“You will do everything I tell you. Do you understand me?” the groom roared, gripping the bride’s shoulders in front of the guests.
“You will do everything I tell you. Do you understand me?” Igor bellowed, gripping Marina’s shoulders so hard that the white fabric of her dress wrinkled under his fingers.
“Let go, it hurts!” she tried to pull away, but his grip only tightened.
“This is my house, my rules! If I want to, I’ll throw your mother out on the street right now!”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Tears of fury glimmered in the bride’s eyes.
The wedding hall fell silent. Two hundred guests stared at the groom and bride standing in the middle of the dance floor. The music cut off mid-note.
Marina was sorting through fabric samples in the bridal salon when Igor called.
“Where the hell are you? I’ve been waiting for half an hour!”
“I told you, I’m choosing a dress with Mom.”
“Your mommy is sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong again? How much longer?!”
She swallowed her hurt. For the third time that week he had snapped over nothing. Yesterday he made a scene because she bought the wrong kind of coffee. The day before that—because she talked too long on the phone with a friend.
“Igor, we agreed…”
“Shut up and come home. Now!”
The call ended. Her mother gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Marinka… maybe don’t go? Look at you—you’re trembling.”
“Mom, he’s just tired from work. He has an important contract, he’s stressed.”
“Sweetheart, he’s always stressed. From the very beginning.”
Marina turned toward the mirror. In the reflection—a pale woman with extinguished eyes. When had she become like this?
Igor insisted that Marina’s mother move in with them a month before the wedding. “She’ll help with the preparations,” he said. Marina couldn’t believe her luck—he usually couldn’t stand her mother.
Anna Petrovna arrived with two suitcases and her cat, Murka.
“I’m not letting that cat into the house!” Igor snapped. “I’m allergic.”
“What allergy?” Marina asked, surprised. “You lived with my cat for a year when we were dating.”
“Shut up! I said I’m allergic—so I’m allergic!”
They gave Murka to a neighbor. Anna Petrovna silently unpacked her things in the room assigned to her—the smallest one, next to the storage closet.
“Mom, I’m sorry. I didn’t know about his allergy.”
“Marinka, open your eyes. He’s just a tyrant.”
“Don’t talk like that about my fiancé!”
But doubts were already gnawing at her. How had she not noticed before how he cut her off mid-sentence? How he humiliated her in front of friends? How he controlled her every step?
A week before the wedding, Marina was trying on her dress. Igor barged into the room without knocking.
“What is this rag? The neckline is like a wh—’s!”
“Igor, it’s a classic design…”
“Silence! You’ll look like a prostitute in front of my partners!”
He grabbed scissors from the vanity table and slashed the corset. The expensive lace tore with a loud rip.
“What are you doing?!” Marina rushed toward the dress.
“Teaching you to obey!” he raised the scissors again…
Anna Petrovna burst into the room.
“Don’t you dare touch my daughter, you bastard!”
“This is my house, you old hag! If I want to, I’ll throw both of you out on the street!”
“Just try it!” her mother stepped between them.
Igor hurled the scissors at the wall and stormed out, slamming the door.
Marina couldn’t sleep. The wedding was tomorrow. Two hundred guests. The restaurant paid for. The gifts bought. How could she cancel everything?
Her mother knocked on the door.
“Not asleep? I brought you tea. With mint, just the way you like it.”
They sat on the bed like they used to when Marina was a child.
“Mom, I’m scared.”
“Don’t marry him, Marinka. Don’t ruin your life.”
“But what will people say?”
“To hell with people! You matter more!”
Marina hugged her mother. She smelled of valerian drops and home. When was the last time she had felt safe?
“You know, Mom, I remembered something. When we first met, he was different. Attentive, caring.”
“They’re all like that in the beginning. Until they’re sure they’ve got you.”
Her phone buzzed. A message from Igor: ‘If you pull anything tomorrow — you’ll regret it. I’ll leave your mommy out on the street.’
The morning began with a scandal. Igor stormed into the bride’s room.
“Why isn’t your hair the way I told you?”
“Igor, get out! The groom isn’t supposed to see the bride before the ceremony!”
“Shut up! Fix it immediately!”
The hairdresser shrank into the corner in fear. The bridesmaids exchanged glances.
“Igor, calm down, please,” Marina tried to keep her composure.
“You’re embarrassing me, you idiot!”
He grabbed a bottle of hairspray and threw it at the mirror. The glass shattered into a thousand pieces.
“That’s it! There will be no wedding!” Anna Petrovna shouted.
“One more word, old woman, and I’ll throw you out of here right now! Along with your pathetic daughter!”
Marina stared at the shards. In each one—her distorted reflection. Like her life.
At the registry office Igor was the picture of politeness. He smiled at the guests, joked with his friends. Marina stood beside him like a doll.
“Do you agree to take as your husband…”
The registrar’s words sounded as if underwater. Marina looked into the hall. Her mother sat in the front row, clutching a handkerchief. Their eyes met.
“I… I…”
“Come on already, stop dragging this out!” Igor hissed.
“I agree,” she forced out.
The ring was tight. Igor had purposely bought a smaller size. “So you won’t lose it,” he’d said. But she knew the real reason — so she couldn’t take it off.
The first dance. Igor squeezed her waist so hard it hurt to breathe.
“Smile, idiot! People are watching!”
“Igor, you’re hurting me…”
“Deal with it! I spent half a million on this wedding!”
After the dance, Marina sat down at the table. Her mother approached.
“Sweetheart, you’re pale as a sheet.”
“Mom, I can’t do this anymore…”
“Then leave. Right now.”
“How? The guests…”
At that moment, Igor grabbed the microphone.
“Dear guests! I want to say a few words about my wife! From now on she’ll do everything I say! Because I’m the one in charge here!”
The guests clapped awkwardly. Someone laughed nervously.
“And her dear mother better learn her place! In my house, my word is the law!”
Anna Petrovna stood up.
“You scoundrel!”
She walked up to Igor and slapped him. The hall gasped.
“You’ll do everything I say. Do you understand me?” Igor roared, gripping Marina’s shoulders.
But instead of tears, fire flashed in her eyes.
“No. I won’t.”
She tore herself away and tried to remove the ring. The tight band wouldn’t budge. Marina pulled harder, scraping her skin.
“What are you doing, you idiot?!”
“I’m leaving you. And I’m saying it in front of everyone — I’m leaving!”
She threw the ring at his face. Igor recoiled.
“Where do you think you’ll go? You have nothing!”
“But she has me,” Anna Petrovna took her daughter’s hand. “Let’s go, Marinotchka. Enough.”
They walked through the hall. Two hundred pairs of eyes followed them. Someone began to clap. Then another. The applause grew.
“You’ll crawl back! Do you hear me?! Crawl back on your knees!” Igor shouted after them.
At the exit, Marina turned around.
“You know what, Igor? I’m even grateful. For showing your true colors before the stamp in the passport.”
It was drizzling outside. The white dress soaked within seconds. Marina took off her shoes and walked barefoot through the puddles.
“Mom, what now?”
“Now, sweetheart, you’re free.”
A week later Igor really did throw them out of the apartment. Took all the gifts. Spread filthy rumors.
But Marina no longer cried. She rented a room on the edge of town, worked two jobs, and fell asleep happy.
Because she woke up without fear.
And Igor married someone else a year later. They say she wore a white dress too. And she cried, too.
But they weren’t tears of joy.
