Karina carefully took the electronic scales out of the box and began setting them up.
The new gadget, with its many functions, was quite expensive, but the woman was sure it was worth it. The summer season was just around the corner, so it was time to seriously focus on her figure.
With a click of the button, she placed the scales on the tiled floor and paused, waiting. The large display flashed welcomingly, indicating that it was ready for use.
Karina smiled: now she would be able to track not only her weight but also body fat percentage, muscle mass, and other important indicators.
The sound of a key turning in the lock made her jump. Pavel had returned earlier than usual. Lately, her husband had been coming home more and more often in a bad mood. His work as the city’s chief architect was exhausting him to the limit.
“What’s this?” he asked sharply from the doorway, not even bothering to take off his shoes.
“The scales, darling. Electronic,” she replied as calmly as she could, though inside she felt a tight knot form in her chest from his tone.
“I see they’re scales. How much?”
“Twelve thousand. But they’re worth it! Look at all the functions!”
“Twelve thousand for scales?!” Pavel slammed his briefcase onto the table. “Are you out of your mind? We have perfectly good mechanical scales at home for a thousand rubles! Why do you need another one?”
“Pasha, but this is completely different! I need to track my weight, summer is coming,” she said.
“Summer, figure, dresses, sandals… Do you think about anything other than trinkets? Like, I don’t know, saving money for the dacha?” he interrupted her. “Look at what you’re doing! One minute it’s a cream for five thousand, next it’s shoes for twenty, and now these crazy scales! It’s people like you that make marketers rich!”
Karina felt a surge of resentment rise inside her. Once again, none of her wishes seemed to matter. How much longer could this go on?
“I have the right to spend money on myself! Yes, I want to look good. I’m a preschool teacher, by the way. Parents and kids look at me. How can you not understand that?”
“And I’m the city’s chief architect!” Pavel exploded. “So what? Should I buy suits for a hundred thousand now? Change cars every year? We’ll never save for the dacha with your wastefulness! Never!”
“And I don’t want to save for the dacha! That’s your dream, not mine! I want to live here and now. To be beautiful, well-groomed. And I don’t care if you like it or not!” Karina shot back.
A tense silence fell over the living room. Pavel looked at his wife as if seeing her for the first time.
“So that’s how it is?” he said slowly. “You don’t care about our property? Our future? My wishes?”
“And you don’t care about mine!” Karina replied in the same tone. “You want me to turn into a little mouse. To sit and dust off your precious dream! To give all the money for the dacha and then work in the garden! That’s what you really want! But it’s never going to happen! Remember that!”
Pavel didn’t say anything, turned around, and went to the bedroom, slamming the door with force. Karina collapsed into a chair next to the new scales and covered her face with her hands. She was shaking with anger and hurt.
«Fine,» she thought, «he’ll get used to it. I’m not going to change. It’s enough that I wash the flower pots in the garden every day. I’m still young to be hunched over in the garden! I’m tired of him and his dacha!”
Behind the closed bedroom door, her husband sat on the bed, clenching his fists. Thirty-three years old, and he was acting like a child. All these endless expenses… When would she grow up?
He pulled out his phone and quickly opened saved pictures of plots.
There it was — his dream! A small house with a white fence, an apple orchard, swings for their future children. But instead, there were piles of creams, endless beauty treatments, and now these damn scales!
Pavel gripped his phone tightly. Something had to change. It definitely had to change.
… A week passed.
Seven days turned into a real torment for Karina. Her husband was overtly ignoring any attempts to reconcile. He didn’t respond to messages, didn’t react to the breakfasts she prepared, and even went to sleep in the living room.
On Thursday, she couldn’t take it anymore and broke down in tears at work. Her young colleague Sveta sympathetically patted her on the shoulder:
“Karinochka Andreyevna, why are you so upset? You’ll make up! All men are possessive. My Dima is also always worried about every penny.”
“You don’t understand,” Karina sobbed. “Pavel has always been generous. He paid for my fur coat on installments, for the gas, for beauty salons. But now… I don’t understand what has happened to my husband!”
She fell silent, recalling the installments. Damn! Today was the fifteenth. The day of the next payment for the mink fur coat. Normally, her husband would have transferred the money, but now… Now, she would have to beg for forgiveness.
In the evening, summoning all her courage, Karina knocked on the door of her husband’s home office:
“Pasha, may I come in?”
Silence.
“Please, listen to me! It’s important. I need to make the payment for the fur coat today. You promised!” Karina opened the door uncertainly.
“Oh, the payment!” Pavel spun around in his chair. “When it comes to payments, you’re willing to talk and make compromises, right?”
“Darling, I tried to make up before the payment! You just didn’t listen to me!” Karina sat down on the edge of the sofa. “I even returned the damn scales. Let’s forget about everything!”
Her husband looked at her with a long, evaluating gaze. Then, silently, he took out his phone and calmly said:
“I’ve found a great solution. It’s the only thing we can do in this situation. Hello, Mom? Sorry for the late call. Can you come over? Yes, right now. It’s very important.”
Karina’s heart skipped a beat. In seven years of marriage, Pavel had never involved his mother in their conflicts. Something was brewing. Something very unpleasant.
“Why did you call Irina Mikhailovna?” she asked in a trembling voice.
“You’ll find out soon enough. Go make some tea. Mom will be here in half an hour.”
While Karina clattered around in the kitchen with the cups, dozens of thoughts raced through her mind. Maybe a divorce? No, that’s silly! Over some scales? Though it was clearly not about them…
The doorbell made her jump. On the doorstep stood her mother-in-law — a tall woman in a strict suit. A former chief accountant at a large factory, she was used to keeping everything under control.
“Well, tell me, what’s going on?” Irina Mikhailovna began without any preamble, walking into the living room. “I’m sure you didn’t invite me just to eat cake.”
Pavel slowly rose from his chair and confidently spoke:
“I’ll be brief, so as not to keep you. Karina and I have hit a wall financially. It’s not working! Seven years I’ve been trying to build a normal family, but every penny goes to nonsense! A fur coat on credit, a car on credit, endless beauty salons. And now these crazy scales!”
“Pavlik, calm down,” his mother sat down in the chair. “Let’s take it step by step.”
“What step? In this house, there’s only one word — chaos. It’s impossible to buy anything valuable with Karina! She spends everything on clothes and cosmetics. I see how other families live. They all have dachas, houses, apartments by the sea. And what do we have? Thank goodness grandma left us this apartment in her will. Otherwise, we’d still be renting. Can you imagine? No! I can’t do this anymore. I don’t agree. So I’ve made an important decision.”
Karina froze. Here it was. Something was about to happen.
“From now on, we’ll have separate budgets!” Pavel declared. “My mother will manage the money! And you can live as you want! Your problems! Buy whatever you want, but with your own money! The store is closed! No more installments, no more gifts. And forget about the sea this summer. First the dacha, then everything else!”
“What?!” Karina barely managed to say. “You can’t do this! We had plans! I’m going to the sea! Do you hear me? I’m going! Even if it’s without you! I won’t give up!”
“Go ahead then!” Pavel shouted. “On your own money — go to Mars for all I care!”
“Pavlik’s right,” Irina Mikhailovna interjected. “My dear, you’ve become too spoiled. It’s time to live within your means! You can’t be so selfish!”
Karina jumped up from the sofa:
“So you two have decided to gang up on me! Fine! I’ll find a way! On my own! Without you!”
She ran out of the room, slamming the door behind her. The last thing she heard was Irina Mikhailovna’s quiet voice:
“Good decision, son. It was about time. She’ll calm down…”
“Great job!” Karina thought, carefully sorting bills into envelopes.
Over the two months of separate budgets, she learned to save on little things: she gave up her favorite coffee in a trendy café, stopped ordering taxis, even froze her gym membership.
A stack of five-thousand ruble bills slowly, but surely, grew. A teacher’s salary doesn’t stretch far, but Karina managed. Just a little more, and she’d have enough for a week-long trip to Rimini.
Pavel pretended not to notice his wife’s efforts. He was fully focused on finding a plot for their dacha. In the evenings, he spent hours on the phone, discussing options with realtors. He’d get excited telling his mother about the latest viewing, and on weekends, he’d disappear out of town to look at houses.
“Can you imagine, Svetik,” Karina shared with her colleague during quiet time, “yesterday he came home all dusty and happy. He says he found the perfect plot! Ten acres, a river nearby, and the neighbors — intelligent retirees.”
“And what about you?”
“I said nothing. I just got up and went to the bathroom. Let him find a hundred plots. I won’t be there!”
“Karinochka Andreyevna, maybe don’t be so categorical?” Svetik sympathetically touched her hand. “You’ve been together for seven years. Can’t one garden break everything?”
“It’s not the garden, Svetik. He didn’t even ask for my opinion! He just decided for both of us. Am I just an app for him? A cook? Or this ‘separate budget’ of his! He humiliated me in front of his mother! How is that even possible?”
Karina fell silent, holding back tears.
These two months had been tough. They lived in the same apartment, slept in the same bed, but it felt as if they were strangers. Karina tried not to show how much it hurt her. She smiled, cooked dinners, kept the house in order. Her pride wouldn’t let her show how much her husband’s indifference affected her.
And Pavel was satisfied.
For the first time in their marriage, the man could afford significant savings. No more endless whims from his wife, so money flowed easily into a special account his mother had opened. The dacha was getting closer.
In the evenings, Pavel reviewed furniture options for the future house, picked out garden equipment, and planned the vegetable beds.
Plans for landscaping the property were already taking shape: where to put the gazebo, how to lay the paths, which flowers to plant along the fence.
Karina watched these preparations with cold fury. It wouldn’t be long now! She had almost saved enough. The tickets were set, and the hotel was booked.
“You think you’re so smart?” the woman thought to her husband. “You think you’ll punish me? Put me in my place? Well, just wait and see!”
… The wife packed her things into the suitcase, glancing at the clock from time to time.
Three hours until the flight. Bright summer dresses, swimsuits, new sandals — she had bought them especially for this trip. To spite everyone. To spite her husband with his endless complaints about expenses.
“Going somewhere far?” Pavel stood in the bedroom doorway, arms crossed.
“To the sea. You know that.”
“And how did you save up for that? Was it really on a teacher’s salary?”
“Believe it or not!” Karina snapped. “By the way, I’ve been skipping meals for three months. Didn’t drink coffee, didn’t take taxis. But you don’t care! The most important thing is your dacha!”
She slammed the suitcase shut. Her hands trembled with resentment.
“Fine, go then!” Pavel shouted. “But don’t expect me to greet you or call you. I have more important things to do.”
“Of course! Plots, vegetable beds, Mommy’s advice!” Karina felt tears rise to her throat. “You know what? I’m really going! And I’ll be happy there! Without your lectures, without your control, without…”
She stopped herself. She had wanted to say “without you,” but the words wouldn’t come.
“Karina, maybe we don’t have to do this? Let’s go together. To the dacha. I found a plot!”
“God! Not again with this!” she cried. “I don’t want your dacha! I don’t want to dig in the dirt! I’m thirty-three! I want to live! Do you understand? Live!”
Pavel stood silently watching his wife zip up the suitcase, put on her favorite dress, and apply lipstick. She looked beautiful. And foreign. When had they become so distant from each other?
“Did you call the taxi?”
“I did. Don’t worry.”
“Well, have a nice trip.”
He turned around and went to his office. Didn’t even hug her goodbye. Didn’t kiss her. Karina stood by the closed door, clutching her purse with the documents to her chest.
A car honked outside. Time to go.
“Nothing,” she thought, wiping away a traitorous tear. “A week at the sea, and everything will be fine. I’ll come back rested, tanned. Maybe we’ll make up!”
But for now, she was just leaving for the sea. Hurt, but still loving her husband, who just wanted to prove her independence.
The taxi pulled away. Karina couldn’t help but turn back. The light in the office window was on. Pavel was watching her leave.
Five days later, Pavel would have a surprise. He stared at his phone screen, unable to believe his eyes.
A message from Karina arrived an hour ago:
“I won’t be coming back. I fell in love with Italy and met someone who understands me better than you. You can dig in your garden and grow cucumbers if that’s what you want. But without me.”
His throat went dry. He dialed her number — “the subscriber is unavailable.” He dialed again and again, but all he heard was the mechanical voice: “The phone is off or out of the coverage area.”
From the kitchen came his mother’s voice:
“Well, son, have you calmed down? Let’s talk.”
“What’s there to talk about?” Pavel replied dully.
“Maybe it’s for the best?” Irina Mikhailovna sat down next to her son. “Think about it. What kind of wife is she? All she cares about are clothes and beauty salons.”
“Mom, shut up!” Pavel snapped. “You really don’t get it? It’s my fault. I ruined everything.”
He looked around the apartment. Everywhere were signs of his wife’s presence: her favorite cup with kittens, the bright blanket on the sofa, the photos on the walls.
“God, when was the last time I complimented her? Noticed her new hairstyle? Enjoyed her smile?”
He had only talked about the dacha, the savings. And she just wanted to be happy. Here and now. Young, beautiful, loved.
“I called the lawyer,” his mother’s voice rang out. “The apartment is fully yours, the property…”
“Get out!” Pavel almost shouted. “Please, just leave me alone!”
When Irina Mikhailovna left, Pavel took out his phone and called the realtor:
“Sorry, I’m canceling the plot. Yes, definitely.”
“Damn the dacha!” he thought. He would give anything now. All the savings, all the dreams of the garden. He would buy his wife ten fur coats, a hundred sets of scales. Just to have her back.
The doorbell rang when it was already dark outside. Pavel reluctantly shuffled to meet the unexpected guest. Probably his mother had forgotten something.
The man couldn’t believe his eyes! On the doorstep stood Karina. In the same summer dress, with messy hair. Tears in her eyes.
“I couldn’t,” she whispered. “I wanted to leave, I really did! I wrote that horrible message, turned off my phone. I thought I’d start a new life. And then I realized… I can’t live without you.”
She sniffled.
“I’m even okay with your dacha. We’ll grow cucumbers if you want. Just don’t push me away.”
Pavel lunged forward and hugged his wife tightly.
“You silly thing! Cucumbers? I love you! Damn the dacha, damn the savings. If you want to go to the sea, we’ll go to the sea. If you want new scales, we’ll buy them tomorrow. Just stay with me.”
Karina buried her face in his shoulder.
“Really?”
“Really. I’m sorry! I get it now. Honestly.”
They stood in the doorway, embracing each other, both crying. From happiness, from relief, from realizing that they had almost lost each other.
And on the nightstand, the phone quietly vibrated. It was the realtor. But they didn’t care anymore. What did it matter? The dacha, the sea, the scales? The important thing was that they were together again. The rest would fall into place.
Because the most important thing wasn’t where you live, but who you live with.
