Elena opened her eyes at the sound of the alarm and reached for the nightstand, where a white envelope with a bank card lay. Every morning she checked that it was there—a habit she’d formed over two years of painstaking saving. Five hundred thousand rubles in a separate account were earmarked for the down payment on a new car, something Elena had been dreaming about ever since the old one finally fell apart.
The September morning was overcast, rain drizzling outside, and her husband Dmitry was already bustling in the kitchen, making breakfast. Mornings were usually a calm routine: coffee, sandwiches, a quick rundown of the day. But today something was off—Dmitry was glowing with a special kind of excitement.
“Lena, you’re finally up!” he exclaimed the moment Elena appeared in the kitchen. “I’ve got news for you!”
Elena poured herself some coffee and sat down, wondering what could have made her husband so happy on an ordinary workday.
“While you were asleep, I took your card and bought gifts for Mom for five hundred thousand!” Dmitry boasted, beaming like it was his birthday. “Can you imagine how happy she is now!”
The blood rushed to Elena’s face; she froze with the cup in her hands, trying to process what she’d heard. The words wouldn’t fit together in her head—had he really said what she thought she’d heard?
“What… what did you do?” Elena asked quietly, setting her cup on the table with trembling hands.
“A gold set, ordered online!” Dmitry continued enthusiastically. “A necklace, earrings, a bracelet—everything real, expensive! Mom cried from happiness when I told her! She said she never expected such a gift from her son!”
Elena rose slowly from the table and went to the bedroom. The envelope still lay on the nightstand, but now it seemed ominous. With shaking fingers she pulled out her phone and checked the card balance. Zero. A complete zero in the account she had topped up every month for two years.
“Dima!” Elena called, returning to the kitchen. “Come here. Now.”
Her husband approached with a pleased smile, clearly expecting gratitude for his deed.
“You took my card without permission?” Elena asked, showing him the phone screen with the zero balance.
“Well, yeah,” Dmitry replied carelessly. “So what? A man is obligated to make his mother happy, especially at her age. She’ll be turning seventy soon!”
“Seventy?” Elena clapped her hands in indignation. “Your mother is sixty-two, she’s healthy as a horse, and she’s still working! And the money you spent was for my car!”
Dmitry scowled, as if his wife were saying something out of line.
“What car?” he waved her off. “The buses run just fine; you get to work without a problem. But Mom has never bought anything for herself her whole life—she’s always thought about the family!”
“Valentina Georgievna has only ever thought about herself,” Elena shot back. “And you know it perfectly well. How many times has your precious mother thrown fits demanding gifts and money?”
“Don’t you dare talk about my mother like that!” Dmitry flared up. “Thanks to her I became who I am! And you… you’re just jealous that I have such a wonderful mom!”
Elena sank into a chair, feeling her legs go weak. Two years of saving, no vacations, buying only the bare essentials—all for the dream of having her own car. And now that money had turned into gold trinkets for her mother-in-law, who already had a decent jewelry collection.
“Listen to me carefully,” Elena said calmly, looking her husband straight in the eyes. “You didn’t give your money—you gave mine. And you did it while I was sleeping.”
“Mine, yours…” Dmitry waved his hand. “We’re a family! And a family should support the older generation!”
“A family, you say?” Elena nodded slowly. “So when I was saving this money by trimming the household budget, you kept quiet. But when you decided to spend it on a gift for your mother, you didn’t need any family consent?”
Dmitry tried to say something in reply, but his words got tangled. It was becoming obvious he couldn’t find any logical argument to justify what he’d done.
“You know what hurts the most?” Elena went on, standing up. “Not that you took the money without asking. It’s that you think it was the right thing to do. A heroic act.”
“And what’s wrong with it?” Dmitry repeated stubbornly. “Mom lives alone; there’s no one else to help her!”
“Alone?” Elena smirked. “Valentina Georgievna has a lovely apartment in the center, a stable job at a museum, and a decent length-of-service pension. How is she lonely?”
Her husband turned to the window, clearly unwilling to continue. But Elena wasn’t about to stop.
“Two years, Dmitry,” she repeated, counting on her fingers. “Twenty-four months I set aside twenty thousand rubles every month. I gave up cosmetics, clothes, entertainment. And you blew it all in one night on shiny baubles for Mommy.”
“You’re exaggerating,” Dmitry muttered. “You didn’t cut back that much.”
Elena went to the fridge and took out the shopping list she’d kept for the past six months. Every item was carefully calculated, every expense justified by necessity.
“Here, look,” she handed him the scribbled sheet. “Cottage cheese instead of cheese, chicken instead of beef, cheap pasta instead of the good kind. All so I could save for a car. And you decided you knew better where that money should go.”
Dmitry skimmed the notes and grimaced. The household budget had indeed been quite tight lately, but he had preferred not to notice.
“We’ll buy a car later,” Dmitry said uncertainly. “We’ll save up again.”
“Again?” Elena laughed, but the laugh came out bitter. “So another two years of cutting back on everything, and then you’ll decide to make your Mommy happy again? Or will you buy her a car this time?”
“Don’t be dramatic,” Dmitry tried to soothe her. “It was a one-off. Mom’s birthday is coming up; I wanted to do something nice.”
“Valentina Georgievna’s birthday is in March,” Elena said dryly. “That’s six months away. Or did you forget the calendar too, along with my consent to spend the money?”
Her husband fell silent, realizing he’d been caught in another lie. It was clear there had been no special occasion—he had just felt like playing the devoted son with someone else’s money.
“All right,” Dmitry sighed. “Maybe I rushed a little. But what’s done is done. You can’t return the jewelry.”
“Why not?” Elena asked. “You ordered online. That means you have fourteen days to return it.”
“Mom’s already bragged to all her friends!” Dmitry protested. “How am I supposed to tell her she needs to give the gift back?”
Elena studied her husband, finally grasping the scope of the problem. For Dmitry, his mother’s opinion—and that of her friends—mattered more than his own wife’s interests. And they had been married eight years.
“So your mother’s reputation is worth more than my money?” Elena asked calmly.
“What does reputation have to do with it?” Dmitry began to get heated. “It’s just… awkward, that’s all…”
“Awkward,” Elena repeated, nodding slowly. “And was it convenient for me to scrimp for two years for your mother’s jewelry? Got it.”
She took her bag and headed for the door. The conversation was over; conclusions had been drawn. She needed time to think this through and decide what to do next.
“Wait!” Dmitry shouted, catching up with her in the hallway. “Don’t be so stingy about it! You’ll buy the car later, but Mom is worth more than any car!”
Elena stopped by the front door and turned slowly. Her husband’s eyes showed genuine bewilderment—did he really not understand the magnitude of what he’d done?
“Worth more?” she asked quietly. “Your mother is worth more than my two years of saving? More than my trust in you?”
“What trust?” Dmitry waved it off. “The card was lying at home, not hidden! So it was fine to take it!”
Elena said nothing. She turned and went to the bedroom for her documents. Dmitry stood in the hallway, gradually realizing that his wife was more serious than he’d imagined.
“Lena, where are you going?” he asked, flustered, when she returned with her passport and bank papers in hand.
“To the bank,” Elena replied curtly, checking the contents of the folder. “I’m blocking all access today. You’re not touching my money again.”
“What do you mean, I won’t touch it?” Dmitry protested. “We’re husband and wife! Money should be shared!”
“You’ve already spent the ‘shared’ money on jewelry for Valentina Georgievna,” Elena said evenly. “From now on, we each have only our own.”
Dmitry tried to block her path, mumbling apologies and excuses.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you!” he insisted. “I just wanted to make Mom happy! You understand, she’s my mother! My only one!”
“I understand,” Elena nodded. “And that’s exactly why you sold off my life and my plans for some rings and a bracelet. Now step aside.”
“Where are you going?” Dmitry grabbed her arm. “Let’s talk this out calmly!”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Elena pulled away. “In my home, you’re now a guest. And you’re behaving like a rude guest who sticks his hands into other people’s money.”
“Other people’s?” Dmitry cried. “We’ve been married eight years! What do you mean, ‘other people’s money’?”
Elena headed for the door, but he tried to stop her again. So she held out her hand decisively.
“Give me the keys,” Elena demanded.
“What keys?” Dmitry didn’t understand.
“To my apartment. Which I bought before the marriage with my own money,” Elena said clearly. “While I was away, you used them as if they were yours. But the rules have changed.”
Dmitry blinked in confusion, unsure how to react to this turn. In all their years of marriage, his wife had never reminded him that the apartment belonged to her alone.
“Lena, don’t be childish,” he tried to change his tone. “You’d destroy the whole family over some purchase?”
“You destroyed the family when you decided my opinion didn’t matter,” Elena replied. “Keys. Now.”
Reluctantly, Dmitry fished the key ring out of his pocket. Elena took it and immediately dialed the number of the local police officer she’d met a year ago during a burglary at a neighbor’s apartment.
“Alexey Viktorovich? This is Elena Korneyeva,” she said into the phone. “Money was stolen from my card. My husband took five hundred thousand rubles without permission and spent it on gifts for his mother.”
Dmitry paled at the word “stolen.” Until that moment, he had seen the situation as a family spat that would blow over sooner or later. Involving the police changed everything.
“Lena, what are you doing?” Dmitry whispered. “What police? We’re a family!”
Elena finished her conversation with the officer and turned to her husband.
“Alexey Viktorovich will be here in an hour,” she said. “You can explain to him why you took someone else’s money without permission. In the meantime, you have time to pack your things.”
“Pack my things?” Dmitry repeated. “You’re throwing me out?”
“I’m throwing out the person who steals my money,” Elena corrected him. “And since you think your mother is worth more than your wife, you can go live with her. I’m sure Valentina Georgievna will be happy to take in her son—especially with such expensive gifts.”
Dmitry tried to object, but Elena had already disappeared into the bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror, unable to believe what was happening. That morning they had been an ordinary married couple, and now she was waiting for the police and throwing her husband out of the house.
Half an hour later Dmitry appeared in the hallway with two bags and a bewildered look. The scope of the problem had finally dawned on him—his wife was truly resolute.
“Lena, can’t we make up?” he asked pleadingly. “I’ll return the jewelry, I’ll find a way!”
“Too late,” Elena answered coolly. “You made your choice in the night when you took my card. I’m making mine now.”
“But I love you!” Dmitry exclaimed.
“People you love don’t rob you,” Elena replied calmly. “People you love don’t spend their savings on gifts for their mothers.”
The doorbell rang. Officer Alexey Viktorovich arrived right on time. Elena let him in and briefly laid out the situation, showing the empty account and the purchase receipts for the jewelry that Dmitry had left on his phone.
“Sir, did you really withdraw the money from your wife’s card without her knowledge?” the officer asked.
“Well… yes,” Dmitry admitted. “But I’m her husband! And I spent it on a gift for my mother!”
“Family ties don’t give you the right to dispose of someone else’s money,” Alexey Viktorovich explained. “The card is in your wife’s name, which means the money belongs to her. You should voluntarily make restitution, or this may go to court.”
“Court? For what?” Dmitry was frightened.
“Article 158 of the Criminal Code—theft,” the officer clarified. “It’s a large sum; the consequences can be serious.”
Dmitry was completely at a loss. He gathered the rest of his things and headed for the door, muttering about injustice and ingratitude. Elena saw him out and calmly turned the lock behind him.
That evening she sat in her kitchen with a cup of coffee, planning her next steps. Tomorrow she would file for divorce, change the locks, and deal with returning the jewelry. But for the first time in many years, Elena felt safe in her own home.
Her money, her plans, her life were now under her control. And Dmitry could enjoy the company of his beloved mother and explain to Valentina Georgievna why they would now have to live together. Perhaps the gold jewelry would soften that unpleasant fact.
