Elena raised a glass of champagne, smiling at her friend Olga. The birthday party was a success—about twenty people had gathered at the café, laughter never stopped, and for the first time in months she felt like just a woman, not only the mother of one-year-old Yulia.
— To your happiness! — she said, just as her phone rang sharply.
— Elena, where are you?! — Mikhail’s voice was clearly irritated. — Our daughter’s been screaming for an hour and a half!
— Mikhail, I told you I’d be late. Olga only celebrates once a year. We agreed…
— You promised to be back in two hours! It’s already been three!
Elena stepped away from the table so she wouldn’t disturb the others.
— Try giving her a bottle of water. Maybe she’s just hot.
— I’ve tried everything! Yulia’s sick, she needs her mother!
— Misha, calm down. Check her diaper—maybe it’s rubbing. I’ll be there in an hour.
— No! Come home right now! — Mikhail was almost shouting. — Or do you not care about your own daughter?
— Fine, I’ll get there ten minutes early.
— Elena, you… — Busy tone. He hung up.
Elena returned to the table, but the mood was ruined. Her friends gathered around her with concern.
— What happened? — Olga asked gently.
— Yulia’s crying and Misha can’t calm her down. Says she’s sick.
— Good grief, he’s a man! — Tatyana cut in. — My Igor panicked at first too. Thought the baby would break if he touched her.
— And my husband still can’t figure out why our daughter cries — Marina laughed. — He calls me for every little thing.
— Girls, maybe I should go after all? — Elena wavered.
— This is your first time out in three months! — Olga said firmly. — He can wait an hour. Let him learn to be a father.
Elena tried to rejoin the conversation when Mikhail burst into the café holding a whimpering Yulia.
— There she is! — he bellowed across the room. — Mother of the year! While her daughter is dying, she’s out having fun!
All conversation stopped. People turned to stare, and Elena flushed.
— Misha, what are you doing? — she said quietly.
— Doing what I should have done an hour ago! — Mikhail rocked the sniveling child theatrically. — Bringing our dying daughter to her irresponsible mother!
— Stop making a scene, — Olga stood up. — It’s inappropriate, and the child, I might remind you, is yours too.
— Stay out of it! — he snapped. — You’re the one who tore her away from Yulia. Look — he pointed at the child’s wet eyes.
— Keep your voice down, young man, — a gray-haired man at the next table addressed him. — People are trying to eat.
— None of your business! — Mikhail barked. — My wife abandoned a sick child!
— Misha, please, — Elena stood, took her daughter. Yulia calmed almost immediately in her arms.
— Olya, I’m sorry, — she said to her friend. — I need to go.
— Of course you do! — Mikhail smirked nastily. — Finally remembered your motherly duties!
— Don’t apologize, — Olga hugged her. — This isn’t your fault.
— Go to hell! — Tatyana couldn’t hold back. — Normal men don’t behave like this!
Mikhail started to retort, but the café manager strode firmly up to their table.
— I’m sorry, but I have to ask you to leave. You’re disturbing the other guests.
At home, Elena took off her daughter’s top and found a tag sticking out on the inside of the collar that had left a red mark on the delicate skin.
— So that’s the big illness, — she showed her husband. — The tag was chafing.
— How was I supposed to know? — he shrugged, settling onto the couch.
— How? By undressing her and looking!
— Listen, I didn’t sign up to be a nanny. That’s women’s work.
Elena turned to him.
— What did you just say?
— Exactly what I said. I work, I provide for the family. Kids are your responsibility.
— Misha, you humiliated me in front of everyone over a clothing tag!
— At least now you know a mother belongs at home, not in a café with her girlfriends.
— Are you serious? — Elena couldn’t believe it. — Misha, I work remotely, I’m running three projects at once, I take care of the baby, I cook, I clean… When am I supposed to rest?
— Rest? — Mikhail snorted. — Staying home with a child is rest. Try grinding away in an office for ten hours!
— Try not sleeping at night with a screaming baby! — Elena flared.
— Oh, come on, how hard can it be? Feed her, change the diaper…
— Exactly! How hard can it be? Yet somehow you couldn’t even find a tag!
Mikhail grabbed his car keys.
— That’s it, I’m tired. I’m going to Sergey’s to get a break from all this family bliss.
— Run along, — his wife said softly. — Like you always do.
Elena looked at the closed door, her calm daughter in her arms. She quickly packed the baby’s things into a bag, dressed Yulia, and left the apartment.
Half an hour later she was standing at her mother-in-law’s door with a suitcase and a stroller.
— Elena? — Anna Petrovna was surprised. — What happened?
— I’m leaving Mikhail. Can we stay with you for a few days?
— Of course, come in. Tell me what that fool’s done this time.
— He made a scene in a café in front of everyone, — Elena sat on the sofa, rocking Yulia. — Shouted that I’m a horrible mother, that our daughter was dying… And it turned out the tag on her clothes was rubbing. He didn’t even really try to figure it out.
— Lord, what a disgrace, — her mother-in-law shook her head. — And then?
— Then he said children are exclusively women’s business. That he’s not a nanny.
— I see, — Anna Petrovna said dryly. — So Yulia isn’t his daughter, then?
— Exactly. And you know what infuriates me most? He thinks staying home with a child is a vacation.
— I was a fool, — the older woman sighed. — I spoiled the boy. Thought marriage would straighten him out. He’s only gotten worse.
The next day Mikhail showed up at his mother’s, angry.
— Mom, where’s my wife? She has to come home!
— She’s not going anywhere, — Anna Petrovna replied calmly. — But you explain why you put on a circus in the café?
— What circus? I was defending my daughter’s interests!
— From a clothing tag? — his mother asked coolly. — Elena told me everything.
— Don’t listen to her, Mom! She’s exaggerating! — Mikhail paced nervously. — Kick her out of here, she needs to go home!
— Mikhail, sit down, — Anna Petrovna said sternly. — We’re going to have a proper talk.
— About what? A wife belongs at home!
— Elena has more right to live in that apartment as the mother of my granddaughter. And you… you’ve disappointed me.
— Mom, I’m the one bringing in money!
— And Elena works too. From home, online, but she works. Plus she’s raising the child, plus she handles the whole household. And what do you do?
— I provide for the family!
— Then provide quietly. Remember how hard it was for me to raise you alone after your father died? I thought you’d understand what responsibility is.
— Oh, come on, that’s not the same. My job is hard, stressful…
— And hers is easy, right? — his mother said with sarcasm. — Mikhail, when was the last time you got up with the baby at night?
— Why would I? She’s got milk!
— When was the last time you played with your daughter? Took her for a walk? Gave her a bath?
Mikhail was silent, realizing he had no answer.
— Mom, I get tired at work…
— So does she! But she doesn’t throw tantrums in public places!
Mikhail’s eyes flashed with anger.
— Fine! I’ll find another woman and marry her! Let this one sit alone with the child!
— Try it, — his mother replied evenly. — But first, pay your child support on time. I’ll make sure of it.
— Mom, whose mother are you? Mine or hers?
— I’m the mother of a grown man who should take responsibility for his actions. Right now all I see is an infantile egoist.
A month later the divorce was finalized. Mikhail was triumphant—finally, freedom! He even brought home a new acquaintance, Svetlana, a blonde from the neighboring department.
— Misha, your apartment is so beautiful! — she admired, looking around.
— That’s nothing, — Mikhail smirked. — I’ll redo the place soon, buy new furniture. Now that I’ve gotten rid of the family ballast, I can live for myself.
— And your ex-wife? — Svetlana asked.
— What about her? She’s living at my mother’s with the kid. Let her sit there and parent.
— And alimony?
— What alimony? — Mikhail waved it off. — My mother’s well-off, they won’t starve.
They were sitting in the kitchen when the door opened with a key. In walked Anna Petrovna, followed by Elena with Yulia.
— Why did you bring her here? — Mikhail asked his mother in alarm when he saw his ex-wife with the child.
— I’m returning the rightful owners, — Anna Petrovna announced. — The apartment now belongs to my granddaughter Yulia. And you, young lady, are free to go.
— Mom, what are you doing? — Mikhail shouted.
— What I should’ve done earlier. Pack your things, you’re coming to live with me.
— Misha, what’s going on? — Svetlana asked, bewildered.
— Nothing special, — Anna Petrovna said coolly. — My son forgot to mention that the apartment was transferred to my granddaughter six months ago. I foresaw this turn of events.
— Mom, you can’t do this! — Mikhail pleaded.
— I can. And I will. Elena, make yourself at home.
Svetlana grabbed her purse and ran out without saying goodbye.
— Sveta, wait! — Mikhail shouted after her, but the door had already slammed.
Two years passed. Mikhail realized his friends were avoiding him—tired of the constant whining. His mother spoke to him coldly, and she categorically forbade him to live with a new woman in her apartment.
He dialed Elena’s number.
— Lenochka, let’s talk. Maybe we can get back together?
— There’s nothing to go back to, Misha. I’m already home.
— But we’re a family! Yulia needs her father!
— You can be a father after divorce, too. No one’s stopping you from seeing your daughter.
— Listen, maybe I can help with renovating the nursery?
— Thanks, it’s already done. Viktor helped.
— What? Who’s Viktor? — Mikhail tensed.
— A colleague. A very good man. By the way, he’s asked me to a café tomorrow.
— Are you going?
— I think so. It’s time to start living without you.
— Who even is this guy? Some random man?
— Not random. He’s been helping me for three months. Plays with Yulia, does the grocery run when I’m sick.
— Does he give you money too? — Mikhail asked acidly.
— No, Misha. He helps because he wants to. Without tantrums and reproaches.
Mikhail sat in his mother’s room staring at the ceiling. Everything had collapsed because of a stupid clothing tag. No—because of his inability to simply undress his child and see what was bothering her.
The phone rang. Elena.
— Misha, I wasn’t sure whether to tell you, but you should probably know. Viktor proposed.
— What?! — Mikhail yelled. — And what did you say?
— I’ll think about it. But, you know… he doesn’t cause scenes in public. And he loves spending time with Yulia. I haven’t decided yet, but…
— Lenochka, wait… You can’t be serious! We lived together five years!
— So what? Do those five years give you the right to scream at me in public?
— I didn’t mean to! You just drive me crazy with your “rightness” sometimes!
— You see? Even now you can’t talk normally.
— Lena, let’s try again!
— No, Misha. Viktor has shown me how a man can treat a woman. He reads Yulia bedtime stories, and he doesn’t consider it beneath him.
— I can read those stupid stories too!
— Not stupid—important to our daughter. But you don’t get that.
— I do! I was just tired of working for you two!
— Exactly. “For us.” Viktor says “for us,” not “on us.” See the difference?
— Lenochka, wait…
— It’s decided. I’m sorry, but the family we tried to build ended that day in the café. Forever.
Busy tone. Mikhail slowly set the phone down and realized he had gotten exactly what he claimed to want—complete freedom from family obligations. Only somehow it brought no joy at all.
In the next room he heard his mother’s voice on the phone:
— Of course, Lenochka, I’ll be at your wedding. It’s your choice, and my granddaughter…
Mikhail burst out of the room.
— Mom! What are you doing?
— Talking to Elena. She invited me to the wedding.
— You can’t go! I’m your son!
— And? Does that give you the right to ruin a good girl’s life?
— A good girl? She dumped me!
— She did the right thing. In her place I’d have left much earlier.
— Thanks for the support, Mother!
— Support is for when you deserve it. Right now you deserve only the truth.
— What truth?
— That you’re an egoist, Misha. You think only of yourself.
— I worked! I brought money home!
— And thought that was enough. While your wife was supposed to keep quiet and endure your outbursts.
— What outbursts? I didn’t drink, I didn’t cheat!
— But you shouted all the time. Belittled her. Were ashamed of your own daughter.
— I wasn’t ashamed! I just didn’t know what to do with her!
— You should have loved her, Misha. Just loved her.
A week later Mikhail met Elena outside the kindergarten. She was picking up Yulia, and a tall man in glasses stood beside her.
— Lena!
She turned. Her face grew wary.
— Hi, Misha.
— Is that him? — Mikhail nodded at the man.
— Viktor, this is Mikhail, Yulia’s father.
Viktor held out his hand.
— Pleasure to meet you.
— Can’t say the same, — Mikhail muttered, not taking the hand.
— Misha, don’t start, — Elena warned.
— Don’t start what? She’s my daughter!
— No one’s arguing. You can see her on weekends.
— Under his supervision, right?
— Of course not. But if you want to take her for the weekend, tell me in advance.
— Oh, so now I have to ask permission?
— Not just have to—you’re obliged. I’m her legal guardian, and you’re just her father… her biological father.
— Daddy! — Yulia shouted, running out of the kindergarten.
The girl threw herself into her father’s arms. Mikhail lifted her up.
— Hi, sweetheart. I missed you.
— I missed you too! And Uncle Vitya said we’re going to the zoo!
— Uncle Vitya? — Mikhail winced at the words.
— Uh-huh! He’s really kind. He buys ice cream and reads books!
— I see. Bought my daughter with ice cream. How dare you! You’re meddling in my life!
— Not in yours— in theirs, — Viktor explained. — And you walked out of their life yourself.
— I didn’t walk out! I was thrown out!
— Yulia, let’s go, — Elena stepped in. — It’s time to head home.
— Lena, wait! — Mikhail called. — Don’t go!
— Why should I stay? So you can stage another scene?
— I don’t make scenes!
— You do, Daddy, — Yulia said quietly. — You always shout at Mom.
Mikhail froze. His three-year-old daughter’s words were harsher than any reproach.
— Yulia, I…
— I’m scared when you shout.
— That’s enough, — Elena said. — Yulia, let’s go.
They left. Mikhail stood alone outside the kindergarten, realizing he had lost not only his wife but maybe his daughter too. And he had no one to blame but himself.
