Nika hadn’t been herself lately. Serious cracks had appeared in her relationship with her husband, and she didn’t know how to endure the agony of it. It all started with little things—like it usually does.
After work Tolya began peppering her with poisonous remarks. His jokes were full of malice; every word cut deeper than a blow. With each passing day his behavior got worse. He wouldn’t give her a break even on vacation.
“You look like an old hag!” he’d say without looking up from his phone. “Other guys have wives like wives, and I’ve got some kind of shriveled prune!”
Nika really did look older than her years. Her job was heavy and demanding—it left its mark on her face. But it was especially painful to hear those words from her own husband. She worked for the family, earning twice as much as he did, so he had no reason to complain.
Tolya, meanwhile, spent his money however he wanted without consulting anyone: “I’ll spend it where I want! We don’t have kids to be saving up for!”
Nika put up with that too. Overall, there was enough to live on. They weren’t officially married, but they lived like spouses and weren’t in any hurry to have a wedding. However, Tolya’s mother had long called Nika her daughter-in-law, and Nika considered her a mother-in-law.
The mother-in-law turned out to be pushy and dissatisfied with life. She constantly interfered in the young couple’s affairs, and most of her nitpicking fell on Nika.
The couple lived in a detached house. Although it was in the city, the place needed constant upkeep. Nika often asked her husband for help:
“I just can’t keep up—I’m at work from morning till night!”
“What’s that to me?” Tolya would answer. “It’s your house, you’re the mistress here—what’s it got to do with me?”
And indeed: in winter the house sat buried in snowdrifts until Nika herself took up the shovel. In summer the grass grew almost up to the windows. She had to hire people to set things in order and then, after work, finish what they’d started herself.
Tolik, meanwhile, lay on the couch and only occasionally went out to check how things were going.
She forgave a lot, but the last straw was what she saw when she came home after a grueling workday. She was so tired she could hardly drag her feet, and she’d even stopped by the store on the way. Her palm ached from the heavy bag.
She hoped Tolya would meet her—she’d even called, but he didn’t answer. Sighing and wiping away sweat, Nika heard music coming from the yard.
Leaving the bag by the gate, she hurried into the house, where a lively disco was blasting. Inside, hurt and anger were building—today she was going to say everything she’d kept inside.
And there was a full-blown party going on! Loud music shook the windows. On the table were snacks and the ready-made dishes Nika had prepared in advance so she wouldn’t have to fuss in the evening. And Tolya, ignoring his wife, was dancing with some woman who had clearly had too much to drink and was dressed rather provocatively.
Without a word, Nika walked through the room and switched off the music.
Tolya slowly turned his bleary gaze. “What do you think you’re doing?” he slurred, swaying.
“I was going to ask you that! What’s going on? Who is this woman?”
His partner kept moving to her own rhythm as if nothing were happening.
“So what?” Tolya snorted. “I ran into an old classmate, so we celebrated. Or am I not allowed to relax in my own house?”
“If you recall, you yourself said this is my house and you have nothing to do with it. So now get out, see your guest off, and then we’ll talk!”
“I won’t!” Tolya tried to stand up straight, but he staggered.
Nika already felt nothing but disgust for him. He’d long since ceased to be a man in her eyes. And he was no help at all—just a burden. Live with him out of fear of being alone? No way!
Taking the woman firmly by the elbow, Nika led her out through the gate. “Time for you to go!”
Then she returned to the house. “Do I have to throw you out too, or will you leave on your own?”
The man shrugged, grabbed some salad and a bottle from the table and, swaying, headed for the exit.
“Live without me—then you’ll call, you drama queen!” he tossed over his shoulder.
“Oh dear, oh dear!” Tolya’s mother moaned, clutching her head. “My head is splitting!”
“Ma, don’t yell! Nika kicked me out. She didn’t like that I didn’t meet her,” the son lied, knowing his mother would take his side.
“And why should you have to meet her?” the woman was surprised.
“Who knows! She’s always picking on me—this isn’t right, that isn’t right! I’m sick of it! Maybe I get tired at work too? Think it’s easy for me? And why should I help in someone else’s house?”
“Exactly!” his mother backed him up. “Let her register the house first, give you a share, then she can ask! Look how high and mighty she is! So I’m supposed to meet her, am I? She’s a big strong girl—she should manage!”
“That’s what I told her! And she got offended!”
“Let her sulk! Don’t give in! No need to indulge her! She wants to get married—then she’ll have to put up with it! She’s not a little girl to be turning up her nose!”
“So what am I supposed to do now?” Tolya asked, hanging his head.
“Be patient, son!” his mother lectured. “She’ll come crawling back all meek and mild, begging you to return! Let her live a week alone—she’ll realize what she’s done right away! And don’t you give in—when she comes back, demand registration. Otherwise she’ll leave you with nothing!”
Thus the woman instructed her son, giving advice on how to handle Nika. And he listened closely, nodding along.
“You’re right, Ma! I won’t put up with her whims! Who does she think she is to boss me around? I’m not some slave—I’m a grown man! I’m my own master!”
Following his mother’s directions, Tolya really did decide to take action. He didn’t go home and didn’t call Nika; he waited exactly a week.
Truth be told, life with his mother wasn’t sweet either. She constantly nagged him too: do this, do that. When he tried to argue, the woman resorted to tried-and-true methods—she gave him a good whack across the back with a switch.
“You’re not at your wife’s here; you’re at home, with your mother! If you don’t work, you won’t get lunch!”
Clear and to the point. Don’t even try to argue.
At last, barely enduring those seven days, Tolik got ready to go home. “I’m going, Ma! I’ll see how she’s doing without me. She should be on her knees by now, begging me to come back!”
“Go, go! Just don’t back down! Say it plain—you’ll come back only on your terms!”
He walked out looking like a conqueror. Now I’ll show her who’s boss! His chin was proudly raised, his back straight, his step confident—almost with a swagger.
He approached the gate, entered the yard… and froze.
Something was off.
He looked around: the yard was neat, the grass trimmed level as if by a ruler, the windows sparkled, the flowerbeds were edged, the paths were clean with no hint of overgrowth.
And it wasn’t just that—everything around seemed alive, colorful, well-kept.
Even the gate was new—not the old creaky one, but a solid, reliable one.
Tolya took out his key but realized it no longer fit. He stood for a moment, then decisively walked to the door and knocked.
Footsteps paused inside, then the door opened.
But it wasn’t the same Nika. Not the one who walked around sullen, with dark circles under her eyes. In front of him stood a fresh, smiling woman with a sparkle in her eyes.
“I thought you’d be in here alone, suffering… And you… You could have at least called me!”
“Why?” Nika smiled gently and tilted her head playfully to one side.
“What do you mean, ‘why’? Your husband disappears for a week and you don’t even care?”
“I don’t have a husband,” she replied calmly.
“How would I have one?” Nika laughed. “There was a certain ‘visiting’ one—turned out to be a dud. Not even worth remembering!”
Tolya flushed crimson. “You talking about me?! You’re about to get slapped and change your tune! I should have straightened you out earlier! I just felt sorry for you before!”
He took a step forward, but Nika didn’t even flinch.
A tall man stepped out from behind the door, put a hand on her shoulder, and said firmly, “Hey, man, leave. And better make it peaceful.”
“And who’s this? Got yourself a lover? Fine—if you kick him out, I’ll forgive you and come back! I’ll even promise not to hit you!” Tolya declared grandly, feeling generous and magnanimous.
And then something strange happened. Either gravity failed or time glitched—one moment he was standing there, and the next he was already running. Running like the devil was after him! And someone behind seemed to be helping him pick up speed.
Nika stood on the porch laughing through tears as her older brother chased her ex-live-in boyfriend out of the yard. The guy practically flew toward the gate, and her brother hastened him along with a couple of well-placed kicks.
As soon as Tolik was over the threshold, the brother slammed the gate and returned to his sister.
“Nikuletchka, don’t you dare take that idiot back! Honestly, I don’t understand how you put up with him at all!”
Nika took a deep breath. “I’m a fool, that’s how. I kept thinking—maybe he’ll change.”
“Men like that don’t change—you kick them out! If you need help around the place, call me; I’ll come and help. And let it be clear to him he shouldn’t set foot here again.”
“And if he doesn’t get it?”
“Then I’ll explain it again,” her brother winked and went into the house with his sister.
Inside, guests were already celebrating, having watched the whole scene through the window.
“Well then, birthday girl—to you!”
“To the name-day girl!” came the chorus, and glasses clinked.
Nika smiled. How good it was to have an older brother—caring, strong, and always there!
