Vera was washing the dishes after dinner when her husband hugged her from behind. Usually such a gesture was pleasant, but today for some reason it made her uneasy. After seventeen years of marriage, she had learned to sense when Igor was up to something.
“Verochka, remember when I talked about the vacation?” His voice was suspiciously gentle.
“I remember. We wanted to go to Sochi for the May holidays,” she continued scrubbing the pan without turning around.
“Well, here’s the thing…” Igor let her go and sat down at the table. “The guys at work organized a trip to Turkey. All-inclusive, great hotel, just for two weeks.”
Vera turned around, drying her hands with a towel.
“Great! I’ve long dreamed of seeing Turkey. When are we going?”
Igor hesitated, rubbing his neck — a sure sign he was about to say something unpleasant.
“You see, it’s… it’s a guys’ trip. Only department employees, no wives.”
“Oh, so that’s it,” Vera thought, feeling familiar disappointment. “Again.”
“So, you’re going on vacation and I stay home?” she tried to speak calmly.
“Ver, don’t be upset,” Igor got up and approached her. “It’s a work trip, team building. The management pays, it’s awkward to refuse.”
“Team building at a five-star hotel with all-inclusive?” Vera raised an eyebrow skeptically.
“Yes, combining business with pleasure,” he smiled awkwardly. “But in summer we’ll fly together wherever you want, I promise.”
Vera had heard these promises before. Last summer he promised too, but in the end, they didn’t go anywhere — either work, or money was needed to fix the car, or some other excuse.
“Alright,” she sighed. “When do you leave?”
“In two weeks, on May 3rd,” Igor relaxed, thinking the storm had passed. “Thanks for understanding, kitten.”
He kissed her on the cheek and went to the living room to watch football. Vera stayed in the kitchen, feeling a bitter resentment. “Understanding kitten. Always understanding. But when will someone understand me?”
The following days passed in usual bustle. Igor enthusiastically prepared for the trip — bought new swimming trunks, sunscreen, even made a hairdresser appointment. Vera watched his preparations with growing irritation.
On Friday evening, a week before Igor’s departure, there was a knock at the door. Vera opened and inwardly groaned. Her father-in-law, Nikolai Petrovich, stood on the doorstep, swaying and emitting a strong smell of alcohol.
“Verka, daughter, let the old man in,” he mumbled, grabbing the door frame.
“Nikolai Petrovich, you again…” she began, but he had already pushed past her into the apartment.
“Where’s my son? Igor!” the father-in-law shouted, heading to the living room.
Igor jumped out of the room, saw his father, and darkened.
“Dad, you drank again? We agreed!”
“We agreed?” Nikolai Petrovich mocked him, flopping on the couch. “With whom did you agree? Nobody agreed with me! I’m an adult, I do what I want!”
Vera leaned wearily against the wall. This was the fourth visit of the drunken father-in-law in a month. After the mother-in-law’s death three years ago, Nikolai Petrovich had completely fallen apart — drinking nonstop, leaving the apartment a pigsty, quarrelling with all neighbors.
“Ver, make strong tea for Dad,” Igor asked, trying to seat his father more comfortably.
“Sure, make it, brew it, bring it, clean up,” Vera mentally mocked him but went to the kitchen.
When she returned with the tea, the father-in-law was already dozing on the couch, and Igor sat nearby with a gloomy expression.
“We have to do something,” he said. “It can’t go on like this.”
“Maybe a rehabilitation center?” Vera suggested.
“He won’t agree. I already offered,” Igor rubbed his face with his hands. “Listen, what if… Ver, I have an idea.”
Vera was wary. Igor’s ideas rarely promised anything good.
“While I’m in Turkey, maybe Dad could live with us? Under your supervision, he definitely won’t drink. And I’ll come back, and we’ll decide what to do next together.”
Vera froze, cup in hand, not believing her ears.
“You want me to babysit your alcoholic father for two weeks while you sunbathe in Turkey?”
“Well, not babysit, just watch over him,” Igor tried to take her hand, but she pulled away. “Ver, who else will help? My sister’s in America, no other relatives.”
“What about his friends? Neighbors?” Vera felt her anger rising.
“Everyone turned away from him,” sighed Igor. “He annoyed everyone with his drinking. Only we’re left.”
The next morning, Vera woke up with a heavy head. The father-in-law was still sleeping on the couch, snoring and spreading a sour smell around. Igor had already gone to work, leaving a note: “Thanks for taking in Dad. We’ll talk in the evening. Love you.”
“Taking in? I took him in?” Vera crumpled the note. “As if I had a choice!”
She brewed strong coffee and sat at the kitchen table, pondering the situation. To tolerate the drunken father-in-law’s antics for two weeks while her husband had fun with friends? That was too much.
The phone rang — her friend Larisa.
“Hi, girlfriend! How are you? Getting ready for the May holidays?”
“If only,” Vera told her about her husband’s plans.
“Wait, wait,” Larisa gasped indignantly. “He’s going to Turkey without you, and you have to sit with his drunken dad? Ver, are you sane?”
“What can I do?” Vera asked wearily.
“How about saying no? Say — no, dear, either we go together, or you stay with your father yourself!”
“You know Igor. He’s already decided everything.”
“Exactly, he decided! And what about you? Are you furniture? Your opinion doesn’t count?”
After the conversation, Vera felt even worse. Larisa was right — why should she sacrifice her time and nerves?
The father-in-law woke up near noon, moaning and pitiful.
“Verochka, some water,” he groaned.
She brought water and a headache pill. Nikolai Petrovich drank it in one gulp and stared at her with cloudy eyes.
“Thanks, daughter. You’re good, unlike my idiot.”
“Don’t speak like that about Igor,” Vera automatically objected.
“And why not? Isn’t it true?” the father-in-law sat, grimacing. “Going to Turkey, he drunkenly blurted out to me yesterday. Leaving his old father and going to rest.”
“He’s going for work,” Vera didn’t know why she defended her husband.
“For work!” Nikolai Petrovich snorted. “I told the same to Ninka, God rest her soul. For work, on a business trip. But he went to Sochi with his secretary.”
Vera grew cold.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying it,” the father-in-law got up, staggering. “Like father like son, as they say. Where can I smoke here?”
Vera pointed to the balcony but stayed sitting, digesting what she heard. No, Igor isn’t like that. It can’t be. Although… these ‘guys’ trips,’ late returns from corporate parties, new perfume…
In the evening, Igor returned with a huge bouquet of roses and a box of chocolates.
“For you, for being so understanding,” he kissed her on the cheek.
“Igor, we need to talk,” Vera put down the flowers. “About your father.”
“Oh, by the way!” he brightened up. “I already agreed with Dad’s neighbor, she’ll give his things. I’ll bring them tomorrow.”
“Igor, stop!” Vera raised her voice. “I don’t agree to babysit your father while you’re on vacation!”
The husband froze with a surprised look.
“How don’t you agree? Ver, we discussed it yesterday.”
“You discussed with yourself and put me before the fact!” Vera felt anger rising like a wave. “I didn’t sign up to be a nanny!”
“What nanny? He’s my father!” Igor also got worked up. “Family! Or is that meaningless to you?”
“To me?” Vera jumped up. “I’m the one who didn’t appreciate family? Me, who has carried the whole house for seventeen years? Cooking, washing, cleaning for all of you?”
“No one forced you!” Igor snapped. “You don’t have to cook, we’ll eat delivery!”
“It’s not about cooking!” Vera tried not to yell. “It’s about you deciding everything for me! Going on vacation — you decided. Dad will live with us — you decided. And what about my opinion?”
“I always consider your opinion,” Igor sat at the table, demonstratively calm. “But sometimes you have to make decisions that not everyone likes. Dad needs help.”
“Then stay and help!” Vera burst out. “Cancel the trip!”
Igor looked at her as if she was crazy.
“Are you joking? I can’t refuse, it’s a work trip! The management paid, tickets bought.”
“Can I refuse the role of nanny?” Vera crossed her arms.
“Ver, don’t start,” Igor rubbed his temples. “Dad will live here for only two weeks. What’s the big deal? You’ll feed him, watch that he doesn’t drink. He’ll even help around the house if you ask.”
Vera laughed — bitterly, angrily.
“Help? Your father, who turned the apartment into a dump? Who can’t even wash his own dishes?”
“He’s a sick man, Vera! He has depression after Mom’s death!”
“Depression is no excuse to drink yourself into the ground and be a burden on family!” Vera could no longer hold back. “And you know what? I won’t sit with your alcoholic father while you relax in Turkey!”
After the argument, Igor demonstratively went to sleep in the living room with his father. Vera lay in the bedroom staring at the ceiling. The father-in-law’s words about affairs, about like father like son, spun in her head. “No, it’s the nonsense of a drunk man,” she tried to convince herself.
Breakfast was tense and silent. The hungover, pitiful father-in-law poked at the scrambled eggs with a fork. Igor demonstratively did not look at his wife.
“You guys don’t look happy,” Nikolai Petrovich croaked. “Had a fight?”
“Everything’s fine, Dad,” Igor grumbled.
“Uh-huh, I can see how fine,” the father-in-law squinted cunningly. “Because of me, huh? Vera doesn’t want to take care of me?”
“Nikolai Petrovich…” Vera began, but he interrupted.
“And rightly so! I wouldn’t want to babysit such a drunk either. I’m going home.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Igor cut in. “Vera is just tired, but she agreed.”
“I don’t agree,” Vera said firmly.
Igor threw her a fierce look.
“Ver, can I talk to you for a minute?” He got up from the table.
They went to the corridor. Igor closed the kitchen door and turned to his wife.
“What are you doing? These scenes in front of Dad?”
“I’m telling the truth. I don’t want to take care of a drinking person for two weeks.”
“He’s my father!” Igor hissed. “And he’s sick! Where’s your compassion?”
“And where’s your compassion for me?” Vera countered. “I’m a person too, I have plans, desires. But you don’t think about that.”
“What plans? Sitting at home watching TV shows?”
Those words hit harder than a slap. Vera quit her job five years ago at Igor’s insistence — he wanted the house always tidy and dinner hot. Now he reproached her for it.
“You know what?” Vera’s voice turned icy. “Do what you want. Bring your father. But I’m leaving.”
“Where are you going?” Igor smirked.
“To my mom’s village. She’s been asking for help in the garden.”
“Ver, don’t say stupid things. You’re not going anywhere.”
“We’ll see,” she turned and went to the bedroom.
The next days passed in a cold war. Igor pretended nothing happened, continued packing for the trip. The father-in-law, sensing the tension, tried not to run into his daughter-in-law.
Three days before Igor’s departure, Vera packed a bag.
“What are you doing?” her husband stood in the bedroom doorway.
“I’m going to Mom. I told you.”
“Ver, stop this act. You’re not going anywhere.”
“Why not?” she calmly packed.
“Because you’re my wife and your place is here!”
“My place is where I’m respected,” Vera clicked the bag’s lock. “The bus leaves the day after tomorrow morning. I’ll return when you come back from Turkey.”
“Are you serious?” Igor went pale. “And what about Dad?”
“Hire a nanny. Or cancel the trip. Or take him to a nursing home. Lots of options.”
“Nannies cost money!”
“Turkey costs money too,” Vera retorted. “But you found money for the vacation.”
Igor was silent, clenching his fists. Then suddenly turned and left, slamming the door.
In the evening, Igor’s sister Tatiana from America called. Apparently, Igor complained to her.
“Vera, what’s going on? Igor said you refuse to help with Dad?”
“Tatiana, I refuse to work as a free nanny for two weeks,” Vera answered calmly.
“But it’s family! How can you?”
“How can you live in America knowing your father is drinking himself to death?” Vera was tired of hypocrisy. “Why should I solve your family’s problems?”
“Because you’re Igor’s wife!”
“Wife, not a servant. If you care so much about Dad — take a vacation, come and take care of him yourselves.”
Tatiana muttered something indignantly about tickets and work, but Vera had already hung up.
On the morning of Vera’s departure, Igor made a last attempt.
“Ver, let’s talk calmly,” he sat on the edge of the bed where she checked her bag. “I understand you’re tired. How about this — I’ll pay for spa treatments when I return. Or we’ll go together to a sanatorium.”
“Igor, it’s not about the spa,” Vera looked at her husband. “It’s about respect. You didn’t ask my opinion, just put me before a fact.”
“I thought you’d understand. It’s force majeure.”
“No, force majeure is when something unexpected happens. And your father has been drinking for three years. In that time something could have been done.”
“For example?” Igor looked confused.
“Convince him to get treatment. Find a good nursing home. Hire a permanent caregiver. But you chose the easiest way — dump it on me.”
There was a knock on the door. The father-in-law poked his head in.
“Sorry to bother. Vera, can I talk to you?”
She went into the corridor. Nikolai Petrovich looked sober and serious.
“Daughter, I heard everything. Don’t quarrel because of me. I’ll go home.”
“Nikolai Petrovich…”
“No-no, I understand,” he raised his hand. “You’re right. No need to be a burden. I have a pension, I’ll manage somehow.”
“Dad, where are you going?” Igor came out of the bedroom. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“I’ll go, son. No need to torment Vera. She’s a good woman, you don’t appreciate her.”
“Well, look at that,” Vera thought. “Is this a glimmer of consciousness?”
“Dad, we agreed,” Igor looked confused.
“You agreed with yourself,” the father shook his head. “But you didn’t ask Vera. That’s not good. I did the same with your mother — decided everything myself. Then wondered why she was always unhappy.”
Vera looked at her father-in-law with surprise. Sober, he turned out to be quite reasonable.
“Here’s the thing, kids,” Nikolai Petrovich continued. “Vera is going to rest at her mother’s — and that’s right. Igor is going to his Turkey — let him. And I’ll go home. Maybe I won’t die in two weeks.”
“But Dad…”
“That’s it, decided,” the father cut off. “Vera, daughter, forgive the old fool. Thanks for the shelter.”
He went to pack his few belongings. Igor stood in the corridor looking as if he’d been hit on the head.
“See, even Dad understands I’m right,” Vera said.
“He just… he doesn’t want to be a burden,” Igor muttered.
“Maybe he just respects other people’s boundaries? Unlike some.”
An hour later, the father-in-law left by taxi, hugging Vera goodbye and whispering: “Don’t let them push you around, daughter.” Igor withdrew into himself, demonstratively slamming doors.
In the morning, Vera stood at the bus stop with her bag. Igor drove her silently, not even helping with the luggage.
“You’re seriously leaving?” he asked as the bus arrived.
“Seriously. Have a good rest in Turkey,” Vera tossed the bag in the luggage compartment.
“Ver, this is silly! To make such a fuss over nonsense!”
“For you it’s nonsense, for me it’s a matter of principle,” she turned to her husband. “Igor, think about why your alcoholic father turned out to be more sensitive than you.”
The bus started moving. Vera sat by the window and sighed with relief. Two weeks in her mother’s village — silence, fresh air, no drunken fathers-in-law and selfish husbands.
The phone rang almost immediately — Igor. She hung up. Then a message came: “You’re acting like a child. Hope you come to your senses and come back.”
“Not a chance,” Vera thought, deleting the message.
Her mother met her with open arms.
“Verochka! Finally! You’ve forgotten me completely!”
“Mom, I was here for New Year,” Vera hugged her mother.
“Four months ago! Well, come in. I baked pies, I’ll put on tea now.”
Over tea, Vera told about the situation. Mom listened, shaking her head.
“Oh, Verochka. I told you — Igor is selfish. It was clear even at the wedding.”
“Mom, don’t start,” Vera rubbed her temples tiredly.
“What? Isn’t it true? How many times did he consider your wishes? Always does everything his way.”
Vera thought. Mom was right — Igor always made decisions alone. Where to live, where to vacation, when to have children… Even quitting work was his idea.
“I’m just tired, Mom. Tired of being convenient.”
“And good you came,” Mom stroked her hand. “Rest, think. Maybe Igor will come to his senses.”
In the evening came a message from the father-in-law: “Vera, I’m home. Everything’s fine. Not drinking. Thanks for opening my eyes. Igor could use some awakening too.”
Vera smiled. Who would have thought the drinking father-in-law would be an ally?
Two weeks flew by unnoticed. Vera helped her mother in the garden, went mushroom picking, swam in the river. Igor wrote for the first few days, then went silent — apparently decided to punish with silence.
The day before her return, he called:
“Ver, I’m flying tomorrow. When will you come?”
“The day after tomorrow,” she answered calmly.
“Great. Hope you rested and stopped sulking.”
“I’m not sulking, Igor. I’m defending my boundaries.”
“Alright, we’ll talk at home,” irritation was heard in his voice. “By the way, Dad called. Said he’s holding on, not drinking. See, everything worked out.”
“Yes, worked out. Without me,” Vera emphasized.
At home, Igor met her tanned, rested, but with a sour expression.
“Hope you’re happy,” he said instead of a greeting. “Because of your whims I had to blush in front of colleagues. Everyone asked where my wife was.”
“And what did you say?” Vera calmly unpacked her bag.
“That she went to her mother’s. They think we’re fighting.”
“Aren’t we?”
Igor sat on the bed watching his wife.
“Ver, let’s not. I rested, you rested. Everything ended well.”
“For you — yes. But I realized something important,” Vera turned to her husband. “That I won’t silently agree with your decisions anymore. I will voice my opinion. And if you try to decide something for me again — I’ll leave again.”
“Is that an ultimatum?” Igor frowned.
“New rules of the game. Either you start respecting me, or…”
“Or what?” He stood, crossing his arms.
“Or we’ll think about whether we need this marriage,” Vera said firmly.
Igor went pale. Seems he finally understood the seriousness.
“You want a divorce over some trip?”
“Not over the trip. Over seventeen years of my opinion not being considered. Over the fact that I was always a function — cooking, cleaning, caring. Over you deciding to dump the care for your father on me without asking.”
Igor was silent, digesting what he heard. Then sighed heavily.
“Alright. Maybe I really overdid it. What do you suggest?”
“For starters — talk. Discuss decisions together. And also,” Vera looked into his eyes, “I want to return to work.”
“Why? Not enough money?”
“It’s not about money. I want to be not just a wife and housewife. I want to be fulfilled.”
Igor nodded, though his face showed he didn’t like the idea.
In the evening the father-in-law called.
“Verochka, you’re back? How was your rest?”
“Good, Nikolai Petrovich. And you?”
“Holding on. You know, I thought… Maybe I should really go to a sanatorium? Get treated. I’m just a burden to everyone.”
“That’s a great idea,” Vera said sincerely. “Want me to help find a good one?”
“Thanks, daughter. Let Igor pay — better than wasting in Turkey.”
Vera laughed. The father-in-law definitely got wiser.
A month passed. Nikolai Petrovich went to the sanatorium, Vera got a job at a library near home. Igor grumbled at first, then got used to it. Even learned to heat his dinner when his wife was late.
One evening he said:
“You know, Ver, Dad was right. I behaved like the biggest egoist.”
“Wow, enlightenment,” Vera smiled.
“Don’t laugh. I’m serious. Forgive me.”
“I forgive. But don’t do that again.”
“I’ll try,” he hugged his wife. “Listen, maybe we really will fly together this summer? Wherever you want.”
“We’ll see,” Vera pressed against him. “But let’s discuss everything in advance. Together.”
“Deal,” Igor nodded.
And though Vera knew changing seventeen years of habits wouldn’t be easy, she believed they’d succeed. The main thing was the first step was made. She defended her right to have an opinion, respect, personal space. And it turned out the world didn’t collapse. On the contrary — it became more honest and right.
And Nikolai Petrovich from the sanatorium sent a photo — sober, fit, smiling. And the caption: “Thanks, daughter, for not babysitting me. Sometimes a person needs to be alone to understand simple things.”
Vera kept this photo as a reminder that sometimes refusing to help is also help. And that respect for yourself begins with the ability to say “no.”
