“What honeymoon? Mother needs care, not your beaches! You’ll be going to her, not to the sea!” — declared her husband.
Irina stood in front of the bedroom mirror, adjusting the collar of her blouse. In the corner of the room, two suitcases stood neatly packed the day before. Tomorrow morning, the plane would take the newlyweds to Sochi — the long-awaited honeymoon Irina had dreamed about during the entire year of wedding preparations.
Viktor sat on the bed, buried in his phone. His face was tense, his brows furrowed. Irina noticed him nervously rubbing his temples.
“What’s wrong?” Irina asked, sitting down beside him. “Are you worried about work?”
Viktor looked up and gazed at his wife as if seeing her for the first time.
“Ira, we’ll have to postpone the trip.”
Irina slowly turned her head toward her husband. The words didn’t sink in immediately.
“What do you mean, postpone?”
“Mother called. The doctors say she’ll be better at home than in the hospital. But she needs round-the-clock care. She’s elderly and recently had surgery.”
Irina stood and went to the window. Outside, a September drizzle fell, and the leaves had begun to turn yellow. She closed her eyes, gathering her thoughts.
“Viktor, the vacation package was bought three months ago. The tickets are in hand. The suitcases are packed. The flight is tomorrow morning.”
“The package won’t run away. We can move it to next month. Or winter.” Viktor shrugged, as if they were talking about going to the cinema.
Irina turned around. Her husband’s eyes were cold; the decision was final.
“Next month? And what if Lydia Semenovna needs something again?”
“Don’t talk like that about my mother!” Viktor’s voice hardened. “We have obligations to our parents.”
“What honeymoon? Mother needs care, not your beaches! You’ll be going to her, not to the sea!” — he repeated.
Blood rushed to Irina’s cheeks. She sat on a chair, hands folded on her knees. Her heart raced, but her voice remained calm.
“Our obligations? Viktor, we got married three days ago. Three days! A honeymoon isn’t a whim, it’s the beginning of our life together.”
“And a mother is the person who raised me. Without her, there would be neither me nor our marriage.”
Viktor stood and began pacing the room, his movements sharp and nervous.
“You have to understand. Lydia Semenovna needs constant supervision. Medication every three hours, a special diet, help with hygiene. Can you abandon a sick person?”
“And can you abandon your wife?” Irina asked quietly.
Viktor stopped and stared at Irina. A flash of irritation crossed his eyes.
“You’re not sick. You’re young, healthy. You can manage without the sea for a week or two.”
Irina nodded slowly. The puzzle fell into place. Her husband had set his priorities from the very start of their marriage.
“Fine. But who will care for your mother? You’re working.”
“Well…” Viktor hesitated. “Mother hopes you’ll help. You’re part of the family now.”
“Part of the family,” Irina repeated. “Meaning a caregiver?”
“Don’t exaggerate! A woman just handles these things better. You have a maternal instinct, you see…”
Irina got up and went to the wardrobe. She took a summer dress from the suitcase, smoothed it, and hung it on a hanger.
“And if I refuse?”
Viktor frowned even more.
“Then I’ll have to take leave. Lose the quarterly bonus. Let down colleagues who rely on me. Disappoint my mother, who’s been waiting for a daughter-in-law for three years.”
A note of reproach and resentment came into his voice. Irina carefully packed her swimsuit and beach sandals.
“Are you threatening me?”
“I’m explaining the situation. The honeymoon can wait. But Mother needs help right now.”
Irina closed the suitcase and turned to her husband. Her face was calm, without a trace of tears or hysteria.
“Viktor, I bought this trip with my own money. I saved for six months. I’ve dreamed of the sea since childhood.”
“So what? Isn’t your mother more important than your childhood dreams?”
“Mother is your mother. And the sea is our honeymoon. Which happens once in a lifetime.”
Viktor approached his wife and placed his hands on her shoulders. His gaze softened, his voice took on a coaxing tone.
“Irishka, come on, understand. Lydia Semenovna is an old woman. Sick. Alone. And we’re young; we have our whole lives ahead. We’ll have a hundred more chances to go to the sea.”
“A hundred trips to the sea, but not once on our honeymoon,” Irina replied.
Viktor stepped back. The softness disappeared from his voice.
“I’m staying. You want — fly alone. You want — cancel the trip. Decide for yourself.”
Irina picked up the tickets and passport from the table and put them in her handbag. She put on her jacket and took her suitcase.
“I’ve decided.”
“Where are you going?”
“To the airport. The flight is tomorrow morning.”
Viktor spread a condescending smile.
“Flying alone? Seriously? What will people think?”
“They’ll say I have a husband who, in the first week of marriage, chose his mother over his wife. The rest — everyone can draw their own conclusions.”
Irina left the apartment without slamming the door. The stairwell was quiet; only the elevator hummed. She descended to the first floor and paused at the exit.
For the first time in three days since the wedding, her breath felt free. No one demanded explanations, no one hung guilt over her head, no one forced her to choose between herself and common sense.
At Domodedovo Airport, Irina checked into a hotel near the terminal. Her phone was silent until the evening. The first call from Viktor came at half past nine.
“Ira, where are you?”
“Where I said I’d be. At the airport.”
“You really intend to fly alone?”
“Intend? I’m already on my way. The flight is at seven tomorrow morning.”
“But that’s foolish! What are you going to do alone in the hotel?”
Irina smiled and lay down on the bed in her hotel room.
“The same thing I would do with my husband. Swim in the sea, sunbathe, read books, sleep until noon.”
“And what about your mother? What about me?”
“Mother is your mother. Take care of her yourself. And as for yourself, you’ll manage somehow.”
“Ira, you’re behaving like a child!”
“I’m behaving like a wife who wants a honeymoon with her husband. And instead, I get an ultimatum from my mother-in-law.”
Viktor was silent. Only car horns from the street could be heard through the line.
“Fine. Maybe I’ll come in a day or two. If your mother gets better.”
“No need. There’s only one seat on the plane. And the hotel room is booked for one…”
Irina hung up and turned off her phone. Tomorrow a new life would begin. What kind exactly remained unknown, but it would certainly be free from constant compromises for the sake of someone else’s needs.
The next morning, she woke at five, had coffee in the hotel restaurant, and checked in for her flight. The plane took off right on schedule. Through the window, clouds drifted by, and below lay Moscow with all its problems and demands.
Sochi was warm and sunny. The sea roared beyond the hotel windows, the air smelled of iodine and pine. Irina checked into her room, changed into a summer dress, and stepped out onto the balcony.
For the first time in many months, she felt at peace. No calls with complaints, no urgent demands to solve someone else’s problems, no accusations of selfishness.
Viktor called every other day. The conversations were short and predictable.
“How are you?” he asked.
“Wonderful. Yesterday I went on an excursion to Krasnaya Polyana.”
“My mother feels very unwell. Fever, weakness. The doctor says she needs constant attention.”
“Then be with her.”
“Ira, when you return, we need to have a serious talk.”
“Of course, we will.”
On the fifth day of her vacation, Irina met a couple at the hotel — a man and a woman around forty, with teenage children. In the evening, they sat in the restaurant at a neighboring table.
“Are you vacationing alone?” the woman asked.
“Honeymoon,” Irina replied with a smile.
“And where is your husband?”
“He’s taking care of his sick mother.”
The couple exchanged glances. The man shook his head.
“You know, my mother was also sick after surgery. But a honeymoon is sacred. We hired a caregiver for a week.”
“My husband chose differently,” Irina shrugged.
“And rightly so, coming alone,” the woman remarked. “It immediately shows what kind of person is with you.”
Irina nodded. Indeed, a lot had become clear.
The remaining days passed calmly and measuredly. Irina strolled along the promenade, read books on the beach, and dined in restaurants. Her phone barely rang.
On the last day of her vacation, her husband sent a message: “Mother is better. I won’t be able to meet you at the airport, work matters.”
Irina read the message and deleted it. Viktor still hadn’t understood anything.
The plane arrived in Moscow in the evening. Irina took a taxi home. Viktor wasn’t there, but a note lay on the kitchen table: “Went to mother’s for the night. Will be back tomorrow morning.”
The young woman unpacked her suitcase, took a shower, and sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea. Photos from the wedding were on the fridge — happy faces, the white dress, the bouquet.
Three weeks ago, Irina believed she was marrying a man who would be her support and protector. Today it was clear — her husband was ready to sacrifice his wife for his mother’s comfort.
The next morning, Viktor returned, looking apologetic, holding a bouquet of chrysanthemums from the nearest kiosk.
“Sorry I didn’t meet you. Mother was unwell all night.”
“I see,” Irina said, taking the flowers and placing them in a vase.
“How was your trip?”
“Wonderful.”
“Didn’t you miss me?”
“No.”
Viktor sat at the table, looking at his wife intently.
“Ira, we need to talk. Seriously.”
“Agreed.”
“You see, marriage is not only romance. It’s responsibility toward your loved ones. And mother — she’s part of that responsibility too.”
Irina sat across from him, hands folded on the table.
“Mother is your responsibility. And I am your wife. The difference is clear, right?”
“But we’re one family now!”
“Family is when husband and wife support each other. Not when the wife serves the mother-in-law.”
Viktor frowned.
“You’re selfish. Only thinking of yourself.”
“I’m thinking of the two of us. Of our marriage. About what will happen in five years when Lydia Semenovna comes up with something again, and you choose her again.”
“Mother doesn’t scheme! Mother is sick!”
“Mother manipulates. And you allow it.”
Viktor stood and began pacing the kitchen.
“So, you won’t help my family?”
“I’m going to build our family. And your mother can hire a caregiver or go to the hospital.”
“That’s cruel.”
“That’s honest.”
The young couple looked at each other across the kitchen. Each waited for the other to give in first.
“Fine,” Viktor finally said. “We’ll live your way. But if anything happens to my mother, it will be on your conscience.”
“And if anything happens to our marriage, it will be on yours,” Irina replied.
He left the kitchen, slamming the door. Irina remained at the table, studying the wedding photographs.
The honeymoon was over. But the real test had just begun. And the results were already clear.
If in the first month of marriage the husband chooses his mother over his wife, nothing would change afterward. If anything, it might get worse.
Irina took the plane tickets from her handbag — the return tickets from Sochi. One had her name; the other had the name of the husband who never flew.
This honeymoon had indeed revealed who was who. And where to go next — that had also become clear.
