“Why didn’t you prepare for Mom’s visit? 🤨” shouted her husband, even though just a week ago he had declared that they’d have separate budgets.
Natalia sat in the kitchen, watching as the wind outside tore the last leaves from the trees. October had turned out cold and rainy. The apartment was chilly too — the heating had only been turned on a few days earlier, and the radiators hadn’t yet warmed up properly.
She finished her tea and looked at the clock.
Half past seven in the evening. Her husband should have been home from work an hour ago, but he still hadn’t shown up. Not that Natalia particularly cared. Lately, Viktor had been coming home later and later, always blaming overtime and delays.
Their daughter Vika was in her room doing homework. The girl was nine years old and in the second grade — good, obedient, diligent. Natalia was proud of her.
The woman stood up from the table and went to the fridge. She opened the door — almost empty. A bit of chicken, a pack of pasta, a few eggs. There wasn’t money for much more. Natalia had been paid three days ago, but nearly half the salary was already gone — spent on Vika’s school needs and the internet bill.
Natalia worked as a manager in a small trading company. The salary was modest but stable. It used to be enough — back when her husband also contributed to the family budget. Used to be.
She closed the fridge and returned to the table. Sat down and picked up her phone again, scrolling through the news without reading it. Her thoughts were elsewhere.
A week ago, there had been a huge argument. Viktor had come home angry, thrown his bag on the couch, and started ranting that there wasn’t enough money, that he had to pay for everything himself, that Natalia earned too little and didn’t understand how hard it was to support a family.
Natalia had finally snapped. She reminded him that she also worked, also earned money, also paid for the apartment and groceries. That over the past six months Viktor had been bringing home less and less, always citing loans and debts she hadn’t even known existed.
Her husband exploded even more. He shouted that he was tired of carrying the whole burden alone, that he wouldn’t give anyone anything anymore, that from now on they’d have separate budgets. Everyone for themselves.
Natalia silently nodded. Fine. Separate it is.
The next day, she stopped buying food for him. She cooked only for herself and her daughter. She split the utility bills in half — paid her part and left the other half for Viktor. Nothing shared anymore.
For the first two days, her husband stayed silent. He’d come home, look at the table set for two — Natalia and Vika — and go to his room. Then he started ordering takeout or buying ready meals from the store.
But after a few days, it became clear that Viktor didn’t like this kind of life. He started grumbling — at first quietly, then louder and louder.
“There’s nothing to eat in the fridge,” Viktor muttered, standing in front of the open door.
“Buy yourself something,” Natalia replied without looking up from her phone.
“Only porridge on the table again,” her husband continued, peering into the pot.
“That’s for Vika and me. You wanted separate budgets,” Natalia reminded him calmly.
Viktor frowned but didn’t argue. It was his own idea, after all.
A week passed. Natalia got used to the new arrangement. Life even became easier — no need to think about what to cook for her husband or buy extra groceries. Just for herself and her daughter.
Viktor looked increasingly dissatisfied. He mostly ate takeout and ready-made meals. He was losing weight, turning pale, but refused to admit he had made a mistake.
On Friday evening, he came home earlier than usual. Natalia was just making dinner — roasting chicken with potatoes. The smell filled the entire apartment.
Viktor walked into the kitchen and sniffed the air.
“Smells good,” he muttered.
“Dinner’s for Vika and me,” Natalia replied without turning around.
“I see,” Viktor said, stood there for a moment, and left the kitchen.
Half an hour later, Natalia set the table and called her daughter. Vika came running and sat down. Natalia served the chicken and potatoes — two portions.
Viktor came out of his room, looked at the table, and his face darkened.
“And nothing for me?” he asked.
“You wanted a separate budget. This is my food. Bought with my money,” Natalia said calmly.
“I live in this house too!”
“Yes. And you can cook for yourself. Or order something. Whatever you like.”
Viktor clenched his fists but stayed silent. He turned and went back to his room, slamming the door.
Natalia and Vika ate quietly. The girl glanced at her mother but didn’t ask anything. She could tell it was better to stay silent.
After dinner, Natalia cleared the table and washed the dishes. Vika went to her room. Natalia sat on the couch, turned on the TV, and started watching some show, though her thoughts were far away.
How did it come to this? They used to live normally — not rich, but not poor either. There was enough for everything. And now? Viktor had become a stranger. Angry, irritable, constantly dissatisfied.
Natalia sighed and changed the channel.
On Saturday morning, she woke to the sound of the door opening. Viktor came out of the bedroom, dressed and ready.
“I’m going to my mother’s,” he said curtly and left the apartment.
Natalia watched him go and shrugged. Fine.
The day passed peacefully. Natalia and Vika cleaned the apartment and went shopping. They bought some groceries — enough for a week. In the evening, they watched a cartoon and played a board game. A cozy family evening.
Viktor came home late, after midnight. Natalia was asleep. He quietly went to the bedroom and lay down on his side of the bed. In the morning, he got up early and left again without saying a word.
On Sunday evening, Viktor finally spoke. He sat across from Natalia and looked her straight in the eyes.
“Mom’s coming. For a few days. She’ll help around the house,” he said.
Natalia raised her eyebrows.
“When?”
“Wednesday evening.”
“Fine. And what am I supposed to do?”
“Clean up. Cook properly. Mom shouldn’t go hungry,” Viktor snapped and stood up from the table.
Natalia followed him with her eyes, anger rising inside. So that’s how it was? Separate budgets — but his mother had to be fed?
She didn’t say anything. Just got up and went to her room.
The next few days, Natalia “prepared” for her mother-in-law’s visit — meaning she didn’t. She lived as usual. Worked, came home, cooked for herself and her daughter, cleaned only her own things, washed only her own dishes.
Viktor grew darker each day but stayed silent. A few times he looked into the fridge, frowned, but said nothing.
On Wednesday, Natalia came home from work at six. She changed clothes and made dinner for herself and Vika — mashed potatoes with cutlets. Two portions.
At half past seven, the doorbell rang. Viktor opened it. On the threshold stood Lidiya Stepanovna, Natalia’s mother-in-law — a woman of about sixty, plump, with dyed red hair and a loud voice.
“Vitenka!” Lidiya exclaimed, hugging her son.
“Hi, Mom. Come in,” Viktor said, taking her bag and carrying it to the room.
Natalia came out into the hallway.
“Good evening, Lidiya Stepanovna,” she greeted dryly.
“Oh, Natasha dear!” the older woman looked her over. “You’ve lost weight. Are you ill?”
“No. Everything’s fine.”
“That’s good. And where’s my granddaughter, little Vika?”
“In her room, doing homework.”
“Such a good girl. Studying hard. And what have you made for dinner? I’m hungry from the trip.” Lidiya stepped into the kitchen, taking off her coat and tossing it onto a chair as she went.
Natalia watched her and smiled faintly. It had begun.
Her mother-in-law opened the pot on the stove and peered inside.
“Mashed potatoes? That’s it? Where’s the meat? A salad? You could’ve tried a little harder — I came a long way,” Lidiya scolded, shaking her head.
“That’s dinner for me and Vika. We’ve already eaten,” Natalia replied calmly, standing in the doorway.
“What do you mean, for you? What about me?” Lidiya turned toward her.
“Nothing for you. Viktor and I have separate budgets. He decided that himself a week ago. So I cook only for myself and my daughter.”
Lidiya’s mouth fell open, but she said nothing. She looked at her son, who was standing behind Natalia.
“Vitya, is this true?”
Viktor turned red.
“Mom, it’s… complicated…”
“What’s complicated about it?” Natalia interrupted. “You wanted separate budgets — you’ve got one. Now everyone’s on their own.” She turned and walked out of the room.
A voice called out behind her — her mother-in-law’s.
“Vitya! How could you?! I’m your mother! You have to feed me!”
“Mom, calm down. We’ll figure something out…”
Natalia closed the door and sat on the bed. Vika was sitting at her desk doing homework. The girl looked up at her mother.
“Mom, did Grandma come?”
“Yes, sweetheart.”
“Why is she yelling?”
“Don’t pay attention. She’ll calm down soon.”
Vika nodded and went back to her books.
Natalia lay down on the bed and closed her eyes. The noise from the kitchen continued. Lidiya Stepanovna was complaining loudly, Viktor was trying to explain himself. Then the front door slammed — apparently, her husband had gone to the store to buy food for his mother.
Natalia smirked. There it was — the “separate budget” worked both ways.
An hour later, Viktor returned with bags of groceries. Natalia heard him cooking in the kitchen while his mother gave him orders and advice.
Soon the smell of frying filled the apartment — Viktor was making cutlets. Natalia lay quietly, listening. She wondered how long he’d last living like this.
About half an hour later, the apartment grew quiet. They must have eaten. Natalia got up and went into the corridor, then to the kitchen. Viktor and Lidiya were sitting at the table, plates with leftovers in front of them.
“Can I get some water?” Natalia asked.
“Of course,” Viktor muttered without looking up.
She poured herself a glass, drank, rinsed it, and set it on the rack. Then she turned to her mother-in-law.
“Lidiya Stepanovna, where will you be sleeping?”
“On the couch, I suppose. If it’s clean, of course,” the older woman replied, giving Natalia an appraising look.
“It’s clean. Make yourself comfortable,” Natalia said and walked out of the kitchen.
Behind her, she heard Lidiya’s voice again:
“Vitya, what’s wrong with your wife? She’s become strange. Cold.”
“Mom, not now,” Viktor replied wearily.
Natalia returned to the bedroom and closed the door. She sat on the bed. Vika was already asleep under her blanket, tired from the day.
Natalia lay down beside her and gently hugged her daughter. She felt calm. Let Viktor deal with his mother now — let him feed her, entertain her. Natalia wasn’t going to carry the load anymore.
The next morning, she woke up early, got ready for work, and woke Vika. The girl had breakfast and got dressed. Natalia walked her to school, then went to the office.
The day passed as usual — work, calls, documents. Natalia tried not to think about what was happening at home. She came back around six in the evening.
When she opened the door, the apartment was silent. Too silent. Natalia took off her coat and went to the kitchen. Lidiya was sitting at the table, her face sour. Viktor stood by the window, staring outside.
“Good evening,” Natalia said as she walked to the fridge.
“Hello,” the mother-in-law replied curtly.
Natalia opened the fridge, took out some chicken, and started preparing dinner — for herself and Vika, as usual.
“Natalya, what are you cooking?” Lidiya asked.
“Dinner. For myself and my daughter.”
“And for us?”
“For you — nothing. Viktor wanted a separate budget, and he got it. Now everyone’s on their own,” Natalia said calmly, slicing the meat.
“What do you mean, nothing?! I’m a guest! You’re supposed to feed me!”
“Viktor invited you. Let him feed you,” Natalia answered evenly.
Lidiya jumped up from the table, her face flushed.
“Are you mocking me?! I’m your mother-in-law! You should respect me!”
“I do respect you. But I’m not going to feed you. I don’t have the money. We have separate budgets,” Natalia said, placing the meat in the frying pan.
The older woman turned to her son.
“Vitya! Did you hear what your wife just said? Say something!”
Viktor stepped away from the window and approached Natalia.
“Why didn’t you make dinner?!” he shouted, waving his hands.
Natalia turned to him — calm, emotionless.
“Because a week ago, you announced we’d have separate budgets. Remember? Everyone for themselves. I cook for myself and my daughter with my own money. You can cook for yourself and your mother with yours.”
“But she’s a guest! You have to feed her!” Viktor yelled.
“Have to?” Natalia smirked. “By what rule? You invited her — you feed her. I don’t have money for another mouth.”
“What do you mean, you don’t? You just got paid!”
“Yes, and I spent it on my needs — for Vika and for myself. For groceries for the two of us. The rest is mine. My budget. Separate. Or have you forgotten?”
Viktor opened his mouth but said nothing. His face had gone pale.
Natalia pulled her wallet from her pocket, opened it, and showed him. It was empty.
“See? Empty. Because I spend my money on myself and my daughter — not on you, not on your mother. If you want to feed your guests, go to the store, buy food, cook it yourself — with your own money.”
“You’ve lost your mind!” Viktor groaned, clutching his head.
“No,” Natalia said quietly. “I’m just following your own rules. Separate budget — remember? You made that decision. Now live by it.”
Lidiya stepped closer, taking her son’s hand.
“Vitenka, I don’t understand. What’s going on here? Why is your wife acting like this?”
“Mom, it’s… complicated,” Viktor muttered, looking away.
“What’s complicated?! A woman should know her duties! She should feed her family! Take care of her home!” Lidiya shouted indignantly.
Natalia flipped the chicken in the pan without turning around.
“Lidiya Stepanovna, if that’s what you believe, then go to the store with your son. Buy some groceries. Cook for yourselves. I don’t mind. Just do it with your own money. Mine are mine.”
“How dare you talk to me like that?!” the older woman shrieked.
“I’m not giving orders,” Natalia replied evenly. “Just explaining the situation. If you’re hungry, cook. Or order food. The choice is yours.”
Lidiya Stepanovna turned to her son.
“Vitya! I can’t take this anymore! Get me out of here! I won’t stay in a house where I’m not respected!”
“Mom, calm down…”
“I will not calm down! This doesn’t happen in decent families! A wife must cook for everyone — it’s her duty!”
Natalia turned off the stove, moved the chicken to a plate, and set it on the table. One plate.
“In decent families,” she said evenly, “husbands don’t declare separate budgets. But your son did. So now we live by new rules — his rules.”
Her mother-in-law’s face turned crimson. She grabbed her purse.
“That’s it! I’m leaving! Vitya, get ready! You’re coming with me!”
“Mom, where? It’s already late…”
“I don’t care! To a hotel, to the train station, anywhere! But I’m not staying here another minute!” Lidiya pulled on her coat and grabbed her suitcase.
Viktor looked helplessly from his mother to his wife. Natalia calmly ate her chicken, ignoring the scene.
“Vitya! Are you coming or not?!” his mother shouted from the doorway.
He sighed, went to the bedroom, and came out a minute later wearing his jacket. He picked up his keys.
“I’ll walk Mom out. I’ll be back later,” Viktor said flatly and left.
Natalia finished her tea, stood up, cleared the table, and washed the dishes. Then she went to pick up Vika from her after-school program — it was Thursday, and the girl stayed late.
They came home around eight. Viktor wasn’t there. Natalia fed her daughter and put her to bed. Then she lay down on the sofa and turned on the TV.
Viktor came home late — past midnight. He went straight to the bedroom without even looking into the living room. Natalia watched him go and turned off the TV.
In the morning, Viktor left early. Natalia woke when the front door slammed. It was half past six. She got up, washed, and woke Vika.
The day went by as usual — work, errands, groceries. In the evening, Natalia came home to find Viktor sitting in the kitchen. His keys lay on the table in front of him.
“Give me the second set,” she said, taking off her coat.
“Why?” Viktor looked up.
“Because I don’t want guests entering my apartment without my permission. Your mother caused a scene yesterday. That won’t happen again.”
“Are you serious?”
“Absolutely. The apartment is mine — legally. I bought it before we got married. So I have every right to decide who comes here and who doesn’t.”
Viktor was silent for a moment, then pulled the second set of keys from his pocket and placed them on the table.
“Here.”
Natalia took the keys and slipped them into her bag.
“Thank you. And one more thing — from now on, tell me in advance if you plan to bring someone over. I have the right to know who’s entering my home.”
“Your home?” Viktor smirked.
“Yes. Mine. On paper. You live here because I allow it. But it’s my apartment — and my rules.”
Her husband stood up, walked past her into the bedroom, and slammed the door.
Natalia stayed in the kitchen, standing still for a moment. Inside, she felt calm. Very calm. For the first time in a long while.
A few days passed. Viktor moved around sullenly, barely speaking. Natalia went on with her life — working, cooking for herself and Vika, keeping the home. Viktor ate delivery or store-bought meals.
On Saturday, Natalia woke up late — around ten. Viktor was already up, sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee.
“I need to talk,” he said when she walked in.
“I’m listening.” She sat down across from him.
“I realized I was wrong. The separate budget — it was a mistake. Let’s go back to how things were.”
Natalia looked at him for a long moment — calm, steady.
“No.”
“What?”
“No. The separate budget stays. You showed me how you really feel about money — and about my work. Now I’ll live differently. Everyone for themselves.”
“That’s ridiculous! We’re husband and wife!”
“Husband and wife should respect each other. You don’t respect me. You think I should do everything alone — cook, clean, earn money — while you just show up and make demands. That won’t happen anymore.”
Viktor turned pale.
“So you want us to keep living like this? Separately?”
“Yes. Until you understand that a family isn’t your personal restaurant with free service. Until you learn to respect my work and my time. Until you learn to stand by your words.”
He sat there in silence, staring at the table.
“And one more thing,” Natalia added. “If you don’t like it, you can move out. Go to your mother’s — she’ll be glad to have you.”
“You’re kicking me out?”
“No. Just offering an option. Since living by your own rules seems so hard.”
Viktor stood up and went to the bedroom. Natalia finished her coffee and went to Vika’s room. The girl was drawing.
“Mom, why does Dad look so sad?” Vika asked without looking up.
“He’s just tired, sweetheart. Don’t worry.”
“Okay.” The girl nodded and kept drawing.
Natalia stroked her daughter’s hair and quietly left the room.
Another week passed. Viktor remained silent but continued living in the apartment. He cooked for himself, cleaned up after himself, bought his own food. Natalia did the same — only for herself and her daughter.
One evening, her husband tried to start a conversation again.
“Natalya, maybe that’s enough? Let’s make peace.”
“There’s nothing to make peace about. We didn’t fight. We’re just living by new rules.”
“But this isn’t normal!”
“Why not? Don’t you like the rules you created yourself?”
Viktor fell silent.
A month later, he moved out. He rented a room from some acquaintances, saying it would be easier that way. Natalia nodded. She didn’t try to stop him.
As Viktor was packing his things, Vika stood in the doorway watching.
“Dad, are you leaving?”
“Yes, sweetheart. But I’ll come visit you.”
“Okay,” the girl nodded.
Viktor hugged his daughter, picked up his bags, and walked out of the apartment. Natalia watched him go, then closed the door behind him.
Vika came up to her mother and hugged her around the waist.
“Mom, are we alone now?”
“Yes, sweetheart. It’s just us now.”
“I like it. It’s quiet and peaceful.”
Natalia smiled and stroked her daughter’s hair.
“I like it too, Vikusha. I really do.”
That evening, after her daughter had gone to bed, Natalia sat on the sofa. She turned on the TV but didn’t really watch. She was thinking.
Was it worth it? Yes. Absolutely. Because now the apartment was filled with silence — calm, pleasant silence. No shouting, no demands, no reproaches.
Natalia lived on her own money and decided herself how to spend it. She cooked what she wanted. Invited over whom she wanted. And no one could tell her what to do.
The separate budget had turned out to be the best decision of all. Because it revealed her husband’s true face — that for Viktor, only his comfort and desires mattered. To him, his wife had been nothing more than a free housekeeper.
Now Natalia was free. Free from someone else’s demands, from someone else’s expectations. She could live exactly the way she wanted. And that was the best thing that could have happened to her.
She turned off the TV and stood up. Went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Food for herself and for Vika. No extra mouths. No obligations to those who didn’t value her effort.
Natalia closed the fridge and smiled. Tomorrow was a new day. A new life.
A life where she made the rules herself.
And it was wonderful.
