Returning from the sanatorium, the daughter-in-law decided to cut off all ties with her husband’s family.
Olga pressed “end call” and stared blankly at her phone. The same thing again. For the third day in a row.
— “Hi, Mom! We’re at Grandma Galya’s! It’s so nice here! She made pies! When are you coming?”
In the background, her mother-in-law’s voice was always there: “Alisochka, tell Mommy we love her! That we’re taking good care of you!”
Her thoughts were a mess. “They were supposed to be at home. Sergey promised.” The sanatorium, which Olga had hoped would give her rest, was turning into torture. The treatments helped, she was sleeping better, but every call home drained her nerves.
— “Damn it!” Olga threw her phone on the bed.
Next door, the neighbor turned on the TV. The clock showed 9:17 p.m. Lights out was still a while away.
She opened the chat with her husband.
“Seriozha, you’re at your parents’ again? We had an agreement…”
The message hung unanswered for an hour. Typical. First, “Sorry, Mom offered to help,” then, “What’s the big deal? Alice is fine.”
The phone beeped.
“Olya, don’t start. Mom really helps. I’m tired from work. What’s wrong if Grandma spends time with her granddaughter?”
— “And what about me asking you not to do that?” she said aloud, typing her reply.
“Seriozha, when I left, you PROMISED you’d manage on your own. I asked you not to leave Alice with your mom for long.”
“Oh come on, what now?”
Olga dropped the phone. The same vicious circle. Seven years of the same thing. The moment she mentioned his mother, Sergey shut down.
— “Why is it so hard?! Can’t you just respect my wishes?” she jumped up and paced the room.
A call from Katya came right on time.
— “Hey, how are you?” her friend’s voice was cautious.
— “Oh, fine… Except no one’s home, they’re all at his mom’s.”
— “Listen, I stopped by your place yesterday… wanted to see Alice.”
— “And?” Olga tensed.
— “Well… they’re basically living at your mother-in-law’s. I stayed for about half an hour. Galina Nikolaevna was saying things…”
— “Like what?”
— “Um…” Katya clearly didn’t want to continue. “That ‘finally the child is under proper supervision,’ that you’re ‘always nervous, and that’s no way to raise a child.’”
Olga gripped the phone so hard her knuckles went white.
— “Keep going.”
— “She called some friend right in front of me, bragging that ‘her son has finally come to his senses.’ And… oh, Olya, Alice asked when you’d come back, and your mother-in-law said, ‘Mommy’s resting, she might stay longer since she’s enjoying herself so much.’”
— “She said what?!” Olga felt the anger boiling inside.
— “Olya, that’s not all. I saw they brought Alice’s things. Lots of them. Like… for a long stay.”
The room blurred before her eyes. Olga collapsed onto the bed.
— “Thanks, Katya. Now I know what to do.”
— “Are you okay?”
— “I will be. Soon.”
After the call, Olga opened her laptop. Twenty minutes later, she had a bus ticket. Tomorrow at six in the morning, she would leave the sanatorium. Three days early. And she wouldn’t tell anyone.
She texted Sergey briefly: “Don’t worry, I’m fine. The treatments are working. Kiss Alice for me.”
Olga packed her things and lay down, but sleep wouldn’t come. Memories kept swirling: how Galina Nikolaevna criticized her cooking in front of guests; how she’d say, “Alice is so skinny, don’t you feed her?”; how she taught “the proper way to iron shirts for Seriozha.”
And Sergey always stayed silent. “Mom means well,” “She’s just worried,” “Ignore it.” And the endless “just endure it.”
Morning came cold and damp. Olga shivered at the bus stop. The bus was late, and she stood there with her bag, angry at the world.
“I endured seven years. Seven. Damn. Years.”
When she finally reached her apartment, it was already noon. Olga opened the door and froze. Silence. Emptiness. The smell of an uninhabited place.
— “Oh, for God’s sake…” she walked to the nursery.
The wardrobe was empty. Alice’s favorite toys, books, clothes — gone. Only outgrown things remained.
Olga dialed Katya’s number.
— “Olya, where are you?” her friend sounded surprised.
— “Home. Came back early. Katya, it’s empty here. They took Alice’s things. All of them.”
— “Oh, crap… What are you going to do?”
— “I’m going to them. Right now.”
— “Maybe calm down first?” Katya suggested gently.
— “I’m calm. Absolutely.”
Olga called a taxi. All the way to her mother-in-law’s, she ran through scenarios: from a calm “I’m taking my daughter” to ultimatums with threats.
The taxi stopped a block away. Olga decided to approach quietly. She didn’t want to be seen too soon.
In the yard, she heard a familiar voice. Galina Nikolaevna stood by the entrance with a neighbor. Olga slowed down and hid behind some bushes.
“…My son finally realized his wife isn’t right for him,” drifted to her ears. “I think after the sanatorium, we’ll tell her that Sergey and Alice are staying with us.”
— “And she’ll agree?” asked the neighbor.
— “Where else can she go? Sergey’s the father. He has rights. And the girl’s better off with us. Stability, routine. None of those nerves and hysterics…”
Six months later, Olga was sitting in a small café, waiting for Sergey. He was late, as usual. She checked the time: fifteen minutes. Before, she would have been anxious, but now she simply ordered another cup of tea.
The café door opened, and Sergey walked quickly to her table.
“Sorry, I got held up at work,” he said, taking a seat across from her.
“That’s fine,” she shrugged. “I’m used to it.”
“How’s Alice?”
“She’s good. Getting used to her new kindergarten. She likes it there.”
Sergey nodded. They sat in silence for a moment.
“Olya, I’ve been thinking… maybe we could try again? For Alice’s sake.”
Olga set down her cup and looked at her ex-husband carefully.
“Sergey, we’ve talked about this. I’m not coming back.”
“But Alice needs a father!”
“You’re already her father. Nothing is stopping you from seeing your daughter.”
“On weekends,” he said with a bitter smile. “Just like my mother planned. Ironic, isn’t it?”
“There’s a difference,” Olga shook her head. “I’m not keeping you from Alice. The court set a visitation schedule, and you follow it. I don’t interfere.”
“Mom says…”
“There it is,” Olga raised a finger. “You’re doing it again. ‘Mom says.’ But what do you say, Sergey? Do you even have your own opinion?”
Sergey looked away.
“She’s just worried. She wants to see her granddaughter.”
“And that’s why she calls my parents with threats? Spreads rumors that I’m a bad mother? Files complaints with child services?”
“She goes too far, I admit. But if you let her see Alice…”
“No,” Olga’s voice was firm. “Not until she admits she was wrong and apologizes—never. I won’t let her hurt our daughter again.”
“She’s the grandmother, Olya. She has rights.”
“And I have a court order that clearly states: visits with the father take place without third parties unless I give consent. And I do not give it.”
Sergey sighed.
“You know, I really thought I could sit on two chairs at once. Be a good son and a good husband.”
“And in the end, you lost your family,” Olga finished. “I didn’t want it to happen, but I couldn’t live like that anymore.”
“And now? Are you happier?”
Olga smiled—for the first time in the whole conversation.
“Yes. Much happier. New job, new apartment. Alice has stopped repeating her grandmother’s little phrases about what a bad mother I am. My own mom helps with Alice, but she doesn’t try to take control. And you know…” she paused, “I no longer feel guilty for living my life the way I choose.”
“And me?” Sergey asked quietly. “Do I have a chance to make things right?”
“As a father—of course. Come see your daughter, spend time with her, be there for her. But as a husband…” she shook her head. “No, Sergey. That chapter is closed.”
“I understand,” he nodded sadly.
“You’ll have to choose: either you come to see your daughter alone, or you don’t come at all. No grandmother lurking behind you.”
“Alright,” he lifted his hands in a gesture of peace. “I accept your terms.”
When they left the café, Olga felt an unexpected lightness. As if the last heavy weight had fallen from her shoulders.
“You know,” she said in parting, “I don’t regret marrying you. We have Alice. But I’m glad I found the strength to leave.”
Sergey nodded.
“I’ll call about the weekend.”
“Call. Alice will be waiting.”
Olga walked through the autumn park, smiling. Ahead of her was an entire life—free of toxic relationships, free of constant guilt, free of having to justify every step. A life where she alone decided what was best for herself and her daughter.
And that was the best therapy of all.
