Irina stood at the kitchen window, watching October leaves whirl in the air before dropping onto the wet asphalt. Ten-year-old Katya was fussing with her homework at the table, glancing at her mother now and then in the hope of getting help with math.
“Mom, how do I solve this one?” the girl asked, pointing her pencil at the textbook.
Irina came over and sat beside her. Katya was a bright child, but math didn’t come easily. From Irina’s first marriage she’d been left with only warm memories of Katya’s father—and Katya herself, the most precious thing in her life.
“Let’s work through it together,” Irina smiled, taking the book.
An hour later her husband, Sergey, came home from work. He was an engineer at a factory and always returned tired, but he tried to give his family his attention. He treated Katya with understanding and care, and Irina valued that deeply.
“How’s my smart girl doing?” Sergey asked, ruffling Katya’s hair.
“Studying math, Daddy Sergey,” the girl replied. She had quickly grown to love her new dad, who never shouted and always listened.
The family idyll didn’t last long. Soon Galina Ivanovna—Sergey’s mother—burst into their lives. She had been widowed a year earlier and now spent most of her time visiting her son, inspecting the young family’s household with a critical eye.
The first signs of hostility showed up immediately. Galina Ivanovna would enter the apartment without knocking, look around the rooms, and wrinkle her nose as if she were seeing something improper.
“Sergey, why does the girl have her own room?” his mother asked during one of her visits. “Isn’t that a bit too luxurious for a child?”
Irina froze by the stove where she was cooking dinner. Katya was playing in her room and couldn’t hear the conversation, but her mother could feel the atmosphere tighten.
“Mom, Katya is part of our family,” Sergey answered calmly. “She needs a place to study and play.”
“Part of the family…” Galina Ivanovna drawled. “Well, yes, of course.”
There was such coldness in her voice that Irina turned and met her mother-in-law’s hostile gaze. Galina Ivanovna looked at her as if she were an impostor.
The next visit brought fresh unpleasantness. Galina Ivanovna came on a Sunday, when the whole family was gathered at the dinner table. Irina had tried to make something special—roast chicken with vegetables and a homemade salad.
“Katya, scoot closer to your mother,” Galina Ivanovna requested as she sat down. “I need a seat closer to my Seryozhenka.”
The girl obediently moved, but Irina noticed her frown. Katya was sensitive and picked up on adults’ moods.
“You cook well,” the mother-in-law said, tasting the chicken. “Although of course it isn’t the way Sergey likes it. He’s been used to different food since childhood.”
“And how exactly?” Irina asked, trying to stay composed.
“Home-style, the real way. Not these modern experiments of yours.”
Sergey kept silent, eating intently and avoiding his wife’s eyes. Irina could see he felt uncomfortable, but he preferred not to get involved in a conversation between his mother and his wife.
After dinner, when Katya went to her room to do homework, Galina Ivanovna launched a full-on attack.
“Sergey, I want to talk to you,” she announced. “About our family’s future.”
“Mom, we already are a family,” her son replied wearily.
“What family?” she snorted. “Strange blood isn’t kin. That girl will never be a real granddaughter. And you’re spending time and money on her—resources that should go to your own children.”
Irina stood at the sink washing dishes, her hands trembling with indignation. The blood rushed to her face, but she forced herself to keep quiet to avoid a scene in front of the child.
“Mom, don’t talk like that,” Sergey said. “Katya’s a good girl.”
“Good, not good—that’s not the point,” she waved him off. “It’s about blood, about lineage. And that girl is a stranger. She has her own room, your attention, and you spend money on her needs.”
“Galina Ivanovna,” Irina couldn’t hold back any longer and turned from the sink. “Katya is my daughter, and as long as we live in this apartment, she will have her own room.”
Her mother-in-law looked at her with undisguised contempt.
“As long as you live…” Galina Ivanovna pronounced slowly. “And who said that will be for long?”
Sergey looked up from his plate at his mother in surprise.
“Mom, what do you mean?”
“I mean that sooner or later he’ll have to choose,” she said coldly. “Between the past and the future. Between other people’s children and his own blood.”
After Galina Ivanovna left, a heavy silence settled over the apartment. Katya was in her room, but Irina was sure the girl had heard the conversation. Children always sense tension between adults.
“Sergey, we need to talk,” Irina said when her husband settled down in front of the TV.
“About what?” he asked without taking his eyes off the screen.
“About what’s going on. Your mother is openly showing hostility toward Katya.”
“Mom is just getting used to the new situation,” he sighed. “She lost Dad; it’s hard for her.”
“Sergey, she’s demanding that Katya give up her room!”
“Mom didn’t demand anything like that.”
Irina sat down next to him and turned his face toward her.
“You heard the same thing I did. Galina Ivanovna thinks my daughter is a burden.”
“Don’t exaggerate. Mom is just expressing her opinion.”
“And what’s your opinion?”
Sergey was silent for a long time, and that silence told Irina more than any words. He was torn between his wife and his mother, but he didn’t want to choose.
The following weeks brought new trials. Galina Ivanovna began coming more often, as if checking how the family lived without her supervision. She criticized everything—from the meals Irina cooked to the way she raised her daughter.
“You spend too much time with the girl,” the mother-in-law declared one evening. “Sergey comes home from work exhausted, and you’re busy with a stranger’s child instead of taking care of your husband.”
“Katya is not a stranger,” Irina said through clenched fists. “She’s my daughter.”
“She’s a stranger to me,” Galina Ivanovna snapped. “And a stranger to our line. And it’s time Sergey thought about his own children instead of wasting his energy raising someone else’s girl.”
At that moment Katya was doing her homework in her room, but the thin walls couldn’t hide the loud argument. The girl was smart and understood she had become the cause of family conflicts.
“Mom, doesn’t Grandma Galya love me?” Katya asked before bed.
Irina sat on the edge of her daughter’s bed and stroked her hair. How could she explain what she herself couldn’t understand?
“Adults sometimes behave strangely, sunshine,” she said softly. “That doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you.”
“But she says I’m a stranger.”
“You are my own daughter, and no one has the right to say otherwise.”
Katya hugged her mother and pressed close. Irina felt how the tension of the past weeks was taking its toll on the child. The girl had withdrawn, played less, and spent more time alone in her room.
The climax came on a November evening. Galina Ivanovna arrived earlier than usual, when Sergey was still at work. She walked through the apartment and peeked into every room as if she were inspecting the premises.
“Where’s Katya?” she asked.
“At school,” Irina replied. “They have extra classes.”
“Good. Then we can speak frankly.”
The mother-in-law sat in an armchair opposite the couch where Irina was and studied her daughter-in-law.
“You’re a smart woman,” she began. “And you should understand that this can’t go on.”
“What are you talking about?”
“That girl is ruining my son’s future. Sergey spends time, money, and emotions on her. And what will he get in return? Another man’s child will never be grateful. She’ll grow up and go back to her real father.”
Irina listened in silence, feeling anger swell inside her. Galina Ivanovna spoke of Katya as if the girl were an object, not a living person.
“Katya doesn’t have another father,” Irina said coldly. “Sergey is her real dad.”
“A real dad must be blood,” the mother-in-law cut her off. “It’s time for Sergey to think about his own children. But as long as a stranger’s child is in the house, he won’t be able to focus on what matters.”
“And what are you proposing?”
Galina Ivanovna got up and went to the window; it was already dark outside.
“I’ve thought about this a lot,” she said slowly. “And I’ve concluded the girl would be better off in a special institution. There she’ll be taught discipline and given the proper upbringing.”
“What?” Irina sprang from the couch.
“An orphanage isn’t as terrible as it sounds. Professionals work there; there’s routine and education. And Sergey will finally be able to build a normal family.”
“You’re suggesting I put my daughter in an orphanage?”
“I’m suggesting you think about the future. Yours, Sergey’s, and the future children you could have if not for this burden.”
Irina froze, staring at her mother-in-law. The woman spoke calmly and deliberately, as if discussing the purchase of new furniture.
“Galina Ivanovna, you’re out of your mind,” Irina said quietly.
“I’m perfectly sane,” the mother-in-law replied. “And I’m saying what Sergey should have said. But my son is too soft to make hard decisions.”
At that moment a key turned in the lock and footsteps sounded in the hall. Sergey had come home from work.
“Hi, my dears,” he called, taking off his jacket.
Galina Ivanovna straightened and gave Irina a warning look.
“Think about what I’ve said,” she whispered. “And remember: I always get my way.”
Sergey came into the room and saw the two women standing facing each other in tense silence.
“What’s going on?” he asked, looking from his mother to his wife.
“We were just chatting,” Galina Ivanovna smiled. “About family matters.”
“Yes,” Irina nodded, trying to stay calm. “About family matters.”
But deep down she knew: a war had begun. And the stake in this war was her daughter’s fate.
That evening, when Katya returned from school, Galina Ivanovna was cloyingly sweet with her son, Sergey. The mother-in-law ostentatiously inquired about his work, asked about his plans, and ignored Katya.
“Sergey, I think you need more space to relax,” his mother said, looking around the apartment. “This room could make an excellent study.”
She nodded toward Katya’s room.
“Mom, that’s Katya’s room,” he reminded her.
“A child needs only a corner in your bedroom,” she waved him off. “A man needs a place to work and think.”
Irina pressed her lips together and kept washing the dishes, trying not to listen. But every word from her mother-in-law etched itself into her memory like a knife.
Late that night, after Katya went to bed and Galina Ivanovna went home, the spouses had a serious talk.
“Your mother has gone way too far,” Irina said, closing the bedroom door.
“About what?”
“Sergey, she suggested sending Katya to an orphanage.”
He spun around sharply.
“What? When?”
“Today, before you got home. Galina Ivanovna thinks my daughter is a burden and wants our home freed from her.”
Sergey was silent for a long time, mulling it over.
“Maybe you misunderstood?”
“I understood perfectly. Your mother called Katya a burden and proposed getting rid of her for the sake of our future.”
“Mom sometimes says too much when she’s angry,” he said. “You shouldn’t take all her words to heart.”
“Too much?” Irina stared at him, astonished. “Sergey, your mother is demanding we get rid of my child!”
“She’s just worried about our future…”
“Our future cannot be built on abandoning Katya.”
“I’m not saying we should abandon her,” he said quickly. “Mom only thinks the girl needs more discipline, more structure…”
“In an orphanage?”
Sergey fell silent, avoiding his wife’s eyes. The silence dragged on for several minutes.
“You agree with your mother,” Irina said slowly.
“I don’t agree… I just think we should consider different options.”
“What options?” Irina’s voice grew dangerously quiet.
“Maybe a boarding school… a residential school… places where children are well brought up…”
Irina stood there blinking, not immediately believing what she’d heard. Her husband truly was considering sending Katya away.
“You want to get rid of my daughter,” she said flatly.
“Irina, don’t dramatize. It’s not about getting rid of her; it’s about what’s best for everyone.”
“For everyone? Or for your mother?”
“For our family. Mom is right that we should think about our own children…”
“We already have a child. Katya.”
“We could have a child together. Ours by blood.”
The last words sounded like a verdict. Irina realized her husband did, in fact, see Katya as a burden—he had simply hesitated to say it.
She left the kitchen without a word and went to the bedroom. Sergey remained at the table, realizing he had said something irreparable.
Irina opened the wardrobe and pulled out a large suitcase. Then she began neatly folding her husband’s things into it: shirts, trousers, underwear.
“What are you doing?” Sergey asked, appearing in the doorway.
“Helping you pack.”
“Pack for where?”
“To your mother’s. Since the two of you consider my daughter surplus to this home, go live with your own family.”
Sergey stepped closer and tried to take her hand.
“Irina, we can discuss this calmly…”
“There’s nothing to discuss,” she pulled away. “You’ve made your choice.”
“I haven’t chosen anything! I just voiced an opinion…”
“An opinion that my daughter should live separately from us.”
He tried to protest, but his voice lacked conviction.
“I didn’t say she must… I only suggested we consider…”
“Consider sending a ten-year-old to boarding school,” Irina finished for him. “So that your mother will be pleased.”
Sergey watched in silence as his wife methodically packed his things. Suits, sportswear, shoes went into the suitcase.
“Irina, stop. Let’s talk like adults.”
“Like adults?” She straightened and looked at him. “Like adults would have defended my daughter from your mother’s attacks. Like adults would have told Galina Ivanovna that Katya is part of our family.”
“Mom just wants what’s best for us…”
“Your mother wants to get rid of Katya. And you support her.”
The suitcase was almost full. Irina snapped it shut and set it by the door.
“My daughter stays. You two are leaving,” she said firmly.
“Irina, this is our home…”
“No. This is my home.”
She went to the dresser and took out a folder of documents. Sergey watched in surprise as she pulled out several sheets.
“Certificate of ownership,” Irina said, showing the document. “The apartment is in my name. I bought it before our marriage with the money from selling my previous place.”
Sergey took the document and looked it over carefully. Indeed, Irina was listed as the sole owner.
“I thought the apartment was ours…”
“You thought wrong. And it’s good we didn’t register joint ownership.”
He grasped the seriousness of the situation. Legally he had no rights to the dwelling.
“Irina, don’t throw me out. I’ll talk to Mom, explain to her…”
“Explain what? That Katya has the right to live in her own home?”
“Yes, exactly that.”
“It’s too late, Sergey. You’ve already shown where your priorities lie.”
At that moment the doorbell rang. Irina looked through the peephole and saw the familiar silhouette of Galina Ivanovna.
“Your mother’s here,” she told her husband.
Sergey opened the door. Galina Ivanovna entered with the air of a mistress of the house, but quickly noticed the suitcase in the hall.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Packing,” Irina answered curtly.
“Who’s packing?” the mother-in-law didn’t understand.
“You and your son. You’re vacating my apartment.”
She looked at Sergey in confusion.
“Sergey, explain what’s happening.”
“Mom, we have a conflict with Irina…”
“There is no conflict,” Irina interrupted. “There’s a simple solution: Katya stays in her own home, and you find another place to live.”
Galina Ivanovna frowned and drew herself up to her full height.
“Young woman, you forget whom you’re talking to.”
“To someone who wants to send my daughter to an orphanage.”
“I proposed a reasonable solution to family problems!”
“You proposed disposing of a child for the sake of your own comfort.”
The mother-in-law shouted that her son had nowhere to go, that this was unfair, that Irina was destroying the family.
“Galina Ivanovna, you destroyed the family,” Irina replied calmly. “When you called my daughter a burden.”
“That’s what she is! A stranger’s child in the house is always trouble!”
“Then go solve your troubles somewhere else.”
Irina took the apartment keys from the shelf in the entryway.
“I’ll be keeping these. I’ll need them.”
“Irina, we can still sort this out,” Sergey tried to plead.
“There’s nothing to sort out. You chose your mother over my daughter.”
Reluctantly, Sergey handed over his keys. Galina Ivanovna still couldn’t believe what was happening.
“You have no right to throw us out!”
“I do. This is my apartment, and I decide who lives here.”
The suitcase ended up outside the door. Mother and son stood on the landing, not knowing what to do.
“This is lawlessness!” the mother-in-law yelled. “I’ll go to court!”
“Feel free,” Irina replied coolly. “But first look up what rights guests have in someone else’s apartment.”
“Sergey is my son! And that girl is a stranger!”
“Katya lives in her own home. You do not.”
Her husband and mother-in-law left with shouts and reproaches, but Irina was ready for the conflict to continue. She took out her phone and dialed the police.
“I want to report threats from my husband’s relatives.”
The patrol arrived half an hour later. Irina described in detail her mother-in-law’s demands, the pressure on her child, and the attempts to force her to give up her daughter to an orphanage.
“We’ll file a report,” the lieutenant said. “In case the situation repeats.”
Katya had been sitting in her room, listening to the voices in the hallway. She was afraid to come out, not knowing what was happening.
“Mom, where’s Daddy Sergey?” Katya asked after the police left.
“Daddy Sergey doesn’t live with us anymore,” Irina said, hugging her daughter.
“Because of me?”
“Not because of you, sunshine. Because the adults couldn’t come to an agreement.”
“Will he come back?”
“I don’t know. But you will stay with me, no matter what.”
The next day Irina filed for divorce. She decided there would be no more humiliation—neither for her nor for her daughter.
In the petition she stated the reason: irreconcilable differences regarding the upbringing of children and family values. She asked to dissolve the marriage without division of property since there was no jointly acquired property.
Sergey tried calling several times, but Irina didn’t answer. He wanted to arrange a meeting and explain his position, but she was unyielding.
A week later a court summons arrived. Sergey had filed an objection to the divorce, citing temporary disagreements and the possibility of reconciliation.
At the hearing Irina set out her position clearly: her husband and his mother had demanded that she send her daughter to an orphanage or boarding school, considering the girl a burden to the family. Such a stance was incompatible with continuing the marriage.
The judge clarified the circumstances and ruled to grant the divorce. The marriage was deemed dissolved a month after the filing.
Galina Ivanovna tried to catch Irina near the house, but Irina walked past without reacting to reproaches and threats. The mother-in-law shouted that Irina had ruined her son’s life, but no one listened.
Gradually Katya recovered from the stress. She began to smile again, to play, to invite classmates over. The room remained her room; the home remained her home.
“Mom, are we not going to let anyone else in anymore?” Katya asked one evening.
“We will, sweetheart,” Irina smiled. “But only those who respect us.”
“And who respect me too?”
“You too. Absolutely.”
Irina hugged her daughter and knew she had made the right choice. Better to be alone with your child than to endure humiliation for the sake of keeping a marriage. Katya was her daughter, her family, her future. And no one had the right to demand that a mother give up her own child.
That evening, after Katya went to sleep, Irina sat in the kitchen with a cup of tea and thought about what they’d been through. The decision had been hard, but there was no doubt. A daughter is more important than a husband who couldn’t protect a child from his own mother’s attacks.
Through the window she could see yellow leaves the wind was tearing from the trees. Autumn was ending; winter was approaching. But the home was warm and calm. Katya slept in her room, in her bed, under her blanket. And no one would dare call the girl a stranger or unnecessary again.
Irina finished her tea, turned off the light, and went to bed. Tomorrow a new day would begin, a new life. A life with no compromises where a mother’s love is concerned.
