The wedding hadn’t even happened yet, and my future mother-in-law was already dividing up my apartment.
— Are you kidding me? So I wasted my time on you for nothing? Worried my parents for nothing? Put up with everything for nothing?
— Andrey, I…
— I only needed your apartment, do you understand?! he blurted out, and immediately fell silent, as if frightened by his own words.
Svetlana met Andrey when she was already twenty-six. Her mother, Elena Petrovna, immediately began lecturing her daughter:
— Hold on to him, Sveta. It’s high time you got married. Let him propose soon. If you miss this chance, you’ll end up an old maid.
Every conversation with her mother turned into the same monologue.
— You’re not a little girl anymore, Elena Petrovna repeated over the phone. When are you going to have children? Time is passing. You’ll end up alone — mark my words!
Svetlana’s father, Mikhail Ivanovich, never got involved. He always believed such matters were “women’s business” and there was no place for him in those disputes. But he didn’t forget to throw in a reproach at the right moment.
Her mother, however, practically drove Svetlana mad. She called every day, spending half an hour hammering in the same points: marriage, children, time, age.
It was painful for Sveta to hear such talk. She was proud of herself — by her age she had worked her way up to department head at a major company, handled her duties perfectly, owned her own apartment, and didn’t struggle financially. She had never asked her parents for anything — on the contrary, she sent them money every month. But to Elena Petrovna, that was simply taken for granted.
And yet, whenever Elena Petrovna met with friends, she never mentioned her daughter’s career or independence — only one thing:
— My Sveta still isn’t even married… Ah… she’s wasted.
And with envy she would add:
— But Nina’s Tanya has already had two! Yes, she stays at home, her husband supports her — but at least there are grandchildren!
Svetlana would sigh heavily every time. It turned out that everything she had achieved on her own meant nothing to her mother. As for Andrey… he was a pleasant man — attentive and calm. But Svetlana couldn’t say she was madly in love with him. She enjoyed his company, but her heart didn’t skip a beat when he appeared.
Her mother, however, saw him as a lifeline:
— If you lose a man like that, you’ll regret it, Elena Petrovna would insist.
Eventually, the moment came when Andrey suggested introducing Svetlana to his parents — Pavel Ivanovich and Lyudmila Andreyevna.
Sveta seemed glad, though her mother was even happier. Elena Petrovna was already making plans — everything’s heading toward a wedding, soon we’ll be talking about grandchildren.
But deep down, Svetlana felt uneasy. She caught herself thinking that there were things about Andrey that bothered her. Sometimes he seemed too stingy — with emotions and with gifts.
Sveta was used to enjoying life and spending money easily — whether on a good restaurant, nice clothes, or surprises for loved ones. Andrey, however, always thought a hundred times before spending anything extra on someone. She excused it as part of his character, but she always felt a subtle discomfort.
And when she first visited Andrey’s parents’ home, everything suddenly became clear. The apartment of Pavel Ivanovich and Lyudmila Andreyevna seemed frozen in time. Every wall was lined with cabinets, the sideboards were bursting with dishes and crystal, and old rugs even hung in the hallway. There was so much stuff that it was hard to move without bumping into something.
Sveta immediately understood: their home was a kind of hoarder’s museum. Apparently, parting with things was considered almost a crime there.
— This tea set, Svetochka, I inherited from my grandmother, Lyudmila Andreyevna said proudly, showing her some old chipped and faded china. We keep everything; we never throw anything away. Everything comes in handy in the household.
Sveta smiled politely, but inside she felt uneasy. Suddenly, she clearly saw where Andrey’s excessive frugality — even stinginess — came from.
He had grown up in a family where every object had value, even if it had long lost its practical use. Where money was saved “for a rainy day,” but in reality, they lived as if every day was that rainy day.
She was invited to sit at the table, covered with an old tablecloth with small stains. She grimaced slightly and sat down on a stool. Andrey smiled widely, pouring compote from a pitcher that was not only very old and outdated, but also dirty.
— No, thank you. I’ll just have some water, Sveta said politely.
— Good girl! said Pavel Ivanovich, waving his hand. An economical daughter-in-law will always come in handy.
Sveta smiled and said nothing. Andrey and his parents happily devoured dinner, while Sveta couldn’t shake off her disgust. Earlier, when she’d gone into the kitchen, she had seen complete chaos — piles of plates with old grease stains.
— Dear, why aren’t you eating? Are you dieting? Lyudmila Andreyevna asked, noticing the untouched food on her plate.
— No, not at all. My stomach is just a bit upset today, Sveta lied, understanding that if she ate anything now, her stomach would indeed hurt.
Dinner was finally ending, and Sveta was relieved when Lyudmila Andreyevna brought out the cake she had bought in honor of the meeting. At least something edible and safe would be on the table!
But her joy was short-lived. The woman placed a plate in front of her — and Sveta immediately recognized it. It was the very same one with the ingrained grease stains she had seen earlier in the kitchen. Her appetite vanished instantly. She had to refuse again:
— Thank you, but I think I’ll pass.
Lyudmila Andreyevna raised her eyebrows in confusion but stayed silent. Pavel Ivanovich just snorted:
— Well, all the better — more for us.
Sveta smiled politely, already counting the minutes until she could leave. And then, unexpectedly — or perhaps only unexpectedly for her — Lyudmila Andreyevna began a new topic:
— Svetochka, you said you have an apartment? How many rooms? Do you live alone? Are you still paying a mortgage or is it already paid off? And where is it located?
The questions came one after another, like an interrogation. Sveta was taken aback but still answered some of them without going into detail. She didn’t see a reason to hide things, but she wasn’t about to bare her entire soul either.
But then Andrey, glowing with pride, jumped in:
— Mom, Dad, you should see it! Sveta’s apartment is like a dream! The view — straight onto a park, spacious, eighty square meters. European-style renovation, expensive furniture.
Sveta didn’t even have time to stop him before Lyudmila Andreyevna narrowed her eyes and said the phrase that made Sveta’s blood run cold:
— Well, that’s perfect then! Once you get married, we’ll move in with you. And we’ll sell our apartment, put the money in the bank. You know how small pensions are nowadays? At least we’d have some savings for old age.
Sveta nearly choked. In her mind, she instantly pictured her bright, spacious apartment stuffed with those endless cabinets, carpets, and boxes of junk. Her clean kitchen splattered with frying oil. And strangers in her space every day.
Nausea rose in her throat. She quickly stood up, forcing a strained smile onto her face:
— Excuse me, I’m not feeling well. I’ll head home, take some medicine, and lie down.
— What? Pavel Ivanovich perked up. I’ve got herbal tincture! Once you drink it, everything will pass. You’ve looked pale all evening.
— Thank you, but no, Sveta said firmly and grabbed her bag.
Andrey immediately stood up:
— I’ll walk you out.
But she shook her head sharply:
— No, stay with your parents. I’ve already called a taxi.
And without giving anyone a chance to object, Svetlana walked out, feeling her heart pounding from the storm of emotions inside her.
She knew Elena Petrovna was expecting a call. While she was at the dinner, her phone had vibrated several times with messages — her mother had already written: “Well, how did it go?”, “Did he propose?”, “Why are you silent?”
Sveta stubbornly ignored every one of them. She even turned the screen face down so she wouldn’t see the notifications. Talking at the table in that state would have been rude — and she had no desire to anyway.
But the moment Sveta closed the door of her own apartment behind her, she finally dialed her mother.
— Well? came Elena Petrovna’s voice without even a greeting. Tell me!
Sveta took a deep breath and began telling everything in order. About the apartment where you could barely walk from how many cabinets, carpets, and furniture there were. About how Lyudmila Andreyevna had practically interrogated her about her apartment. And about the final phrase that had made her hair stand on end: “You’ll get married, and we’ll move in with you.”
She expected sympathy. Understanding. At least a sigh of indignation. But instead, she heard a completely indifferent:
— So what? — said in a tone as if Sveta were complaining about the weather. — Do you have a line of suitors waiting for you or what?
Sveta froze.
— Mom… was all she could manage.
— You need to understand — not everyone gets such men! And parents are sacred. So you’ll put up with it. The main thing is you get married and have children.
Svetlana couldn’t breathe. Instead of support, she got another round of reproaches. Tears prickled her eyes, but she forced herself to speak calmly:
— I’m tired. I can’t talk anymore.
And without waiting for an answer, she hung up.
The apartment fell silent, the only sound being the steady ticking of the clock. Sveta sat down on the couch and felt utterly alone.
Andrey kept texting and calling, but Sveta didn’t answer. She read the messages, saw the calls, and every time her heart clenched with guilt. As if she were betraying not only him — but also that “good girl” she had always been expected to be.
She felt as though she was disappointing everyone. Her mother — by not rushing to marry. Andrey — by staying silent. His parents — by leaving the dinner abruptly. Even her father — though he hadn’t interfered, she imagined him thinking deep down: “Well, the daughter didn’t turn out right.”
Sveta had spent her whole life doing not what she wanted, but what others expected from her. Her mother, Andrey, his parents, colleagues, acquaintances… Please everyone. Impress everyone. Be convenient for everyone.
Only at work was she different. There, in her department-head office, she was herself. Confident, strict, even harsh at times. Subordinates respected her, management valued her. Sveta knew — in her profession lay her strength. But in life… she felt like a stranger in her own fate.
Three days passed after that disastrous evening. Her phone was still full of messages from Andrey, but by now Sveta understood — it was over. Everything between them was finished. All that was left was to gather the courage to say it.
And right at that moment, life threw her an unexpected offer. Her boss called her in and offered her to head a new branch of the company in another city.
— Svetlana Mikhailovna, we’re confident you can handle it, said the director. It’s a serious project, everything needs to be built from scratch. It’s growth — new horizons. And, of course, the salary matches that.
Sveta stared wide-eyed. She had expected scolding over some minor issue, or another pile of tasks — but not this.
— Think about it for a couple of days, but we’ll need an answer soon, he added.
When Sveta walked out of the office, her palms were sweaty, and her heart was pounding with excitement. This was a real chance — the kind that comes once in a lifetime. A chance to break free from the familiar circle, from her mother’s endless nagging, from the imposed relationship with Andrey…
That very evening, she made her decision.
Andrey was still on pause — he didn’t know it was already over. She had to tell him. But the harder conversation ahead was with her mother. Sveta could already imagine exactly how that call would go — and her heart ached at the mere thought of it.
She decided to call Andrey first and settle things. Her voice was calm and steady as she said:
— Let’s meet tonight after work. At the café near the park.
Andrey was delighted, as if she had made the first move toward reconciliation. When they sat down at the table and ordered coffee, he was glowing. Relief and joy shone in his eyes. Sveta even felt a pang of guilt: “He has no idea…”
But she couldn’t drag it out.
— Andrey, she began quietly, I have news. I’m moving to another city for work. They’re opening a branch, and I’m going to head it.
His smile faded.
— What do you mean, moving? But… we can still see each other, travel back and forth. I’ll wait for you.
Sveta took a deep breath:
— No. I’m selling my apartment here and will be living there. It won’t work between us.
His face shifted. Confusion gave way to anger. His voice suddenly rose to a shout:
— Are you kidding me? So I wasted my time on you for nothing? Worried my parents for nothing? Put up with everything for nothing?!
Sveta faltered:
— Andrey, I…
— I needed your apartment, don’t you get it?! he blurted out — and then immediately clamped up, as if afraid of what he’d just said.
Silence fell. Sveta stared at him wide-eyed while he grabbed his phone from the table, frowning.
— It’s all your fault, he muttered, and without even paying for his coffee, stormed out of the café.
Sveta was left alone. And suddenly, she felt a smile spreading across her face. “Well then… now everything is clear.”
She paid, walked outside, and sat on a bench in the park. She took out her phone and dialed her mother.
— Mom, I’m leaving in a month, she said calmly. To another city. I’m selling my apartment. I’ll live there.
A gasp immediately burst from the other end:
— Oh my God, Sveta! cried Elena Petrovna, as if clutching her heart. What are you thinking?! How will I live here without you?! You won’t manage there alone! And what about Andrey?! What about marriage?! You’ll end up an old maid if you only think about work!
Sveta listened calmly, without emotion. She hadn’t expected any other reaction.
— Mom, I’ve already decided, she said firmly and hung up.
The next month turned into a whirlwind. Paperwork, apartment showings, buyers, suitcases, boxes, a rented place in the new city, searching for a permanent home. Running around, errands, meetings, calls — and through it all, Sveta suddenly felt genuinely happy.
Free.
Every day filled her with such strength and joy that she almost forgot about Andrey and her mother’s yelling. A new life was ahead.
Four years passed.
Sveta settled into the new city, made her apartment cozy, managed to build the company’s branch literally from scratch, and in that time became one of the most respected executives. She was so busy that she sometimes forgot she once considered herself lonely.
Her mother kept trying to pressure her — crying, sulking, even persuading Mikhail Ivanovich not to call their daughter as punishment. But Sveta had long stopped reacting. She had too many tasks and plans to waste energy on her mother’s offenses.
In those four years, her parents never came — they didn’t see her apartment, her city, or the woman she had become. They still lived in their old complaints and conversations, while Sveta lived her new, truly her own life.
And it was then, when she turned thirty, that she met Yegor. It was nothing like the relationships her mother had once tried to force on her. No rush, no pain, no “you must.” Only warmth, respect, and the quiet certainty that this was the right person.
With Yegor, Sveta for the first time felt like a real woman — not a convenient daughter for a mother, not a strict boss, but simply a loved woman. He didn’t rush her, didn’t scold her, didn’t demand anything. He knew how to listen — truly listen. And when he proposed, she didn’t doubt for a second.
Sveta looked at the ring on her finger and smiled:
“So they do propose at thirty. And there’s nothing scary about it.”
Elena Petrovna never found out that her daughter had long been engaged and was preparing for her wedding. Ahead of Sveta lay her own family — and a new life.
