— Tomorrow I’m going to my mom’s dacha. For a week, maybe longer. And who’ll wash and iron your shirts—that’s not my problem.
— What do you mean you’re leaving? I thought you’d be at home. You’d finally do a proper cleaning.
— No, I’ve decided I’d rather rest at my mother’s.
Sasha was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee, pretending to read the news on his phone. In reality, he was tracking his wife’s every move, feeling the tension in her every step.
Katya had been silent for three days, and that was scarier than any fight. It all started with their latest “discussion” about vacation. Or rather, with Sasha refusing to go to the sea.
This year, for the first time in a long while, they had both the time and the savings. Katya had long dreamed of a trip to the sea. The last time she and her husband were in Sochi together was ten years ago. In that time their daughter, Vasilisa, had been born—and she had never once seen the sea with its crashing waves crowned with white foam.
Ekaterina dreamed of sun and warm sand. She didn’t mind the smell of sunscreen, the squeak of lounge chairs, or even the endless shouting and bustle on the beach.
But Alexander dug in again:
— I’ve told you I can’t stand that kind of vacation! Those crowds, the heat, sand in my shoes… And anyway, I’m for staying in the city. It’s calm here, cool under the air conditioner, and there’s no fuss.
— You only think about yourself. And Vasilisa has never in her life seen the real sea! — Katya said, hoping that this fact would touch her husband’s soul at least a little.
— Why does she need the sea? We bought her a wonderful pool last year! — he waved her off, continuing to scroll the news.
Katya nervously straightened her daughter’s T-shirt, zipped her backpack, and set aside a bag of toys. On the kitchen table lay a list: swimsuit, flip-flops, sun hat, book of fairy tales, ball… Everything had to be in order, and yet her heart felt anything but calm.
Sasha was still at the table, lazily swiping through the news feed. In the last half hour he hadn’t once asked if help was needed. Not about the road, not about the things, not about Vasilisa. And that made Katya want to scream and cry at the same time.
— Mom, did we pack the goggles? — the girl tugged at her mother’s hand.
— Yes, I put them in, sweetie. Everything’s in your backpack, — Katya forced a smile, but inside she was very uneasy.
— Listen, maybe I should drive you after all? — Sasha said without taking his eyes off the phone.
Katya looked at him in surprise, a mix of fatigue, anger, and a drop of hurt.
— No need. We’ll manage ourselves, — she threw back shortly.
With that she grabbed the car keys and she and her daughter went outside.
Valentina Igorevna stood by the gate in a colorful apron, a bunch of dill in her hands. She spotted the car from afar and hurried to meet them.
— My beauties are here! — she exclaimed joyfully, helping to pull a bag of groceries from the trunk.
Vasilisa immediately rushed into the house, knowing that Grandma had, as always, made her favorite pancakes. Katya carried all the things inside and then slowly sank onto the bench by the porch.
Valentina Igorevna set a plate of pancakes with strawberry jam in front of her granddaughter and stepped out onto the porch herself.
— Did something happen? — she asked her daughter gently.
Katya was silent for a long time. Then she tucked her hair behind her ears, sighed, and told everything. About her husband’s refusal to go to the sea, about his indifference, about that cursed pool which, in Sasha’s opinion, could replace everything in the world. About how she kept stepping back, again and again, to maintain the appearance of a happy family life.
Valentina Igorevna listened attentively without interrupting. Then she squeezed Katya’s hand tightly and said quietly:
— My girl, you have the right to happiness, to rest, and to support. If you want, stay overnight. Spend the weekend here with Vasilisa.
— To be honest, I didn’t bring any clothes with me.
— That’s not a problem. We’ll find something old. You haven’t gained a gram in ten years, so everything will fit.
And so they decided. Katya happily busied herself in the garden—watered the beds, loosened the soil around her mother’s favorite flowers, and ate raspberries to her heart’s content. In the evening she and her daughter splashed in the pool, then drank berry compote and listened to the crickets chirring.
Sasha only remembered in the evening that his wife should have returned. He remembered, in fact, only when he needed the car and the keys weren’t in their usual place.
— When are you coming home? — came her husband’s disgruntled voice through the phone.
— I’m not coming today. Tomorrow, — Katya answered curtly.
— What do you mean tomorrow? I need the car. I want to go see Valera.
— Call a taxi. Figure something out. It’s late now; I’m not going anywhere, — Katya knew he’d start yelling and complaining, so she simply hung up.
She switched her phone to silent and placed it face-down on the windowsill. She had already spoiled the day enough. Sasha was now fuming in the apartment amid the dirty mugs and his “important” affairs.
When Vasilisa, worn out from water play, finally fell asleep in the bedroom with the window open, Katya and Valentina Igorevna settled on the veranda. The air was soft and warm, with light scents of flowers and freshly cut grass. It was wonderfully quiet. Only the occasional chirp of crickets disturbed the summer idyll.
— You know, Mom, — Katya began, clutching a mug of warm milk, — I don’t expect much from Sasha. Just basic attention and care. For him to say: “You’re tired—I’ll help. You want the sea—then we’ll go.”
— Sasha has always been stingy with those simple “manly” gestures, — Valentina Igorevna added quietly.
— I don’t even dream of him bringing me flowers anymore. Just… for him at least to notice me and my everyday work for the family. We’re not strangers…
— Of course you’re not strangers. Only when someone’s been nearby too long, they start being taken for granted, — her mother sighed. — It happens… You need to remind your husband that you’re alive, that this attitude hurts you.
Katya smiled bitterly. That was exactly how she felt—like some kind of hired help onto whom all the routine could be dumped: caring for the child, cleaning, cooking, shopping, all of it.
Valentina Igorevna kept speaking calmly, without judging or trying to win her daughter over to her side, as so often happens in parent-child conversations. She simply listened and occasionally offered neutral phrases.
— You can’t imagine how important that is, Mom, — Katya suddenly looked her in the eye. — That you’re always there when I need you… and you’ve never told me things like: “What did you expect? All men are like that,” “Endure it—everyone else manages somehow,” “Divorce is a lifelong disgrace.” You just listen to me, and that… it’s really priceless.
— Because you’re my girl, my daughter, even if you’re grown, — said Valentina Igorevna softly. — Your life is your life. You need to make your own mistakes and gain your own experience. No one can do the right thing for you better than you can.
Katya nodded. Suddenly she felt lighter.
— You know, Mom, — she said after a minute of silence, — maybe I really should go to the sea with Vasilisa. Just the two of us, without Sasha. It’ll do us both good. And I have the money. I’ve been saving all year.
Valentina Igorevna smiled:
— That’s the spirit. And I’ll help you buy the tickets. Consider it a grandmother’s gift to her granddaughter. And to her mom, too.
Katya returned home the next day closer to noon. She stepped into the apartment, took off her shoes, and saw Sasha sprawled on the couch. Next to him was a pizza box he had apparently finished the night before.
— Well, finally! — he said peevishly without getting up. — You took the car for a whole day, and I had to sit at home like an idiot. I had plans with Valera—we were going out of town to fish. And what? Plans ruined!
Without looking at him, Katya set her bag by the door and went to the kitchen.
— Why didn’t you call a taxi? — she asked calmly, filling the kettle.
— Because I have a car, in case you forgot! — Sasha snapped. — I’m not going to ride around with some strangers…
— So it’s fine for me to lug bags and a child by bus, but not for you? — Katya shot back.
Sasha wanted to say something, but Katya was already in the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
All the next week she tried not to raise the subject of the trip. But the thoughts wouldn’t leave her head: should she go alone with her daughter? Should she tell Sasha? Or just go quietly—buy the tickets and inform him after the fact?
She even printed out a couple of package tours but couldn’t bring herself to pay for them. She wavered. In the evenings she mentally rehearsed conversations with her husband: explaining, justifying—and then, in those same thoughts, arguing and slamming imaginary doors.
Then something happened that put everything in its place.
On Monday, Oksana—her colleague from the department—returned to work. At first glance it was obvious: she’d just been on vacation. A light tan, shining eyes, a new haircut. She radiated ease and freshness. Oksana laughed, told how she and her husband taught their son to swim, how a seagull flew onto their balcony, and how well she slept in the sea air.
Katya watched her, and inside she shrank with envy. That very day, sitting on break with a cup of vending-machine coffee, she made up her mind—she was going. In two weeks her vacation was starting. That was just enough time to plan everything.
Katya opened her phone, found the link to a tour to Gelendzhik, chose a cozy hotel with a pool and breakfasts. Then, without hesitation, she entered her card details and tapped “pay.”
Two weeks flew by unnoticed. Katya lived in a strange rhythm—on the outside everything looked the same, but in her mind she was already sitting on the seashore.
Sasha, as before, spent evenings by the TV or buried in his phone. He didn’t notice his wife packing suitcases and buying new things for the trip.
Vasilisa had been at the dacha with Valentina Igorevna all that time. The girl was happy—running barefoot on the grass, helping Grandma with berries, reading books, and eagerly waiting for Mom to come visit. She had no idea a trip to the real sea was ahead of her.
On Saturday Katya woke up early. She calmly washed up and got dressed. The kitchen was still a mess—late the night before Sasha had boiled dumplings and wasn’t in a hurry to clean up. Katya glanced at the piled-up sink and took the car keys.
— I’m going to get Vasilisa. I need to bathe her and do laundry. She’s going back to the dacha on Monday, — she said to her husband as she walked by.
— Just make sure the car’s back by evening, — Sasha grunted.
Katya said nothing. There was nothing more to say. When she arrived at the dacha, Vasilisa ran out to meet her in a swimsuit with water droplets in her hair.
— Mommy! Guess what—I learned to dive! — the girl shouted joyfully.
— That’s my clever girl! — Katya hugged her tightly with a smile. — I missed you so much!
And then, casually, Katya mentioned:
— On Monday morning we’re going to the sea. The two of us: just me and you.
Valentina Igorevna simply nodded and said:
— The right decision. Let your daughter see a real summer—and you’ll get a rest.
Katya exhaled in relief. Everything was already decided. All that was left was to wait for Monday. And whatever Sasha might think of it—was no longer her concern. He himself had said the sea was of no use to him. Perfect.
On Sunday evening Katya finished chopping vegetables for dinner, boiled pasta, and took a pan of fried chicken thighs off the heat. Everything looked as usual—as if she wasn’t going anywhere.
Sasha appeared in the kitchen, stretched, yawned, and dropped his phone on the table.
— What’s for dinner?
Katya set a plate in front of him, sat down across from him, and said calmly:
— Tomorrow I’m going to my mom’s dacha. For a week, maybe longer. And who’ll wash and iron your shirts—that’s your problem.
Sasha froze for a second, fork in hand.
— What do you mean you’re leaving? — he frowned. — Your vacation’s starting; I thought you’d be at home. You’d finally do some proper cleaning.
— No, I’ve decided I’d rather rest at my mother’s, — Katya replied in the same calm tone. — You don’t want to go out of town anyway, and it’s nice at the dacha. Quiet and fresh air. Vasilisa and I will have a lovely time.
Sasha smirked crookedly, pushing the plate away:
— Right, sure… And what am I supposed to do here alone?
— You yourself said you’re fine on your own, — Katya reminded him. — So enjoy it—silence, order, the TV, and your beloved dumplings.
He opened his mouth to object, then waved it off:
— Fine. Maybe it’ll actually do me good to be alone for a bit. I’ll finally sit in peace; no one will nag me.
That night she checked their documents, tickets, and the reservation one more time. The suitcase already stood by the door. Vasilisa, suspecting nothing, slept in her room, and Katya smiled for the first time in a long while. Tomorrow real summer would begin. Sun, sea, and two happy girls: mother and daughter.
The next day, when Katya and Vasilisa stepped out of the house, the girl looked cheerfully at the suitcase and asked curiously:
— Mom, why do we need a suitcase? Aren’t we going to the dacha?
Katya smiled, taking her daughter’s hand:
— We’re going to the sea, Vasilisa. Just you and me—to real beaches, warm water, and sunshine!
— To the sea?! — Vasilisa jumped so high her cap almost flew off. — Hooray!
Mom hugged her:
— Yes, my love! We’re leaving today.
They called a taxi and soon burst into the airport, full of hustle and anticipation. Vasilisa looked with interest at the departures board, the planes, the people—everything was new and exciting. After a not-too-long flight they landed in Gelendzhik, where a soft sea breeze and warm evening sun were already waiting for them.
That very night they waded into the gentle waves—the sea was warm and tender, and Vasilisa squealed with delight. Beachgoers turned at her loud laughter—there was enough beach happiness there for an entire summer.
The sun, the azure sky, and the stunning view from the hotel window filled the mother’s and daughter’s hearts with joy and serenity. Every evening before bed, Katya listened to her daughter’s impressions—there were so many.
Ten days later they came home entirely different—tanned, smiling, brimming with impressions and love. As soon as Vasilisa crossed the threshold, she shouted to her father:
— We were at the sea! We swam and collected shells! Do you know how many I brought back?
Sasha, who had just come home from work, froze in the bedroom doorway.
— What have you done?! — he turned to his wife, his voice shaking with indignation. — Why didn’t you ask me? How did you even dare to pull this off behind my back? And your mother is no better—she told me you were with her when I called.
But Katya no longer wanted to listen to her husband:
— I knew you wouldn’t allow it. I realized at the sea that I no longer want to live the way we did. It wasn’t a vacation—it was a time to separate the wheat from the chaff. You can take the car, your things, and leave. Today.
Silence fell over the room. Vasilisa stood nearby, pressed against her mother. Sasha, who hadn’t expected such bluntness from his wife, didn’t even know what to say. Katya, noticing this, slid a bag toward him.
— Here. Take it.
She and Vasilisa started unpacking, while Sasha couldn’t grasp what had happened. It was as if they didn’t see him: his wife went about her business, his daughter ran to her room to play, and he alone stood in the middle of the hallway not knowing what to do.
— Aren’t you going to pack? Leaving light? — Katya asked, tossing clothes into the washing machine.
— Wait. You can’t act so abruptly. We need to talk it through.
— There’s nothing to talk about. Tomorrow I’m filing for divorce.
— You’re not giving me any chance?
— You’ve had a hundred chances. You didn’t even once offer to pick up our daughter from the dacha or take her there. I didn’t even have to hide— you still paid no attention to us. And now that’s enough. Leave on good terms.
— And where am I supposed to live? — Alexander protested.
— That’s not my problem anymore. You’ve lived alone, right? Got used to it? Then keep it up. And vacate my apartment. And by the way, I’m claiming half the car as well. So you’ll have to give me half the money from its sale. Now go…
Sasha stood silent, but with every second his pride retreated before reality. Katya no longer pleaded, no longer tried to persuade him, and no longer complained.
— Katya, are you serious? — he said quietly. — This is… our family. We’ve been together so many years.
— Exactly. So many years, and you never learned to be there and care for your family, — Katya wiped her hands on a towel and turned around. — This is a decision I should have made long ago. And I’ve made it.
He wanted to say something—justify himself, accuse her—but the words wouldn’t come. Katya was no longer the woman who forgave and endured. She had become someone else—a woman who finally chose herself.
— I’ll pack my things, — Alexander said hoarsely.
— Do it now, — Katya nodded and returned to her daughter, who was happily showing Grandma over video call her seaside treasures.
Sasha left, and the apartment suddenly felt lighter. In time, the divorce was finalized. Katya bought herself an inexpensive car with the money and she and her daughter began traveling not only around the region, but to nearby cities as well.
It seemed Katya didn’t need anything else… Or so she thought, until two years after the divorce she met Anton.
