“I came home at the wrong time—or at exactly the right time to catch my mother-in-law playing the heiress in action. Trying on my jewelry came with plans for my property. Then a call to the lawyer.”
Tatyana stood in front of a huge mirror in the walk-in closet, scrutinizing her reflection. An ivory cashmere suit flattered her figure. Important negotiations with potential investors lay ahead today. She had to look perfect.
“Andrey, have you seen my diamond earrings? The ones Dad gave me for my thirtieth?” she called to her husband.
Andrey, a tall brunette with kind brown eyes, peeked into the closet.
“I think you keep them in the top drawer of the jewelry box,” he said, finishing his morning coffee.
Tatyana opened the box and took out the earrings. Their sparkle always gave her confidence. Her father had taught her to value quality things—those that don’t just look expensive but last.
Casually, Andrey said,
“Mom’s dropping by today. She asked for a spare set of keys. Says she wants to surprise us.”
Tatyana sighed heavily.
“Your mother and her surprises again,” she muttered.
Andrey frowned.
“Tanya, don’t start. Mom just wants to be helpful.”
Tatyana snapped the jewelry box shut.
“Every one of her visits ends with her reproaching me. Andrey, I’m tired of constantly feeling guilty just because I’ve achieved a lot.”
Her husband came closer and put an arm around her shoulders.
“Mom will get used to it soon. She just needs time.”
“Three years of marriage isn’t enough?” Tatyana gently slipped out of his arms. “All right, I’m running late. See you tonight.”
As she left the house, Tatyana glanced at the magnificent garden she had lovingly created over the past two years. The spacious two-story mansion, built to her own design, reflected everything she had achieved through hard work. At thirty-three, Tatyana owned a successful design studio, had several lucrative investments, and was fully in charge of her life.
She had met Andrey at a charity gala. He worked as an architect for a major construction company. Modest, intelligent, with a good sense of humor—Andrey had won her heart at once. And then his mother, Lyudmila Sergeyevna, entered the picture.
Tatyana still remembered her first visit after the wedding. Looking around the luxurious interior, her mother-in-law pursed her lips and said:
“Imagine, so young and you already have so much. I worked as a teacher my whole life, earned pennies, saved nothing.”
Remarks like that became the norm. If Tatyana wore a new dress, Lyudmila Sergeyevna would inevitably ask its price and shake her head. If Tatyana planned a vacation, the comment followed:
“I haven’t been to the sea in ten years. My pension is small, and my son isn’t a millionaire.”
Tatyana never answered such jabs. Her father had always told her, “You don’t owe anyone an explanation. Just do your work.” And that’s what she did—growing her business, tending to the house, building her marriage. But the more successful Tatyana became, the more her mother-in-law’s resentment grew.
That evening, after a long day, Tatyana started the car and headed home. Her phone rang halfway there.
“Tanya, I’m sorry, but I’ll be late tonight,” Andrey said, sounding guilty. “Urgent meeting.”
“All right, don’t rush,” Tatyana replied.
Parking by the house, she noticed the living-room light was on. “Did Andrey lie?” the thought flashed, then vanished. By the gate stood her mother-in-law’s old Lada.
“Perfect,” Tatyana muttered. “Seeing my mother-in-law is exactly what I needed now.”
She slipped quietly into the house and heard rustling from the upstairs bedroom. Pausing halfway up the stairs, she listened. Her mother-in-law was humming a tune and, by the sound of it, opening drawers in the wardrobe.
On tiptoe, Tatyana reached the half-open bedroom door. What she saw made her jaw drop: Lyudmila Sergeyevna stood before the bedroom mirror trying on a sapphire necklace Tatyana had received from her parents as a wedding gift.
“I’ll sell these trinkets,” the older woman said, admiring her reflection. “I’ll put the money into my own apartment. Maybe even take a trip to the seaside.”
She twirled before the mirror, wearing not only the necklace but Tatyana’s earrings as well. On the bed lay the open jewelry box.
“And it’s high time Andrey demanded his share,” she went on, adjusting the necklace. “They’ve lived together for years and everything’s in her name. I’ll teach my boy how to put this lady up against the wall.”
Tatyana took out her phone and started recording.
“Then he’ll divorce her, take half the property, and we’ll live like royalty,” Lyudmila Sergeyevna laughed, turning to see herself from another angle.
At that moment Tatyana pushed the door open. Her mother-in-law froze, mouth agape.
“Please, do go on, Lyudmila Sergeyevna,” Tatyana’s voice was icy calm. “Your plan to avenge my success is absolutely riveting.”
Lyudmila Sergeyevna paled and began hastily removing the jewelry.
“Tanechka, I was just trying them on… it’s not what you think…”
“And what should I think?” Tatyana walked to the bed and carefully put the scattered pieces back in the box. “I heard everything. And I recorded it.”
“You recorded me?” Fear turned to outrage. “How dare you! I’m your husband’s mother!”
“And I am the mistress of this house and the owner of this jewelry,” Tatyana said, holding up her phone. “Let’s clarify things.”
She dialed her lawyer and put the call on speaker.
“Good evening, Viktor Pavlovich. A hypothetical question: if my husband decides to file for divorce, what does he get?”
“Tatyana Alexandrovna, always with the hypotheticals,” the lawyer chuckled. “Absolutely nothing. The house was acquired before the marriage. The business was founded before the marriage. The car, accounts, investments—all are in your name. Your prenuptial agreement clearly stipulates there is no jointly acquired property.”
“And if he files a claim to divide the assets?”
“He’ll lose,” the lawyer replied. “Everything is legally airtight.”
“Thank you.” Tatyana ended the call and turned to her ashen mother-in-law. “What do you say now, Lyudmila Sergeyevna?”
The front door banged. A minute later Andrey appeared on the bedroom threshold.
“Mom? Tanya? The meeting was canceled! What’s going on?” He looked back and forth between them, bewildered.
“Andryushenka!” his mother rushed to him. “Your wife… she’s accusing me! I just stopped by to check on you, and she—”
“Nothing of the sort,” Tatyana cut in. “Your mother was trying on my jewelry and laying out plans for how you would divorce me and take my money.”
“What nonsense?” Andrey frowned. “Mom would never…”
Tatyana silently played the recording. The room filled with Lyudmila Sergeyevna’s voice expounding her devious plan.
When it ended, the older woman cried out:
“That’s… that’s taken out of context! I was just fantasizing!”
Tatyana shook her head.
“Fantasizing about how to swindle me? You know, I’ve put up with your barbs for three years. I’ve listened to how hard your life is. I kept quiet when you criticized my house, my clothes, my lifestyle. But now—enough.”
Andrey grabbed his head.
“Mom, why did you do this?”
“What did I even do?” she flared. “Your wife flaunts her money! Looks down on everyone! And you don’t see a single kopeck from her!”
“I earn a decent salary,” Andrey said quietly.
“Pennies!” his mother snapped. “She makes millions and won’t even help your own mother! Heartless!”
Arms crossed, Tatyana said,
“My father always told me, ‘No one has a right to your money. Not even the closest people.’ He taught me to rely only on myself. And I’m not going to support those who are perfectly capable of working.”
“See what she’s like?” Lyudmila turned to her son. “Cold, calculating! She’s not a woman, she’s a calculator!”
Andrey stood with his head bowed. Tatyana waited for him to speak up, to take her side. But he was silent. At last he raised his eyes.
“Tanya, you could be kinder to my mother.”
Tatyana stepped back, not believing her ears.
“Kinder? Your mother was planning to take half of everything I own! And I’m supposed to be kinder?”
“You’re always thinking only of yourself,” Andrey went on. “Mom’s right. You can see how hard it is for her to live on a pension…”
“Oh, what an obedient son,” Tatyana said bitterly. “He won’t defend his wife, but his mother—always.”
“Don’t you dare talk about my son like that!” Lyudmila flared.
“You know what?” Tatyana walked to the door. “Both of you can leave my house. Now.”
“But Tanya…” Andrey began.
“I’m serious. Pack your things. You’ve chosen your mother’s side—so go live with her.”
“You can’t do this!” shrieked Lyudmila.
“Oh, but I can,” Tatyana pointed to the door. “And I advise you not to show up here again. Otherwise I’ll file a police report.”
An hour later Andrey and his mother had left. Tatyana sat in the living room with a glass in hand, gazing at the night garden through the picture windows. The phone rang several times—Andrey tried to reach her, but she didn’t answer.
The divorce was quick and quiet. Tatyana threw herself into work. Her business thrived. A new line of designer jewelry was a huge success. She bought a small house on the Italian coast and spent her vacations there alone.
Time flew. Sometimes in the evenings, sitting on the terrace overlooking the sea, Tatyana thought about her failed marriage. A pity that Andrey had turned out not to be someone she could rely on. But she didn’t regret the divorce. Better to be alone than with a traitor.
Her father had always told her, “My girl, your wealth isn’t in money, but in your ability to decide your own fate.” And Tatyana was grateful for that lesson. At thirty-five she knew for certain: her solitude was not a sentence, but a conscious choice. And if one day a man appeared by her side again, it would be someone who valued not her money, but her.
For now she savored her freedom—and regretted nothing.
