“I forbid you to go there!” Igor’s mother burst into our apartment without knocking, waving the printout of our trip.
“I forbid you to go there!” Galina Mikhailovna’s voice trembled with barely contained fury as she literally stormed into her son’s apartment without so much as a knock.
Lena froze with a pot in her hands, unable to believe her eyes. Her mother-in-law stood in the middle of their kitchen in an expensive fur coat, clutching some paper. Her face was flushed with indignation.
Igor jumped up from the table, where he had just been calmly having lunch with his wife.
“Mom, what happened? What are you talking about?”
Galina Mikhailovna threw the paper onto the table. It was a printout from a travel agency’s website—confirmation of a trip to Turkey for two.
“This is what happened! Neighbor Tamara saw you going into the travel agency! And she did the right thing telling me! How could you?”
Lena carefully set the pot on the stove and turned to her mother-in-law.
“Galina Mikhailovna, Igor and I have been planning this vacation for six months. What’s the problem?”
Her mother-in-law didn’t even look at her, continuing to glare at her son.
“The problem is that my only son is planning to abandon his own mother for two whole weeks! As if it’s not enough that you live separately—now you’re running off who knows where!”
“Mom, it’s just a vacation,” Igor tried to calm her. “We’ll be back in two weeks.”
“And what if something happens to me?” Galina Mikhailovna pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m sixty-eight! My blood pressure spikes, my joints ache! And you’ll be lying on a beach while I’m here all alone…”
Lena felt the familiar irritation rising inside her. In three years of marriage, she had counted at least dozens of such ‘heart episodes,’ which happened every time she and Igor planned anything without his mother’s involvement.
“Galina Mikhailovna, you have a phone. If anything happens, you can always call,” Lena said calmly.
For the first time, her mother-in-law looked at her—coldly and with contempt.
“I’m not speaking to you! This is all your doing! Before you, my son never left me!”
“Before me, your son was twenty-five,” Lena retorted. “Now he is thirty-two. People grow up, start families, go on vacations…”
“Don’t you teach me how to live!” Galina Mikhailovna cut her off. “I raised my son alone, without a husband! I dedicated my whole life to him! And now some…” She cast a pointed look at Lena, “some woman wants to take him away from me!”
Igor stepped between them, trying to defuse the situation.
“Mom, no one is taking anyone away. We just want to rest. Our first vacation in three years!”
“You can rest here!” his mother snapped. “At the dacha, for example. I would go too, get some fresh air…”
Lena rolled her eyes. The dacha was a whole saga of its own. Every weekend, Galina Mikhailovna demanded they come help her with the garden, repairs, cleaning. And every time she found a reason to criticize her daughter-in-law—she weeded the beds wrong, cooked lunch badly, washed the dishes improperly.
“We’ve already paid for the trip,” Igor said firmly. “And we’re not canceling it.”
His mother threw up her hands dramatically.
“Paid! And you didn’t ask me? I’m your mother, in case you forgot!”
“So what?” Lena couldn’t hold back. “Must we ask your permission for every step we take? We’re adults!”
“Igor!” His mother pointedly ignored Lena. “Will you let her talk to me like this?”
Igor looked helplessly from his mother to his wife.
“Mom, Lena is right. We have the right to take a vacation…”
“The right!” she mimicked mockingly. “And do you have any obligations to your mother? Or has she”—she nodded at Lena—“completely brainwashed you?”
Lena clenched her fists. “She.” Her mother-in-law’s favorite way of addressing her. In three years, she had never once called her by name—only “she,” “your wife,” or simply ignored her.
“You know what, Galina Mikhailovna,” Lena stepped forward, “I’ve had enough. Enough of your rudeness, your manipulation, your hysterics! We are going on vacation, whether you like it or not!”
Her mother-in-law turned crimson.
“Igor! Did you hear that? She’s insulting your mother!”
“I’m telling the truth!” Lena couldn’t stop anymore. “You control our every step, call ten times a day, demand reports about where we are and with whom! That’s not normal!”
“What’s not normal is when a son forgets his mother!” Galina Mikhailovna shouted. “When a wife turns him against his own mother!”
“I’m not turning anyone against anyone! I just want to live my own life!”
“Your own?” She laughed bitterly. “And the apartment you live in—whose is it? Should I remind you who gave the money for the down payment?”
There it was. Her mother-in-law’s trump card. Indeed, when they bought the apartment, she gave them three hundred thousand for the down payment. And since then, she reminded them of it at every opportunity.
“We’re paying you back every month,” Lena reminded her. “Twenty thousand, as agreed!”
“Money is one thing, gratitude is another!” the mother-in-law snapped. “A well-brought-up girl would appreciate her mother-in-law’s help instead of being rude!”
“A well-brought-up mother-in-law wouldn’t barge into our home uninvited!” Lena shot back.
“This is my son’s apartment!”
“And mine too! We’re married, in case you forgot!”
Galina Mikhailovna snorted disdainfully.
“Married… We’ll see for how long!” she spat. “Igor”—she turned to her son, who had remained silent the whole time—“it’s either me or her! Choose!”
Silence fell over the kitchen. Lena watched her husband, holding her breath. This was it—the moment of truth. For three years she had endured her mother-in-law’s antics, hoping Igor would one day put his mother in her place. And now that moment had finally arrived.
Igor had gone pale, his eyes darting between his mother and his wife.
“Mom, don’t give me ultimatums…”
“I must!” snapped Galina Mikhailovna. “I will no longer tolerate rudeness from this person! Either you divorce her, or forget you ever had a mother!”
Lena felt her heart drop. Was the mother-in-law really willing to go that far?
“Mom, you can’t be serious…” Igor murmured.
“I have never been more serious! I’m tired of being humiliated! Your wife doesn’t respect me, she’s rude, she turns you against me! I won’t put up with it anymore!”
Igor stood between the two women like between a hammer and an anvil. Lena could see how desperately he was trying to find a way out.
“Let’s all calm down,” he finally said. “Mom, go home, cool off. We’ll talk later…”
“No!” Galina Mikhailovna stomped her foot. “I’m not going anywhere until I hear your answer! Who do you choose?”
Igor took a deep breath and looked at his mother.
“Mom, I love you. You’re my mother, and that will never change. But Lena is my wife. I made a vow to her before people and before God. And I’m not going to break it.”
Galina Mikhailovna recoiled as if struck.
“So you choose her?”
“I choose my family,” Igor said firmly. “And you will always be part of this family, if you want to be. But you have to respect my wife. And our decisions.”
“Respect?” Galina Mikhailovna laughed hysterically. “Respect this… this…”
“Enough!” Igor raised his voice—something he did extremely rarely. “Mom, I’m asking you to leave. Now. When you calm down, call me and we’ll talk peacefully.”
Galina Mikhailovna looked at her son as if seeing him for the first time.
“I raised an ungrateful son,” she hissed through her teeth. “I devoted my whole life to you, and you… for the sake of some outsider woman…”
“Lena is not an outsider. She’s my wife,” Igor interrupted. “And if you can’t accept that, then… I’m very sorry.”
Without another word, Galina Mikhailovna turned and headed toward the door. She stopped at the threshold, turning back.
“You’ll regret this, Igor. When she leaves you—and she will, you’ll see—don’t come crying to me!”
The door slammed shut with a thunderous bang.
Igor and Lena remained standing in the middle of the kitchen. For several minutes, they stayed silent, processing what had just happened.
“Thank you,” Lena said quietly.
Igor pulled her into his arms, holding her close.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to do this. I just… she’s my mother…”
“I understand,” Lena murmured into his shoulder. “But I was starting to think you’d never take my side.”
“I’ve always been on your side. I just… didn’t want to hurt her. She really did raise me alone, sacrificed a lot…”
“But that doesn’t give her the right to control your life,” Lena said gently. “You have the right to your own family, your own decisions.”
Igor nodded.
“You know, maybe this is for the best. You can’t live under her dictate forever.”
The next few days passed in strange silence. Galina Mikhailovna didn’t call, which was completely unlike her. Usually she phoned several times a day, monitoring her son’s every step.
“Maybe I should call her?” Igor suggested on the third day. “What if something happened to her?”
Lena shook her head.
“This is manipulation, Igor. She’s waiting for you to run to her with apologies.”
“But what if she’s sick…”
“If she was sick, she would’ve called ten times already to tell you,” Lena pointed out reasonably. “Your mother isn’t the type to suffer in silence.”
And indeed, on the fifth day, Galina Mikhailovna resurfaced. But not personally—Igor’s aunt Vera, her sister, called him.
“Igoryok, what happened over there?” she asked anxiously. “Galya can’t find a place for herself, she cries all day long!”
“Aunt Vera, Mom created this situation herself,” Igor replied tiredly. “She gave me an ultimatum—either my mother or my wife. What was I supposed to do?”
“Well, I don’t know… maybe you could’ve been softer… She did raise you alone!”
“And I’m grateful for that. But that doesn’t mean I have to live my entire life according to her instructions.”
Aunt Vera sighed.
“Igoryok, she doesn’t mean harm. She just fears losing you. You’re her only one.”
“I’m not going anywhere. But she has to accept that I have a wife. And respect her.”
“I’ll try to talk to her,” Vera promised. “But you think about it too—maybe you should make peace? She’s still your mother…”
After the call, Igor sat silently for a long time, thinking.
“Maybe I should be the one to reconcile first?” he asked Lena.
“And what will change?” she countered. “You’ll apologize, she’ll pretend to forgive you, and everything will go back to how it was. She’ll keep controlling our life, insulting me, manipulating you.”
“But she’s my mother…”
“I’m not asking you to cut her off. I’m asking just one thing—that she treat me with respect. Is that really too much?”
Igor shook his head.
“No, you’re right. If we give in now, nothing will ever change.”
A week passed. Their vacation was three days away, and they were busy packing. Their mood was bright—they finally felt free from the constant pressure of his mother.
And then the doorbell rang.
On the doorstep stood Galina Mikhailovna. But not proud and combative as usual—she looked deflated, older, subdued.
“May I come in?” she asked softly.
Igor stepped aside awkwardly to let his mother in. Lena came out of the bedroom and froze at the sight of her.
“I… I wanted to talk,” Galina Mikhailovna said, looking at Lena without hostility for the first time. “To both of you.”
They went to the living room. She sat down, hands clasped tightly on her knees.
“I’ve done a lot of thinking these past days,” she began. “Vera talked to me, and… well, I realized I was wrong.”
Lena and Igor exchanged glances. They had not expected this turn.
“I was really afraid of losing my son,” she continued. “He’s my only one, I invested so much into him… And when you appeared, Lena, I… I panicked. I thought I would become unnecessary.”
“Mom, you will never be unnecessary,” Igor said softly.
“I understand that now. But then… I felt like you were abandoning me. And I began to fight. Silly, isn’t it?”
She gave a sad smile.
“You know, I have a friend, Nina. Her son married too. She kept telling me—don’t meddle, let them live. And I didn’t listen. Thought she was just a cold mother. Turns out she’s wise. She has wonderful relations with her daughter-in-law, her grandchildren adore her…”
She lifted her eyes to Lena.
“I’m sorry, Lena. I behaved horribly. Called you ‘that one,’ insulted you, belittled you… I’m ashamed.”
Lena didn’t know what to say. For three years she had grown accustomed to the hostility, and now this sudden shift…
“I… I understand how you felt, Galina Mikhailovna. In your place, I might have worried too.”
“No, don’t excuse me. I was wrong. And I want to ask both of you for forgiveness. And if you give me a chance, I’ll try to change.”
“Of course, Mom,” Igor stood and hugged her. “We’re family. All of us.”
She sniffled, holding onto her son.
“I was so afraid I’d lost you forever…”
“No one has lost anyone,” Lena said, placing a hesitant hand on her mother-in-law’s shoulder. “We all just needed time to find balance.”
Galina Mikhailovna looked at her with tears in her eyes.
“You’re a good girl, Lena. And I’m glad my son has a wife like you. Truly.”
They sat together drinking tea, talking—calmly, without reproaches, for the first time in three years.
“By the way, about your vacation,” she said. “Go. Rest. You deserve it. I’ll… watch the apartment while you’re gone. Water the plants, if needed.”
“Thank you, Mom,” Igor smiled.
“And one more thing,” she took an envelope from her bag. “This is for you. For your trip.”
“Mom, you don’t have to—” Igor began, but she raised her hand to silence him.
“I do. Consider it my apology. And… a wedding gift. A very late one.”
Inside the envelope were fifty thousand.
“Galina Mikhailovna, that’s too much,” Lena protested.
“Nothing is too much. You’ve paid me so much over the years for that down payment. And I… I want you to start fresh. With no debts to me.”
When she left, Igor and Lena sat together on the sofa, wrapped in each other’s arms.
“I can’t believe this happened,” Lena said.
“Me neither. But I’m glad. Glad it ended this way.”
“Do you think she’ll really change?”
“I don’t know. But she’ll at least try. And we should give her that chance.”
Lena nodded.
“You know… maybe we could invite her somewhere for a weekend? After we come back?”
Igor looked at her in surprise.
“You’re serious?”
“Well, she’s trying. And she’s your mother. Our family.”
He kissed her.
“Thank you. For your patience, for your understanding. For not forcing me to make the final choice.”
“I would never make you choose between me and your mother. That’s cruel. I just wanted us to be treated with respect.”
“And you achieved that.”
“We achieved that,” Lena corrected. “Together.”
Three days later, they flew to Turkey. At the airport, Galina Mikhailovna came to see them off, brought homemade pastries for the road, and—shyly—hugged her daughter-in-law goodbye.
“Have a wonderful rest, children. And… take care of each other.”
On the plane, Lena looked out the window at the receding earth and thought that sometimes a crisis is what it takes to become a real family. And that respect can’t be demanded—only earned. From both sides.
