“I lived on porridge for seven years to pay off the mortgage, and as soon as I was free, your mother landed on my neck with her faucet, spa, and dream of turning me into an ATM.”
Lida closed the bank door and leaned against the glass, closing her eyes. The last mortgage payment. Seven years of financial slavery behind her. Her hands trembled as she pulled the certificate of full repayment from her bag.
“Done, Seryozha,” she whispered into the phone. “We’re free.”
Her husband’s voice quivered with joy:
“I can’t believe it! Imagine how much extra money we’ll have every month now!”
Lida smiled, picturing their plans together: a seaside vacation they had postponed year after year, new bedroom furniture, maybe even a new car.
But the first to act was her mother-in-law.
“Lidochka, dear,” Nina Petrovna began three days after the mortgage was paid off, “I was thinking… maybe you could help me with my medications? My pension isn’t enough, and my blood pressure is really troubling me.”
Lida looked at Sergey, who shrugged:
“Well, mom’s right, now we can afford it.”
The medicines cost five thousand rubles. Not too much, Lida thought. But a week later, Nina Petrovna called again:
“Son, could you help pay for a spa treatment? The doctor says I really need it.”
The spa cost twenty thousand. Lida pressed her lips together but said nothing.
“Mom is sick,” Sergey explained. “We can’t say no.”
Next came a refrigerator. The old one, according to her mother-in-law, had completely broken.
“Imagine, the food is spoiling,” Nina Petrovna complained. “A good fridge costs forty thousand.”
Lida began to do the math. In two months, they had already spent seventy thousand rubles on her mother-in-law’s needs—the exact amount they used to pay the bank.
“Seryozha,” she began cautiously one evening, “maybe we should think about our own needs?”
“What needs?” her husband didn’t understand.
“Well, we planned a vacation. I’ve been dreaming of seeing the sea…”
Sergey waved her off:
“The vacation can wait. Mom needs our help right now.”
But Lida had made up her mind. The next day, she opened a separate account and started setting money aside. Thirty thousand a month—half of what they had been giving to the bank.
Meanwhile, her mother-in-law’s demands grew. Now she needed a bathroom renovation—noisy faucets, tiles falling off.
“Only a hundred thousand,” she persuaded her son. “It’s nothing for you now.”
Sergey was about to agree, but Lida stopped him:
“Seryozha, maybe instead of renovating mom’s bathroom, we finally take a vacation? I’ve already started saving as soon as we paid off the mortgage.”
Her husband froze:
“Saving? How much?”
“Enough for a nice seaside vacation,” Lida smiled. “It’s my dream.”
Sergey frowned:
“But mom asked for a renovation… Maybe we postpone the vacation another year?”
“We’ve been postponing for seven years,” Lida said softly.
Two more months passed. Her mother-in-law called every day, complaining about the bathroom and hinting at the promised renovation.
“Seryozha,” Lida said, turning off the TV, “I’ve saved enough. It’s time to choose a destination.”
Her husband nodded absentmindedly:
“Yes, sure. You choose.”
But he didn’t participate in planning. When Lida showed him beautiful hotel photos, he just mumbled something, glued to his phone.
“Maybe Turkey?” she suggested. “Or Egypt?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Sergey waved her off.
Lida realized she’d have to take matters into her own hands. She took a day off and went to a travel agency.
“I want something peaceful, by the sea,” she explained to the consultant, a young woman with a friendly smile.
“I recommend Cyprus,” the consultant suggested. “Beautiful scenery, warm sea, great cuisine. This hotel is particularly nice.”
Lida looked at the photos. White sandy beaches, crystal-clear water, cozy rooms with a sea view. This was what she had dreamed of for all those years.
“I’ll take it,” she said decisively.
“Great!” the consultant cheered. “For two adults, ten days?”
“Yes, and I’d like to pay in full right away.”
Returning home with the travel vouchers in her bag, Lida felt happy. Finally, her dream would come true. She imagined lying on the beach, listening to the waves, enjoying the sun.
But at home, her enraged husband awaited.
“Where have you been?” he burst at her from the doorway.
“To the travel agency,” Lida replied calmly. “Buying us the vacation.”
Sergey’s face twisted in rage:
“And the money you were saving for the vacation? I promised it to mom!” he screeched.
Lida froze. She had never seen her husband like this.
“What money?” she asked, confused.
“The money you were saving!” Sergey continued shouting. “I promised mom we’d help with the renovation! And you spent it!”
“Seryozha,” Lida said slowly, “that’s MY money. I was saving it for OUR vacation. I told you about it.”
“But mom is waiting!” her husband wouldn’t calm down. “She’s already found the contractors!”
“And how long have I been telling you about the sea?” Lida raised her voice. “How many times have we postponed our vacation because of the mortgage?”
Sergey didn’t listen. He paced the room like a cornered animal:
“You must return the vouchers! Otherwise, mom will chew me out! Her faucets are noisy, the tiles are falling off!”
“And my soul is falling apart!” Lida shouted. “I lived seven years for this day!”
“Don’t exaggerate!” Sergey bellowed. “The bathroom is more important than your whims!”
Lida felt something in her soul finally break. She looked at her husband—red with rage, his face twisted—and realized she couldn’t take it anymore.
“You know what,” she said quietly, “I’m going on vacation. With my friend or without her, I’m going.”
“You’ve lost your mind!” Sergey screeched. “I forbid you!”
“Don’t you dare forbid me anything,” Lida replied coldly, and went into the bedroom.
They didn’t speak all night. In the morning, Sergey left for work, slamming the door loudly. Lida sat in the kitchen, drinking coffee and thinking. Then she picked up her phone and called her best friend.
“Katya, I need your help urgently. Want to go to Cyprus?”
“Lida, are you crazy?” Katya laughed. “Of course I do! What happened?”
“I’ll tell you later. We leave tomorrow.”
While Sergey was at work, Lida packed her suitcase. She moved quickly and decisively, as if afraid she might change her mind.
At the airport, she turned off her phone. She didn’t want to see her husband’s angry messages.
Katya was already waiting for her. The friends hugged, and Lida smiled for the first time in many days.
“Tell me what happened,” Katya demanded once they were settled on the plane.
Lida told her everything: about her mother-in-law, the renovation, the scandal.
“You’re amazing,” Katya said, squeezing her hand. “Stop living for other people’s interests.”
Cyprus was sunny and warm. The hotel was even better than in the photos. Lida stood on the balcony, looking at the sea, crying with happiness.
“Finally,” she whispered. “Finally.”
On the second day, she turned on her phone. Forty-three missed calls from Sergey and twenty messages. The first ones were full of rage:
“You’ve lost your mind! Come back immediately!”
“Mom found out you ran away! She’s hysterical!”
“You’re embarrassing me!”
But gradually, the tone changed:
“Lida, let’s talk.”
“I feel bad without you.”
“Forgive me.”
And the last message was completely plaintive:
“I miss you. Please come back soon.”
Lida turned off her phone and went to the beach. Katya was already lying on a lounge chair, reading a book.
“Is your husband texting?” she asked.
“Uh-huh,” Lida nodded. “He yelled at first, now he’s apologizing.”
“Classic,” Katya snorted. “First a tantrum, then tears.”
Lida laughed. It felt so light and good. She swam in the warm sea, sunbathed, drank wine on the restaurant terrace, and admired the sunsets. Everything she had dreamed of for so many years.
In one week in Cyprus, she rested her soul more than she had in the past few years.
“I don’t want to go home,” she admitted to Katya on the last day.
“I understand,” her friend nodded. “But you can’t run away forever.”
“I could,” Lida said thoughtfully. “The question is whether I want to.”
At the airport, she finally turned on her phone. Sergey had sent a photo—he was standing with a bouquet of flowers at the arrivals exit.
“Waiting for you, my dear. Forgive me.”
Lida sighed. So, there would still be a conversation.
Sergey really was waiting for her with flowers. He looked exhausted and thinner. Katya tactfully melted into the crowd, promising to call later.
“Lida…” Sergey began.
“Let’s go home,” she said wearily. “We’ll talk there.”
At home, they sat on the sofa facing each other.
“Forgive me,” Sergey began. “I was wrong.”
“Wrong?” Lida repeated. “You yelled at me like a madman. You demanded I give up my dream for your mom’s renovation.”
“I know,” Sergey lowered his head. “I realized I went too far. While you were away, I thought a lot.”
“And what did you conclude?”
“That mom can wait. But I could lose you.”
Lida looked at him carefully. Sergey seemed genuinely repentant.
“And what will mom say?” she asked.
“I’ve already talked to her,” Sergey said firmly. “I explained that we have new rules now. Our family comes first—our plans, our needs. Only then comes help for the parents.”
“And how did she take it?”
“She was offended, of course. But she understood she had no choice.”
Lida was silent, thinking over his words.
“Lida,” Sergey continued, “I want you to know: I’m proud that you went. You were right. We really have been postponing our life for too long.”
“Do you really think so?” she asked softly.
“Really. And I want us to plan the next vacation. Together.”
Lida felt the tension gradually leave her.
“Okay,” she said. “But there are conditions.”
“What are they?”
“We make a family budget. Clearly plan how much we spend on ourselves and how much goes to helping parents. And vacation is now a sacred item in that budget.”
“Agreed,” Sergey nodded. “Any other conditions?”
“No more tantrums. If you have any complaints—we discuss them calmly, like adults.”
“Agreed to that too.”
Lida smiled for the first time in days.
“Then tell me how life was without me. And I’ll show you photos from Cyprus.”
“Without you, it was empty,” Sergey admitted honestly. “I realized a home without you isn’t a home. Now show me the photos. I want to see how happy you were.”
Lida took out her phone and started a slideshow. Images flashed across the screen: her on the beach, at a restaurant, on a sightseeing tour. Indeed, she looked happy.
“Next time, we’ll go together,” Sergey said quietly. “I promise.”
“You promise?” Lida asked again.
“I promise. And no more of your mom’s renovations will get in the way.”
Lida pressed close to him. Maybe he really understood. Maybe their family boat hadn’t yet been wrecked on the rocks of daily life and other people’s interests.
“I love you,” Sergey whispered.
“And I love you,” Lida replied. “But never yell at me about money again. That hurt.”
“I won’t,” he promised. “Forgive me.”
Outside, evening was falling. Lida looked at the familiar walls, at her husband, at her former life. She had returned. But now she knew she was capable of taking action, of protecting her dreams. And that knowledge made her stronger.
Most importantly—she had been to the sea. Finally.
