’s mother! No, Vitalik, this will not do at all! You must explain to your… I can hardly even bring myself to call her that! But fine. To your wife, that family values are sacred!”
“Yes, Mom,” Vitalya nodded obediently, though a shadow of doubt flickered in his eyes. “I’ll talk to her.”
After Svetlana Mikhailovna left, oppressive tension hung in the apartment. Vitalya wandered from room to room, periodically approaching the bedroom door but never daring to enter. Finally, gathering his courage, he knocked.
“May I?” he asked, opening the door slightly.
Ksenia sat on the edge of the bed with her phone in her hands. When her husband appeared, she quickly locked the screen.
“Why are you asking? This is your room too,” she answered dryly.
Vitalya sat down beside her, keeping some distance.
“Ksyush, you put me in an awkward position in front of Mom,” he began. “Now she thinks that we…”
“That we what?” Ksenia interrupted him. “That we do not agree on finances? That is true. That I do not want to spend my money on someone who despises me? That is also true.”
“Don’t say it like that!” Vitalya grimaced. “She does not despise you. You just have different views on life.”
Ksenia laughed, but there was no joy in her laughter.
“Different views? Calling me a ‘temporary phenomenon’ in front of guests is different views? Criticizing my appearance, my work, my family — is that different views? Vital, open your eyes! Your mother hates me and is doing everything she can to destroy our marriage!”
Vitalya jumped up from the bed and began pacing around the room.
“You are exaggerating! Yes, she can be harsh in her remarks, but she wishes us well!”
“Us?” Ksenia asked. “Maybe you. But definitely not me and not our relationship. And you know what? I am tired of it. For three years I stayed silent while she humiliated me. For three years I smiled and endured her ‘harsh remarks.’ But enough. If you want to buy her a sofa, buy it. But without my money.”
“Where am I supposed to get one hundred thousand? Even one hundred and forty!” Vitalya cried out in despair. “I only have fifty!”
“That is your problem.” Ksenia shrugged. “You can buy something cheaper. You can borrow from friends. You can take out a loan, finally.”
“A loan?” Vitalya stopped in the middle of the room. “That’s an idea…”
The next day, Vitalya came home looking pleased and announced that he had taken out a consumer loan for two hundred thousand rubles. Ksenia listened to the news in silence and then said calmly:
“I hope you understand that you will be paying it back yourself. I am not going to spend my money on a gift for your mother.”
“But we are family!” Vitalya protested. “We have a joint budget!”
“No, Vital,” Ksenia shook her head. “From this moment on, we have separate budgets. You made the decision to take out a loan on your own, without my consent, so you carry the responsibility yourself.”
Vitalya wanted to object, but Ksenia had already left the room.
A week later, Svetlana Mikhailovna’s birthday arrived. Ksenia hesitated for a long time over whether to attend the celebration, but in the end decided that her absence would cause even more problems. She bought a bouquet of flowers — modest but beautiful — and went with Vitalya.
Svetlana Mikhailovna’s apartment was full of guests. Relatives, friends, colleagues — everyone had brought expensive gifts, just as expected. Vitalya solemnly handed his mother an envelope with a receipt for the new furniture. Svetlana Mikhailovna beamed and embraced her son.
“This is what a real man is!” she exclaimed, showing the receipt to the guests. “My son always knows how to make his mother happy!”
When Ksenia’s turn came, she handed over the bouquet and modestly congratulated her mother-in-law. Svetlana Mikhailovna took the flowers with two fingers, as if they were something unpleasant.
“And is that all?” she asked, looking questioningly at her daughter-in-law. “No gift?”
“The flowers are my gift,” Ksenia answered calmly.
“How sweet,” Svetlana Mikhailovna hissed. “Daughters-in-law should give gold, not weeds from the roadside!”
One of the guests tried to ease the atmosphere with a joke, but Svetlana Mikhailovna was already addressing everyone else:
“See how lucky I am with my daughter-in-law? My son buys furniture, and she brings a little bouquet! And who, after that, is a real member of the family?”
Vitalya stood beside her, eyes lowered, and said nothing. Ksenia felt cold determination rising inside her. She looked at her husband, waiting for him to defend her, but he continued stubbornly studying the pattern on the carpet.
At that moment, Ksenia understood that her marriage to Vitalya had come to an end. Not because of his mother, and not even because of the loan. But because of his cowardice and his inability to stand on her side when it truly mattered.
All evening she silently watched Svetlana Mikhailovna accept congratulations and praise her son’s gift. She watched Vitalya smile at his mother and ignore the cutting remarks directed at his wife. And with every minute, her decision became firmer.
Vitalya and Ksenia returned home in complete silence. Sitting in the taxi, Ksenia looked out the window at the lights of the night city rushing past and replayed the events of the past weeks in her mind. Her decision had fully matured.
The next morning, after waiting for Vitalya to leave for work, Ksenia called a lawyer she had found through a colleague a week earlier. It took her less than an hour to clarify all the details about the divorce process and division of property.
“The loan is only in your husband’s name?” the lawyer clarified, listening carefully to her story.
“Yes, entirely in his name,” Ksenia confirmed. “I did not give consent and did not sign any documents.”
“Excellent. If you can prove that the money was spent not on family needs, but on a gift to a third party without your consent, then the loan will remain solely his obligation.”
After the conversation, Ksenia got to work. She gradually transferred her savings to a separate account, gathered important documents, and photographed valuable items in the apartment.
Vitalya, absorbed in his problems with repaying the loan, noticed nothing. The first payment turned out to be larger than he had expected, and now he was struggling to make ends meet. Several times he tried to start a conversation with Ksenia about the “family budget,” but each time he received a firm refusal.
Three weeks after Svetlana Mikhailovna’s birthday, Ksenia decided it was time to put an end to it. She cooked dinner, set the table, and waited for her husband to return. When Vitalya came home, there was a bottle of wine and two glasses on the table.
“Are we celebrating something?” he asked in surprise, hugging his wife. “Have you changed your mind about the loan?”
Ksenia gently pulled away and pointed to a chair.
“Sit down. We need to talk.”
Vitalya grew wary, but sat down without taking his eyes off her.
“I am filing for divorce,” Ksenia said calmly. “And this is not an impulsive decision. I have been thinking about it all these past weeks.”
“What?” Vitalya jumped up. “Are you serious?”
“Yes,” Ksenia remained unshaken. “Because you chose a side in our marriage. And it was not mine.”
“What side? What are you talking about?” Vitalya muttered in confusion.
“I am talking about the fact that for three years, your mother has not missed a single chance to humiliate me, and you have never once stood up for me. I am talking about the fact that when it came to choosing between my comfort and her whims, you chose her. I am talking about the fact that you took out a loan without my consent, knowing I was against it and that I would not pay it.”
“But all of that is…”
“Trivial?” Ksenia interrupted him. “No, Vital. It is not trivial. It is a pattern of your behavior. And I no longer want to be part of it.”
“You cannot just leave!” Vitalya raised his voice. “What about our apartment? What about the loan?”
“The apartment belongs to me,” Ksenia reminded him. “I inherited it from my aunt before our wedding, in case you suddenly forgot. And the loan is only your responsibility. You took it without my consent, for a gift to your mother, not for our family’s needs.”
Vitalya turned pale, realizing that he had trapped himself.
“You… you thought everything through?” he finally said.
“Yes,” Ksenia nodded. “I already have the documents ready to file for divorce. I will give you one week to pack your things and find housing.”
“One week?” Vitalya exclaimed. “Where am I supposed to find a place in one week? And how am I supposed to pay the loan?”
“That is your problem.” Ksenia shrugged. “Perhaps your mother will take you in. After all, she now has a new luxurious sofa you can sleep on.”
A month later, the divorce was officially finalized. Just as the lawyer had predicted, the court left the loan entirely on Vitalya, recognizing that it had not been taken out for family needs. Ksenia kept the apartment and all her savings.
Vitalya really did move in with his mother. Svetlana Mikhailovna welcomed her son with open arms, constantly repeating, “I told you she was no match for you!” But Svetlana Mikhailovna’s enthusiasm quickly faded when she realized that her son was not only short on money because of the loan, but also unable to help her financially.
And the luxurious sofa, which had become the cause of all the trouble, turned out to be beautiful but extremely uncomfortable to sleep on. Every night, tossing and turning on that designer nightmare, Vitalya thought about how dearly his desire to please his mother had cost him.
Ksenia, freed from toxic relationships, felt true peace for the first time in a long while. She could finally manage her own life and finances without guilt or explanations.
“You need it, so you buy your mother gifts yourself. That woman has never said one kind word to me, so you’ll have to manage without my help!” — that phrase became a kind of motto for her new life, where there was no room for forced compromises or silent endurance of other people’s insults.