— Before the holidays, we need to do a thorough cleaning. Come clean our apartment. Kolya said you’re free this weekend.
— Anna Dmitrievna, I… I have my own plans. Lena and I—
— You can always do your own place later! — she cut her off. — And I’m old, it’s hard for me. You’re obliged to help us.
Irina got up at six in the morning—as always. Quietly, on tiptoe so as not to wake her daughter Lena, she went to the kitchen, switched on the kettle, and while the water was heating, picked up her phone.
She had been doing this every morning for the past three months—opening the bank’s mobile app and counting the days until payday. There was almost no money left on the card, and her salary wasn’t due until next week.
She put the phone away, exhaled, and leaned her palms on the windowsill. On the chair, left there from the night before, lay Lena’s old school cardigan, which Irina had neatly darned at the sleeve. The girl had nearly outgrown it, but a new one was an unattainable dream.
Yesterday, as Lena was coming back from school, her winter boots tore—the sole had simply split. Irina saw how her daughter tried to hide the tear so her mother wouldn’t be upset.
That evening, Irina and her daughter were already standing in the nearest shoe store, choosing the cheapest but warm new boots.
— Mom, why? I can still wear them…
— No, sunshine. Winter has only just started. You’re not going to walk around in shoes with holes. You’ll get sick…
And again—a subtraction from a budget that barely existed in the first place.
When they came home that evening, a heavy sigh and the shuffle of slippers came from the room. It was Kolya. He woke up late because he went to bed at dawn—after endless streams with his friends. And the rest of the day he lay on the bed, in no hurry to go anywhere.
— Why did you take so long? — he mumbled as he passed by, not even looking at his wife.
— We bought Lena winter boots.
— Don’t you have anything better to do? Too much money? — her husband snapped.
— No! There’s no money at all, actually. But our daughter’s boots tore. It’s time you got your act together, Kolya! — his wife shot back sharply.
— Why are you so nervous again? — he grunted. — I told you I’ll find a job. I just can’t go work anywhere. Am I a man or what?
Irina pressed her lips together. She’d been hearing that phrase for three months. At first, Kolya said he’d get a job as a courier.
— It’s a killer job! Couriers make good money!
But after three times they didn’t confirm his deliveries and money was deducted from his account, Nikolai changed his mind.
— They’re just scammers! — he shouted. — It’s not my fault! I was set up!
As a result, he not only didn’t earn anything—he ended up in the negative. Then Kolya worked as a taxi driver. But he wasn’t given good, high-paying rides because his car was a cheap model, and beginners usually get fewer decent orders anyway. So now he stayed home, sulking at life.
Irina alone paid all the family expenses—food, clothes, school, utilities, medicine.
The next morning, when Lena had only just woken up to get ready for school, Irina was already heading to work. As always, Lena came up to kiss her mom on the cheek, but her eyes flicked quickly over Irina—over the old, worn-down puffer coat and hat that hadn’t been replaced for five years.
Irina caught that look, and her heart tightened. Her daughter is ashamed of her.
— Mom, today after school Olya and Katya are going to the movies to see a New Year’s film. Can I… go with them?
She hesitated—she didn’t want to ask.
— Call me after your classes. Maybe something will work out and I’ll find the money.
But Lena already knew the answer. The cinema was a luxury for their family. It had always been that way, but now the money issue had become especially acute. Her daughter only nodded, as if she believed it, and went to get ready.
When Irina arrived at work, she sat down at her desk and buried her head in her hands. She was almost forty. She’d been at the same job for the last ten years, saving on herself, wearing the same puffer coat for five years—one that didn’t look any better even after washing.
And every month she counted the days—until payday, until the advance, until the moment she could buy Lena something new, so the girl wouldn’t look at others with envy.
She didn’t complain; she just lived. But today… today it felt especially hard and sad. Irina suddenly pictured Lena standing outside the cinema, watching her classmates buy popcorn, while she herself said, “I don’t need any.” Irina wiped away a tear, sighed, and whispered what she repeated to herself every morning:
— Just a little longer. We’ll get through it. Everything will work out… very soon. New Year is coming… new opportunities…
But deep inside she knew it was all a lie. Nothing would change with the New Year—if anything, it would only get worse.
Work took all extra thoughts from Irina. She typed, sorted documents, answered calls—like she was on autopilot. But somewhere inside, the unpleasant aftertaste of her daughter’s dull morning glance still lingered.
When lunch break came, Irina finally allowed herself to sink into a chair, open her container of pasta, and exhale. But the moment she picked up her fork, the phone vibrated. It was her daughter.
— Mom… — Lena’s voice was quiet, polite, as if she was already afraid to hear her mother refuse. — I wanted to ask…
— Of course, sunshine, — Irina said faster than her daughter could finish. — I’ll send you the money. For the ticket and for popcorn. Spend time with your friends.
A second of silence fell on the line—so loud it felt as if Lena didn’t believe her own ears.
— Mom! Mommy! Thank you! I… I’ll tell you everything later!
Irina heard that same happy, light ring in her daughter’s voice—one she hadn’t heard in a long time.
— Have a good time, bunny.
She ended the call and immediately opened the banking app. A ridiculous amount was left in the account. But Irina didn’t hesitate for a second: she entered Lena’s number and sent the transfer. The last of her money.
She looked sadly at her pasta—without a cutlet or salad—and suddenly felt relief. As if by buying her daughter a movie ticket, she had bought her a piece of a normal childhood.
That evening, the city was buried in snow. Snowflakes fell in armfuls, like in old Soviet films, but there was no joy in it. Transport was delayed; buses crawled along the roads like turtles.
Irina had been standing at the stop for twenty minutes already, soaked and freezing. When the bus finally pulled up, people rushed the doors. She managed to squeeze inside with difficulty—pressed against the handrail so tightly she couldn’t move.
At that moment, the phone rang. It was her mother-in-law, Anna Dmitrievna—she always knew how to call at exactly the “right” moment. Irina closed her eyes for a second and sighed. Not now.
— Hello… — she tried to hold the phone so it wouldn’t be knocked out of her hands onto the floor in the crush.
— Irina, I’ll be brief, — her mother-in-law declared at once. — Before the holidays, we need to do a thorough cleaning. Come clean our apartment. Kolya said you’re free this weekend.
Irina almost dropped the phone, but immediately gripped it tighter.
Irina froze.
These were the last weekends before New Year. Irina had promised her daughter they would decorate the apartment, put up a tree, and bake homemade cookies—to create at least some kind of festive atmosphere.
— Anna Dmitrievna, I… I have my own plans. Lena and I—
— You can always do your own place later! — she interrupted. — And I’m old, it’s hard for me. You’re obliged to help us.
Irina barely held herself back from answering sharply. She knew it wasn’t about old age, but about her mother-in-law’s endless craving for cigarettes, which left her breathless even walking around the apartment.
— Let’s talk later…
— That’s it! Agreed. I’m expecting you on Saturday.
The call ended before Irina could say anything. She was barely keeping her balance, trying not to fall. Calling back was impossible—she was already standing on one foot, crushed by the crowd.
Irina came home late—tired, frozen, squeezed dry like a lemon. But the moment she opened the door, Lena rushed toward her—glowing with happiness, cheeks flushed with excitement.
— Mom! We had such a great time! And there was this super funny moment… — the girl chattered nonstop, pulling her mother into the kitchen. — I warmed up your dinner! Here, sit down! Here’s your mug! Mom, it was so awesome!
Irina looked at her daughter with tired eyes, but her heart warmed in her chest. Lena was happy—and that mattered more than anything. She stroked her shoulder, listened to the breathless stories, and smiled—even though she had no strength left.
Kolya wasn’t home, even though it was already eight in the evening. Irina wasn’t surprised. That had long since become normal.
She only said quietly to her daughter:
— The important thing is that you had a good day, sunshine.
Lena ran off to her room—to chat with her friend on the phone. Through the wall Irina could hear her bright laughter—the very sound that had become so rare lately.
Irina slowly cleared the dishes after dinner, rinsed the mugs, wiped the table. Every movement was heavy—fatigue lay on her shoulders like a stone. She went into the bedroom, changed, lay under the blanket, and instantly fell asleep.
The dream was strange—gray and bleak, like November rain. She dreamed of Kolya, his mother, some people, some voices… They shouted, demanded, pointed, waved their hands. At first everything blurred together, then it became ominous. Irina didn’t understand what was happening until she suddenly heard a crash.
A real crash.
She jerked awake—four in the morning. Someone was making noise in the kitchen, clattering dishes. Irina got up, walked barefoot down the corridor, squinting at the light, and pushed the kitchen door open.
Some unfamiliar man was lying right on the table, arms spread, as if he planned to sleep there till morning. Kolya sat nearby, flushed, drunk nearly senseless, finishing off the food Irina had been saving until payday.
— What do you want? — he slurred, seeing his wife. — We’ve got guests…
— What guests, Kolya?! It’s four in the morning! — in that moment Irina woke up completely. — What is going on here?!
Kolya tried to stand but swayed and sat back down.
— Don’t yell… New Year’s coming… relax…
— Yeah, relaxing with you… — Irina muttered, barely holding herself back.
And then something inside her snapped. As if a thin thread that had held too long finally broke. She walked up to the table, grabbed the man by the sleeve, and practically dragged him into the corridor. The building door slammed, and Kolya flinched.
— What are you doing… — he protested.
— You’ll see.
Irina turned, walked up to her husband, and pushed him out into the corridor after his buddy.
He resisted, but only slightly—his legs were already buckling from the alcohol.
— Go sleep wherever you want. On the stairs, at your friend’s, outside—I don’t care.
— You… — he started cursing.
But the door had already slammed shut.
Irina stood in the hallway, unable to believe what had just happened. A few minutes later she went back to the kitchen, cleared the table, threw away the empty bottles, and poured herself hot tea.
Sleep was gone. She sat looking out the window at the snow-white street—at how the snow had covered all the dirt and grayness of the city. At some point she noticed the sky outside beginning to lighten—it was time to get ready for work.
When Irina left the house, Kolya was no longer by the door. But for the first time, it didn’t worry her at all.
Friday at work flew by unnoticed. Irina worked diligently and with focus to finish everything on time and not stay late.
At the end of the day, management gathered the whole department and announced:
— Thank you all for your good work. New Year bonuses for everyone.
When the money hit her card, Irina couldn’t believe her eyes. The amount was twice what she expected. She covered her mouth, feeling tears of joy… and relief rising.
Her phone vibrated. It was Marinochka—a friend Irina hadn’t seen in two years. Seven years ago Marina had gone on a business trip and met a man there. No one thought she’d stay. But she did—she married him, had a son… lived far away, yet never forgot Irina.
— Irishka, I’m in town! Only for three days. Maybe we could meet?
Irina smiled and answered without hesitation:
— Come over tonight.
When Kolya finally deigned to come home that evening, he expected to see a wife apologizing, crying, begging forgiveness. He had even prepared a stern expression in advance.
But opening the door, he saw something else—Irina and Marina sitting in the kitchen, laughing and drinking wine.
Kolya turned crimson.
— What is this?! What have you done?! — he started shouting, as always. — What did I tell you about strangers in my house?!
Marina froze with her glass in hand, still not understanding what was happening. She looked questioningly at her friend. Irina only sighed, set her glass down, and said calmly:
— Kolya… I’m so tired of you. Honestly. You and your mother.
She looked straight into his eyes.
— As they say… New Year, new life, — Irina paused. — I’m leaving you, Kolya. Pack your things and get out of my apartment.
Her husband blinked, as if he didn’t understand.
— What are you talking about? — then he smirked. — I’ll pack. But you’ll regret this decision. And how will your daughter grow up without a father? Did you think about that?
Irina laughed.
— Daughter? You remembered Lena? Well… at least now…
She stood and pointed to the door.
— Don’t worry about her. She’ll survive the loss somehow. You never took care of her anyway.
Kolya stood with his mouth open, unable to respond. It hurt to hear the truth. Angry, he shoved things into a bag, yanking the zipper so hard it seemed he might rip it off.
Every jerk, every heavy sigh sounded like a challenge—but Irina no longer reacted. She just sat and watched him rummage through shelves, sweeping everything in.
— You’ll regret it… you’ll see… — he muttered. — You’ll come crawling back…
A minute later, the front door slammed. Silence hung in the apartment, and for the first time in many years, Irina felt how freely she could breathe. Marina still sat across from her—with wide, bewildered eyes.
— Ira… what just happened? — she asked quietly when Irina returned.
Irina sighed and told her everything. How Kolya had been “looking for work” for months while lying on the couch. How he spent their last money on beer instead of groceries. How he disappeared at night and came back at dawn. How lately they’d lived like neighbors, not a family. How Irina counted every remaining ruble. How Lena was ashamed of her mother’s appearance. And most importantly—how Irina had long been afraid to look at her reflection in the mirror—not because of wrinkles, but because of despair.
Marina listened silently, without interrupting once. Her eyes gradually hardened, her cheekbones tensed. Then, unexpectedly, she interrupted:
— Move in with me.
Irina didn’t understand at once.
— To… where?
— With me, — Marina repeated. — In our city. My Dima actually needs an accountant. A capable one, experienced. And you’ve got that. He needs you.
— Marin… — Irina was confused. — What are you saying… How could I… I have…
— What do you have here? — her friend interrupted gently. — Kolya? He’s gone. Parents? None. Job? You said yourself there’s zero перспектив.
— But Lena… her school, her friends…
Marina took her hand.
— Talk to her, explain everything. You’re a good mother. Lena believes you. If you decide moving is a chance, she’ll accept it. Kids often move forward easier than adults.
Irina sighed again. Really… what was holding her here?
By Saturday morning, her phone was ringing nonstop—Anna Dmitrievna.
— Irina! What did you do to Kolya?! He came to me saying you threw him out! You must let him back in immediately! He’s your husband! Immediately, do you understand me?!
Irina sat calmly in the kitchen, listening to the поток of accusations.
— And another thing! — her mother-in-law shrieked. — We’ll sue you for the apartment! It belongs to Kolya!
Irina smiled slightly. That was exactly what she’d been waiting for.
— Anna Dmitrievna, the apartment belongs to me. It was my father’s. You should really study the law.
— But… but… — her mother-in-law choked.
— So threats are pointless. Good luck to you and Kolya.
She and Lena celebrated New Year quietly—just the two of them—but for the first time in many years, happily. They even bought a small jar of red caviar—a tiny luxury Irina hadn’t allowed herself in years. Lena ran around the apartment in a new sweater, laughing, lighting sparklers.
— Mom! Mom, let’s go outside to watch the fireworks! — the girl pulled her.
They went out into the crisp snow. The sky lit up in colors from the fireworks, and Lena shone as if the whole world had finally turned toward them.
Irina looked at her daughter and thought:
This is what it was all worth enduring for. And what it’s time to change everything for.
After the January holidays, Irina quietly walked into her boss’s office and put her resignation letter on the desk.
— Are you sure? — she asked.
— I’m sure, — Irina answered and felt freedom, as if she’d taken off heavy boots after a long journey.
She and Kolya divorced quickly. He tried to make scandals, demanded money, threatened—but the law was on Irina’s side.
In spring, she sold the apartment. She and Lena boarded a train and left—for a big city full of opportunities. Marina helped them choose a cozy apartment in a new district. Helped Irina get a good job—the salary was something Irina had never even dreamed of before.
Lena started at a new school and surprised her mother—she adapted easily, quickly made friends, and within a month was laughing on the phone more often than she ever had back home.
And Irina… Irina stopped counting every penny, stopped waiting for advances like holidays, stopped trembling at every call from her mother-in-law—who was no longer part of her life.
For the first time in many years, she bought herself a new puffer coat. And a new hat. And warm winter boots.
Irina and Lena walked through the evening city holding hands, both feeling the same thing:
Life had finally become bright—and real.
