When Svetlana saw her former mother-in-law in the school corridor, her heart began to race. She knew that Valentina Sergeyevna had also come to the parent-teacher meeting—those were held for the entire grade. Her daughter had just started eighth grade, and the divorce from Andrei had happened only three months ago.
“You’re here too?” Valentina Sergeyevna said coolly, giving her a once-over.
“I’m Dasha’s mother—where else would I be?” Svetlana tried to smile.
“I thought your personal life came first now.”
Svetlana clenched her teeth and kept silent. Rumors spread around the town like a virus. Since the divorce, every trip to the store felt like torture—as if she weren’t buying milk but starring in a reality show called “Let’s Judge the Divorcée.”
“You do realize that’s not true,” she said quietly.
“Oh, of course! Andryusha told me everything.”
Svetlana walked into the classroom and took an empty seat by the window. Her phone buzzed almost immediately—a message from her daughter: “Mom, Grandma called. Said she ran into you. Are you okay?”
“Everything’s fine, sweetie, don’t worry,” Svetlana wrote back, though inside everything was boiling.
After the meeting, Svetlana ran into Marina, the mother of one of Dasha’s classmates. Marina hesitated when she saw her.
“Hi, Sveta. How are… things?”
“Fine, thanks.”
“Sorry, but everyone’s saying…” Marina lowered her voice. “That you left Andrei for another man.”
“What?!” Svetlana froze. “Who’s saying that?”
“Well, his mother told people at Nina Pavlovna’s birthday. Said you destroyed the family, and now Dashka’s living any old way, eating convenience foods…”
Svetlana’s vision darkened. Every evening she cooked dinner for her daughter, even when she came home from work wrung out like a rag.
“That’s not true,” she managed.
“I don’t believe it either—you’re a good mother,” Marina said uncertainly. “They’re also saying you can’t cope and that custody could be taken away.”
Svetlana turned without a word and walked out of the school. It felt like a hollow had opened in her chest.
At home, Dasha was watching a show on her laptop.
“Hi, Mom. How was the meeting?”
“Fine,” Svetlana tried to keep her voice even. “Did they assign much for the summer?”
“Yeah, the list is long.” Dasha paused. “Mom, why did you and Dad split up?”
The question came unexpectedly. They’d talked about it before, but without details.
“We just couldn’t live together anymore, sweetie.”
“Grandma Valya says you found another man.”
Svetlana froze. Everything inside her twisted.
“Grandma’s mistaken.”
“She also said you destroyed our family,” Dasha’s voice wavered, “and that you don’t really love me.”
“Dasha, you know that isn’t true!” Svetlana sat down beside her, but her daughter pulled away.
“Then why did you get divorced? I don’t want to live like this!”
Svetlana looked at her daughter and couldn’t find the words. How do you explain to a teenager that eighteen years of marriage simply evaporated? How do you tell her that her father had ignored both her mother and her for years?
“Dasha, your dad…” She faltered. “He’s a good person, but living with him became impossible.”
“Why?” Tears stood in Dasha’s eyes.
“He was never home. All the holidays, birthdays… Remember how he missed your elementary school graduation?”
“He had an important meeting,” Dasha muttered.
“He always had important meetings. And I was always alone,” Svetlana sighed. “And these last years he… he said things to me…”
“What things?”
“That I was useless. Fat. Old,” the words burst out. “That nobody but him would ever want me.”
Dasha went quiet. Then she mumbled:
“He sometimes said that to me… about you.”
They sat in silence. Hot tears ran down Svetlana’s cheeks.
The next day her friend Olga called.
“Sveta, are you okay? I heard that yesterday at the meeting Valentina, right in front of everyone…”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Svetlana cut her off.
“Don’t be mad. Many people are on your side. We remember what Andrei was like. How he humiliated you in front of everyone.”
“Still, now all anyone talks about is my personal life.”
“Then don’t stay silent! Tell your side.”
“What for? So I look like a victim? Or a vicious harpy?” Svetlana closed her eyes. “I just want them to leave Dasha and me alone.”
A week later, Dasha came back from her father’s in tears.
“What happened?” Svetlana hugged her.
“It was… Grandma again. Talking about you,” Dasha sobbed. “She said you’re going downhill. That I’d be better off living with Dad.”
“And what did you say?”
“Nothing. Then Dad said he might file for custody.”
Svetlana went cold.
“He said that?”
“Yeah. That he’ll prove you’re a bad mother.”
That evening Andrei called himself.
“Hello,” his voice was as brisk as ever. “We need to talk about Dasha.”
“About what exactly?”
“She should live with me. I can offer better conditions.”
“Andrei, we settled this during the divorce. She lives with me and sees you on weekends.”
“Mom thinks your situation isn’t suitable.”
“Your mom?” Svetlana barely kept her composure. “Seriously? And conditions where a child sees her father once a week, if she’s lucky—those are suitable?”
“Don’t exaggerate! And anyway, this is your own fault. If it weren’t for your hysterics…”
Svetlana muted the call and watched her ex-husband’s lips move on the screen. Always the same. Accusations, attempts to paint her as crazy.
“Are you listening?” his voice broke through again. “I’ve already consulted a lawyer.”
“Wonderful. Do whatever you want,” she hung up.
Five minutes later her phone exploded with messages from her former mother-in-law. “How dare you talk to the father of your child like that?” “We all know who you really are!” “You’ve disgraced the whole family!”
Svetlana turned off her phone.
At the end of August they scheduled another parent-teacher meeting—right before the start of the school year. Svetlana walked to the school with a heavy heart. Over the month the tension had only grown: Andrei had repeatedly threatened to sue for custody, and his mother kept spreading rumors.
The teachers’ room was stuffy. The homeroom teacher, Nina Petrovna, handed out printed schedules.
“So, this year we’re stepping up exam prep,” Nina Petrovna adjusted her glasses. “We’ll also be collecting for new curtains.”
Svetlana noticed Valentina Sergeyevna whispering with another mother, nodding in her direction. The woman shot Svetlana a sympathetic look.
“By the way, about exam prep,” Valentina suddenly said loudly. “Children need a calm environment. Stability.”
Nina Petrovna looked at her in surprise.
“Yes, of course…”
“Some parents,” the ex-mother-in-law stressed the word, “forget that. They only think about themselves.”
A hush fell over the room. Everyone knew who she meant.
“Valentina Sergeyevna, let’s get back to the agenda,” the teacher tried to intervene.
“I am on the agenda! I’m talking about the children!” the older woman raised her voice. “Dasha Vorontsova used to be a straight-A student, and now what? Her mother broke up the family, thinks only of her love life, and the child is suffering!”
Svetlana felt her cheeks burn. All eyes turned to her.
“Valentina Sergeyevna, this is a private—” Nina Petrovna began again.
“No, let’s discuss it!” the ex-mother-in-law wouldn’t stop. “Everyone knows Svetlana left my son. And now Dasha’s living who-knows-how. How can there be any exams in an environment like that?”
Something snapped inside Svetlana. She stood up slowly.
“You know, I kept quiet for a long time,” her voice sounded unexpectedly firm. “I thought I had to endure it for Dasha’s sake. But I won’t anymore.”
She looked straight at her former mother-in-law.
“You say I destroyed the family? And who built that family? For eighteen years I carried everything on my back—home, child, work. And where was Andrei? At his ‘important meetings’?”
“He provided for you!” Valentina protested.
“Provided?” Svetlana let out a bitter laugh. “I’m carrying three loans in my name. For the car he crashed. For the renovation we never finished. He doesn’t even pay alimony regularly!”
The room went utterly silent.
“And also,” Svetlana went on, “your son spent years telling me what a nothing I am. Fat. Stupid. He said it in front of Dasha! You think that’s normal?”
Valentina turned pale.
“Andryusha would never…”
“Ask Dasha,” Svetlana cut her off. “And yes, I filed for divorce. Because I was tired of living with someone who didn’t respect me. And if you keep spreading rumors and threatening me with custody, I’ll go to court. For slander. I have your messages, and I have witnesses.”
She took a breath and added, more quietly:
“I don’t keep Dasha from seeing her father or her grandmother. But I won’t allow you to humiliate me anymore.”
“Let’s get back to academics,” Nina Petrovna said, looking flustered.
After the meeting several mothers approached Svetlana.
“You did the right thing,” Marina said softly. “We all knew what Andrei was really like.”
“Why didn’t anyone say anything sooner?” Svetlana asked bitterly.
Marina shrugged.
“We were afraid to interfere. I’m sorry.”
Svetlana walked home with a heavy heart. She alternated between regretting her outburst and replaying every word she’d said. How would Dasha react when she found out about the scene? What would happen next?
Her daughter met her with a wary look.
“Mom, Polina texted me. Her mom was at the meeting.”
Svetlana sighed.
“And what did she say?”
“Everything,” Dasha stared at the floor. “That you stood up to Grandma Valya. What you said about Dad.”
“I’m sorry,” Svetlana sat on the couch. “I know you hate it when we…”
“No!” Dasha suddenly lifted her head. “You did the right thing! I’ve been wanting you to stop keeping quiet for a long time.”
“Really?”
“Of course! Grandma’s always saying awful things about you. And Dad, too. I didn’t know what to do.”
Dasha sat down beside her and hugged her. For the first time in a long while, Svetlana felt she could breathe freely.
Andrei called an hour later.
“What was that stunt?” he barked instead of hello. “Mom’s hysterical!”
“I’m calm,” Svetlana answered evenly. “For the first time in a long while.”
“Do you realize you disgraced the whole family? Everyone’s talking!”
“Andrei, they’ve been talking for the last three months—thanks to your mother and you. I just told my side.”
“Your ‘side’?” he snorted. “You made me out to be a monster!”
“I told the truth,” Svetlana tightened her grip on the phone. “And yes, I’m serious about court. One more threat about custody or one more round of gossip—and I file a complaint.”
Silence hung on the line.
“You’ve changed,” Andrei said at last.
“Yes. I have.”
For a few days the town buzzed—the story got around to everyone. Some condemned Svetlana for the public scene, but many unexpectedly took her side. It turned out Andrei had a reputation as someone who talked a good game but did little.
A week later, something unexpected happened. The doorbell rang, and on the threshold stood Andrei’s sister, Natasha.
“May I come in?” she looked embarrassed.
“Of course,” Svetlana let her in.
Natasha turned the teacup in her hands for a long time before speaking.
“I came to apologize. For Mom. For all of us.”
“There’s no need,” Svetlana shook her head.
“There is,” Natasha said firmly. “We all knew what Andrei could be like. But we looked the other way. It was easier.”
She set down the cup.
“I talked to Mom. Really talked. It’s hard for her to admit her son isn’t perfect, but she won’t interfere anymore. And the custody talk—that was empty bluster.”
“Thank you,” was all Svetlana could say.
Life slowly began to settle. Dasha went back to school, and although the first days were awkward, everyone soon got used to it. Relations with Andrei remained tense. But at least now he was paying alimony on time.
One morning, in the supermarket, Svetlana ran into Valentina Sergeyevna. They both froze by the grain aisle.
“Hello,” Svetlana was the first to break the silence.
Valentina nodded.
“How’s Dasha?” she asked unexpectedly.
“Good. She’s preparing for an algebra test.”
The older woman hesitated, then said tentatively:
“I baked pies. Apple. Dasha likes them.”
“She does,” Svetlana agreed.
“Maybe you’ll come by? On Sunday?”
It wasn’t an apology. It wasn’t an admission of guilt. But it was a first step.
“I’ll ask Dasha,” Svetlana said. “If she wants to, we’ll come.”
That evening, as she tucked her daughter into bed, Svetlana thought about how much she had changed in these months. She had learned to say “no.” To defend her boundaries. Not to fear judgment.
“What are you thinking about?” Dasha looked up sleepily.
“That we made it through,” Svetlana stroked her hair. “And we’ll keep making it.”
“Together?”
“Yes, sweetie. Together.”
When Dasha fell asleep, Svetlana sat by the window. Rain was falling outside—soft and warm. Summer rain. Washing the city, rinsing away dust and gossip. For the first time in a long while, she felt not bitterness, not resentment, but a calm certainty. Life goes on—and now it will be her life. On her terms.
Her phone vibrated gently. A message from Natasha: “How are you? Dasha said she’s studying algebra. I can help—that’s my strong suit.”
Svetlana smiled and typed a reply: “Thank you. I think she’d be glad.”
Small steps. Small victories. Now she knew that after any storm comes the calm. You just have to find the strength to stand through it.
