— Yes, I know that Tatyana Pavlovna fooled everyone into thinking I never did anything around the house. But all the cleaning and cooking—that was my doing. You’ll just have to live with that knowledge now, Igor Ivanovich.
I don’t even understand how you lived before we moved in. Although… you’ll have a perfect chance to remember. Because I’m leaving this madhouse! With my daughter.
Veronika hesitated for a long time, but circumstances forced her hand—rent for the apartment swallowed nearly half the family budget, and more unexpected expenses loomed ahead.
The move to Maxim’s parents turned out to be quick and… painful. The two-room apartment of his mother and father already felt cramped before they arrived, and now five people squeezed into it, including little Liza, who had just learned to run around, open anything she could reach, and dig through all of grandma’s stores.
Tatyana Pavlovna, a woman of strict rules, immediately made it clear that in her home, everything would stay the same. At first, Veronika tried to adapt: she scrubbed the floors the way her mother-in-law demanded, cooked according to her recipes, tried to keep quiet in the evenings. They even locked Liza in the room whenever father-in-law Igor Ivanovich came home from work.
But even perfect cleanliness and a quiet voice didn’t save her from criticism—the borscht wasn’t right, Liza laughed too loudly, Veronika got up too late.
— I asked for peace and quiet after work! — the father-in-law fumed whenever he heard his granddaughter’s tantrums because she wasn’t allowed out of the room. — Haven’t I earned some rest in my own apartment at fifty-five? — he went on grumbling at Veronika.
— She’ll calm down in a moment, give her time.
The daughter-in-law left the kitchen, and Igor Ivanovich continued:
— Just think about it, they moved in on top of us. As if we had all this space before.
— Don’t be angry, Igor, here, eat something, — his wife put a plate of buckwheat and gravy right in front of him.
He inhaled the aroma and happily began eating.
— Delicious. I never noticed you learned to cook meat so that it just falls apart into fibers. Very good! — Igor Ivanovich praised her, and his wife only smiled sweetly.
Tatyana Pavlovna didn’t bother to mention that she hadn’t cooked since her son and daughter-in-law moved into their apartment. And why should she? They want to live here—let them manage! She wasn’t about to cook for this crowd.
Maxim, instead of defending his wife, retreated further into himself. After work he came home exhausted, ate dinner, and sat down with his phone or computer, avoiding conversation with his wife. If Veronika started to complain, he sighed and said:
— Just hold on a little while, until I sort things out at work. These are my parents, after all. You’re looking for enemies in the wrong place!
But that “little while” dragged on for six months. Liza was growing, and with each passing day she needed more attention and space. Veronika tried to take her daughter outside as often as possible, especially in the evenings. Liza hated being confined to four walls, and she was wildly energetic. It was simply easier to go out.
At first, her mother-in-law didn’t like it, since it left Veronika with less time for cooking—the walks took three or four hours a day. Then Igor Ivanovich began complaining, and soon Maxim too, after his mother whispered plenty of nasty things about Veronika behind her back.
And one day Maxim couldn’t take it anymore. Just as Veronika finished bathing her daughter after a walk and sat her in the high chair—which, by the way, stood in their room—her husband burst out:
— I don’t understand, where are you always running off to?! — Maxim shouted.
— What do you mean? Maybe you’ve forgotten we have a two-year-old daughter who needs fresh air and playtime. In this room, Liza eats and relieves herself. She’s not allowed out. It used to be just in the evenings, but now it’s all the time.
Your mother acts as if her granddaughter gives her migraines. I only have one question—do they even love Liza at all?
— Don’t talk nonsense. Of course they love her.
— I don’t know what love is, because my parents abandoned me. And your parents are the only grandparents who could give her at least a drop of warmth and kindness. But apparently, it’s not meant to be.
— That’s genetics for you, — Maxim muttered.
— What do you mean?
— That Liza doesn’t look like me at all. That’s what.
— She’s the spitting image of your mother! — Veronika exclaimed in surprise.
— You know what? I want a DNA test.
— Seriously? — his wife couldn’t believe her ears.
— Yes, absolutely. Tomorrow we’ll go and do it. Don’t worry, I’ll find the money.
— So you have money for that, but not for diapers? That’s really funny.
They did the DNA test, and while they waited for the results, it seemed like things should have calmed down. But instead of relief, Veronika felt an invisible wall rising between her and Maxim. In his eyes there was neither shame nor regret—as if he saw nothing strange in suspecting his own wife of betrayal.
Maxim, on the contrary, behaved as if it were nothing more than an ordinary household formality. Veronika, however, increasingly caught herself thinking that she could no longer open up to her husband, and as for any intimacy—there was simply no question of it.
The next morning, Tatyana Pavlovna went to visit a friend. Veronika seized the opportunity, while the apartment was empty, to clean up. After lunch, she gathered her daughter Liza, and together they went for a walk in the park.
The weather was wonderful, and Veronika longed to escape the stuffy apartment, where every corner seemed to whisper of pressure and reproach.
When they decided to head toward the dacha, the sun was already leaning toward the horizon. Meanwhile, a real drama was unfolding back in the apartment. Tatyana Pavlovna returned from her friend’s house in high spirits.
She saw the spotless apartment and smiled with satisfaction. Then she glanced at the stove—nothing there. She opened the refrigerator—empty as well.
She was about to quickly whip something up, otherwise her little trick would turn into a scandal, but she didn’t have time. Igor Ivanovich entered the kitchen.
— What peace and quiet! If only they went out for walks like this more often! It’s unbearable otherwise! Come on, Tanya, dish up. What do we have today?
— Uh… today we have… fried eggs! — blurted out Tatyana Pavlovna.
— What? After the whole day, all you managed to make was fried eggs?
— Why not? Look how the apartment is shining clean. I was busy cleaning!
Just then Maxim arrived. Almost at the same moment, he and Veronika with Liza came home. Veronika calmly set Liza on the floor and helped her take off her jacket. At that moment, Maxim, as if ignoring his wife, headed straight for the kitchen. He had worked late today and was very hungry. But disappointment awaited him there.
— And where’s dinner? — Maxim barked at his wife, who was just passing by with Liza in her arms…
Veronika looked at Maxim and, without raising her voice, said:
— Don’t expect dinner anymore. I’m not a maid for your entire family.
She glanced at the bewildered faces of her in-laws and went on:
— Yes, I know that Tatyana Pavlovna fooled everyone into believing I didn’t do anything around the house. But all the cleaning and cooking—that was my work. You’ll just have to live with that now, Igor Ivanovich.
I don’t even understand how you lived before we moved in. Although… you’ll soon have a chance to remember. Because I’m leaving this madhouse! With my daughter.
Maxim was deeply outraged, but as soon as his wife disappeared behind the bedroom door, all he could mutter was:
— What was that just now? How does she think she can just take my child away from her father?
— I can hear you! — Veronika’s voice came from the room. — Not so long ago you questioned whether you were even her father. And now you’re outraged? What a family of clowns.
— What did she say?! — Igor Ivanovich roared.
He stood up and headed for the bedroom, but no one had looked inside yet—and no one knew that the suitcases had already been packed. Veronika came out to meet her father-in-law, her eyes drilling into him.
— Now your ego will be satisfied. Too bad there’ll be no one left to bully. Because a two-year-old child, whom you could shut away whenever it suited you, will no longer live in this apartment. Go practice on someone else. Maybe you’ll succeed.
— How dare you! — Igor Ivanovich started, but his daughter-in-law lightly pushed him aside with her suitcase and moved past him into the hallway.
Veronika calmly put on her coat and hat, then helped Liza button her jacket. Maxim, sitting in the kitchen, at first watched her actions with skeptical amusement—he thought it was just another emotional performance that would end in half an hour with tears and apologies on her knees.
But when Veronika tossed the keys onto the shelf by the door and said:
— I didn’t make a copy, don’t worry—
a flash of confusion crossed his eyes, quickly replaced by alarm.
— Wait… You’re serious? — Maxim leapt up and rushed toward his wife and daughter, but she simply pulled Liza closer and stepped aside.
— Too late, — she said curtly.
Twenty minutes later, they were sitting in a taxi, a small suitcase neatly stowed in the trunk. Their new home became the one-room apartment of Antonina Grigoryevna—Veronika’s paternal grandmother.
She welcomed her granddaughter and great-granddaughter as if she had been waiting for them all day: with hot soup, warm compote, and not a single question. She simply stroked Veronika’s shoulder gently and said:
— If you’ve come, it means there was no other way. Stay as long as you need.
Veronika had no other family: her father had died ten years earlier, and her mother had gone abroad with a new lover when she was just five.
A week later, the DNA test results arrived: Maxim was Liza’s father with 99.99% certainty. That same day, without hesitation, Veronika filed for divorce.
The court hearings dragged on for several weeks. Veronika demanded child support and half the value of the car recently purchased during the marriage. Maxim and his mother, Tatyana Pavlovna, fought fiercely against it.
At every session, her mother-in-law nearly shouted, insisting that for the past two and a half years the daughter-in-law had been sitting at home and contributed not a single kopeck to the family.
— If she’s been on maternity leave for two years, then she has no right to the car! — Tatyana Pavlovna fumed.
The judge listened patiently, then calmly replied:
— Madam, you seem to forget that your former daughter-in-law did an enormous amount of work by giving birth to and raising your granddaughter. That is also a contribution to the family.
Tatyana Pavlovna flushed crimson, but had nothing to say. The verdict was in Veronika’s favor: child support and half the value of the car.
Her mother-in-law seethed, Maxim grew darker, but for the first time in a long while Veronika felt lightness. She had a roof over her head, her daughter and grandmother beside her, and ahead—a life where she owed nothing to anyone.
When Tatyana Pavlovna returned home with Maxim after the final hearing, she stayed silent for a long time. Her face was stone, but her eyes burned with fury.
— Son, — she finally said, — want me to tell you how you can take revenge on her?
Maxim lifted his eyes to his mother.
— How?
— Simple. Don’t see Liza. Let her handle everything alone, without weekends or breaks. Let her bite her elbows in regret. We’re already paying alimony—let that be enough.
Maxim didn’t even argue—he just nodded. And so it went: for five years he didn’t see either Veronika or his daughter. The money transfers were his only reminder of Liza.
And then something happened that no one expected. Tatyana Pavlovna fell gravely ill. The doctors gave a cautious prognosis, but the truth was clear: she had only a couple of months left to live. She thought a lot, lay awake at night. And one day, with great effort, she got up from her bed and called her son:
— Maxim, — her voice was weak, — bring Liza. I want to see my granddaughter… at least once, while I still can.
Maxim hesitated, but eventually dialed Veronika’s number. To his surprise, his ex-wife agreed almost immediately, only adding:
— But first, Liza needs to meet you as her father. She barely remembers you. Let’s meet in a café.
Maxim thought that was reasonable and agreed to the time his ex-wife suggested.
The next day he walked into a cozy café and spotted them right away. By the window sat Veronika, and beside her a girl of about eight, strikingly similar to a young Tatyana Pavlovna. But his gaze snagged on a third person: a tall, broad-shouldered man in his forties, who had his arm around Veronika’s waist. What made it unbearable was that they all looked happy together.
Maxim froze, gritting his teeth, not understanding who this man was… but already sensing that his ex-wife had prepared a surprise he would hardly find pleasant.
Then he heard a ringing child’s voice:
— Daddy!
He jerked his head toward the girl, his heart stung—he hadn’t heard Liza call him that once in five years. But the joy lasted only a moment. Liza, beaming, was looking not at him, but at the man across from her, pulling silly faces at him. The man laughed in return.
At that moment Maxim felt like stone. A wave of anger and humiliation rose in his chest. What the hell? That was his Liza, his daughter, and now she was calling some other guy “Daddy.” Tested by pride, he failed before he even managed to step closer.
He spun on his heel and walked out of the café without so much as a greeting. Outside, clutching his phone in his hand, he called his mother:
— Mom, Veronika has gone too far! She’s forbidden Liza from seeing me. And as for you… forget it.
Tatyana Pavlovna listened in silence, then quietly said:
— It seems we’ve earned this, son…
In the end, she never saw her granddaughter before her death. Maxim never tried again—his pride mattered more.
And so, in their two-room apartment, lived two stubborn men—Ivan Ivanovich and Maxim. They considered themselves the better half of the world, though life grew emptier by the day.
As for Veronika, she neither knew nor wanted to know about them. She lived her own life—with the man she loved, with her wonderful daughter, who now smiled far more often than she had in childhood. And deep down, she was already dreaming that soon she would become a mother for the second time.
