Victoria woke up early, before dawn. Outside, the autumn wind was rustling, chasing yellow leaves around the yard. The rain had stopped only by night, and now puddles made the asphalt gleam. Victoria got out of bed, threw on a robe, and went to the kitchen. Her mother-in-law was coming today, which meant everything had to be prepared in advance.
Her husband, Igor, was still asleep. Victoria quietly closed the bedroom door and got to work. First, she needed to tidy the apartment—vacuum, dust, wash the floors. Then—start dinner. Her mother-in-law, Raisa Stepanovna, was a demanding woman. She loved to criticize, to find fault even where there wasn’t any. Victoria knew this from experience and tried not to give her a reason to complain.
By eight in the morning the apartment was already sparkling. Victoria had washed the living room windows, put out fresh towels in the bathroom, and changed the linens in the guest room. Igor came out of the bedroom around nine, stretched, and yawned.
“Good morning,” her husband said as he walked past her into the kitchen.
“Morning,” Victoria answered, wiping the mirror in the hallway.
Igor poured himself some coffee, sat at the table, and stared at his phone. Victoria finished with the mirror and went into the kitchen.
“Igor, will you help me today? I need to cook a few things and there isn’t much time.”
He didn’t lift his eyes from the screen.
“I’ll help, of course. Tell me what to do.”
“Could you peel the vegetables? I’ll take care of the meat.”
“Uh-huh, in a minute,” Igor kept scrolling through the news.
Victoria took a chicken, vegetables, and herbs from the fridge and began to cut up the meat. Igor finished his coffee but still didn’t get up from the table. He kept sitting there with his phone.
“Igor, are you going to help?”
“Yeah, yeah—just a sec.”
Another ten minutes passed. Victoria finished with the chicken and started chopping onions. Igor remained seated at the table.
“Igor!”
“What?” He finally tore his eyes from the phone.
“You promised to help.”
“Vic, you’re the homemaker here—so go ahead and manage. I don’t know how to cook.”
Victoria clenched the knife in her hand. The blood rushed to her cheeks.
“So you’re going to sit on your phone all day?”
“What’s the problem? My mom is coming to see me, not my cooking. You’re the one who wanted to have everything ready.”
Victoria kept silent. Arguing made no sense. Igor got up from the table, took his phone, and went to the other room. Victoria was left alone in the kitchen and kept cooking.
By lunchtime three pots were boiling on the stove. Victoria was roasting a chicken, boiling potatoes, and stewing vegetables. Salads, appetizers, and bread were laid out on the table. The smells were delicious. Victoria wiped her hands on a towel and checked the time. Three hours left until her mother-in-law arrived. She still needed to set the table, change, and make herself presentable.
Igor came out around two.
“Smells good,” he said, peeking into the pots.
“Thanks.”
“When is Mom getting here?”
“At five.”
“All right. I’m going to take a shower.”
Igor went to the bathroom. Victoria took a tablecloth out of the cupboard and spread it on the table. She set out the plates and arranged the cutlery. She did everything carefully, without rushing. The tablecloth was snow-white, the plates shone, and the glasses caught the light. Victoria stepped back and assessed the result. Beautiful. Raisa Stepanovna wouldn’t be able to fault it.
When everything was ready, Victoria went to the bedroom and changed. She put on a simple dark blue dress, did her hair, and applied light makeup. She looked in the mirror. She looked tired, but neat.
Right at five the doorbell rang. Victoria went into the hallway. Igor was already at the door, opening it. On the threshold stood Raisa Stepanovna—a tall woman with short hair and a stern look. She wore a coat and carried a bag.
“Igoryok!” The mother-in-law hugged her son. “I’ve missed you so much!”
“I’ve missed you too, Mom. Come in, take your things off.”
Raisa Stepanovna took off her coat and handed it to Victoria. Victoria hung it on the rack and took the bag.
“Hello, Raisa Stepanovna. Please come in.”
Her mother-in-law gave her a quick, appraising look.
“Hello. You’ve lost weight, haven’t you?”
“No, everything’s the same.”
“It seems to me you have. That’s not good. Igor, are you feeding your wife?”
Igor laughed.
“I feed her, Mom. Don’t worry.”
Raisa Stepanovna went into the living room. She stopped in the middle of the room and looked around. Victoria stood in the doorway, watching.
“It’s clean,” the mother-in-law finally said. “Good job.”
Victoria exhaled. At least one word of praise.
“Thank you.”
Raisa went to the window and looked outside.
“The rain’s stopped. Good. It was pouring the whole way.”
“Please have a seat, Raisa Stepanovna. I’ll brew some tea.”
“Tea later. Show me what you made.”
Victoria led her to the kitchen. Raisa looked over the table, peeked into the pots, and sniffed. Her face remained impassive.
“Roast chicken?”
“Yes.”
“With garlic?”
“With garlic and herbs.”
She nodded.
“Good. And this?”
“Stewed vegetables. And potatoes.”
“Salads?”
“Two. One with cabbage, one with cucumbers.”
Raisa walked along the table, running her fingers along the edge of the tablecloth.
“Is the tablecloth new?”
“No, old. I just washed it.”
“I see.”
She went back to the living room. Victoria stayed in the kitchen. Igor followed his mother, talking about something. Victoria caught fragments—something about work, colleagues, a new project. Raisa listened attentively, nodding and occasionally asking questions.
Victoria took the chicken out of the oven and moved it to a platter. She garnished it with herbs and set it on the table. Then she spooned the salads into bowls and laid out the appetizers. Everything was ready. All that was left was to call them to the table.
She went into the living room.
“Raisa Stepanovna, Igor, please come. Everything’s ready.”
Her mother-in-law got up from the couch and went to the kitchen. Igor followed. Victoria approached the table, about to sit down.
“Mom, sit,” Igor pulled a chair out for his mother. “Sit here, in the place of honor.”
Raisa settled into the chair with satisfaction. Igor sat down next to her. Victoria stood by the table, waiting for her husband to invite her to sit.
“Mom, you and I will start first,” Igor said loudly without even glancing at his wife. “Let the others come later.”
Victoria froze. Her husband’s words hit like a slap. The others? Who were “the others”? She had cooked all day, cleaned the apartment, done her best. And now her husband was saying she had to wait while he and his mother ate first?
Raisa looked at her daughter-in-law, then at her son. She nodded, pleased.
“Right, Igoryok. Well done.”
Victoria stood, unsure what to do. Inside, everything was boiling. She wanted to shout; she wanted to walk out. Instead, she simply turned and left the kitchen.
She went to the bedroom and closed the door. She sat down on the bed. Her hands were shaking. Blood pounded in her temples. She had worked all day, cooked, cleaned. And for what? So her husband could humiliate her in front of his mother? So that Raisa would feel she was the mistress of this house?
Victoria closed her eyes. She needed to calm down. Think. Decide what to do next. Voices carried from the kitchen—Igor and Raisa were talking and laughing. She heard plates clinking and water being poured into glasses.
Ten minutes passed. Victoria got up and went to the window. It was getting dark. The streetlights were already on, shining on the wet asphalt. Leaves whirled in the wind and stuck to car windows.
There was a knock at the door.
“Vic, what are you doing in there?” Igor’s voice sounded annoyed. “Come out already.”
Victoria opened the door. Her husband stood in the hallway with his arms crossed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you sitting in the bedroom? Mom’s waiting.”
Victoria looked at him.
“Igor, do you seriously not understand what you did?”
“What did I do?” He frowned. “I just invited my mom to the table.”
“You said you and she would eat first. And I should wait.”
“So what? Mom’s a guest—she deserves the honor.”
“And what am I?”
Igor shrugged.
“You’re the homemaker. The homemaker should serve the guests.”
Victoria closed her eyes for a moment. The words came so naturally to him, as if he truly believed them. As if Victoria were a servant in her own home.
“Igor, I cooked all day. I cleaned, set the table. You didn’t even thank me. And now you humiliate me in front of your mother.”
“Humiliate?” He smirked. “Vic, you’re exaggerating. It’s just tradition. Elders are seated first.”
“What tradition? In what family is that a tradition?”
“In ours,” Igor raised his voice. “Mom always did it this way. And I will too.”
Victoria said nothing. There was no point arguing. Igor turned and went back to the kitchen. Victoria remained in the hallway, a knot tightening inside her.
A few more minutes passed. She went to the bathroom, washed her face with cold water, and looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was pale; her eyes were red. She took a deep breath and let it out. She had to pull herself together.
She returned to the kitchen. Igor and Raisa were finishing dinner. Their plates were almost empty. Her mother-in-law was dabbing her lips with a napkin.
“Tasty,” Raisa said, looking at her son. “Igor, you chose well. Your wife can cook.”
Igor nodded.
“Yeah, Mom. Vic tries.”
Victoria went to the table. She looked at what was left. Most of the chicken was gone, the salads were picked over, the appetizers too. There was very little remaining.
“Sit down, Vic,” Igor gestured toward an empty chair. “Finish what’s left.”
Victoria didn’t sit. She stood looking at her husband.
“I’m not going to eat.”
“How not?” Igor frowned. “You haven’t eaten all day.”
“I don’t want to.”
Raisa looked up at her daughter-in-law.
“Victoria, sit down. Don’t be capricious.”
Victoria looked at her mother-in-law, then at her husband. She turned and left the kitchen. She went to the bedroom, took her jacket and bag, and put on her shoes.
“Where are you going?” Igor ran out of the kitchen.
“I’m going out. I need some air.”
“Now? Mom just got here!”
“Let your mom spend time with you. That’s what you both wanted.”
Victoria opened the door and walked out of the apartment, slamming it behind her. Igor stood in the hallway. Raisa came out of the kitchen.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know, Mom. She took offense over something.”
Raisa shook her head.
“Young wives are so touchy. It’s fine—she’ll cool off and come back.”
Igor went back to the kitchen and sat down. Raisa sat beside her son.
“Igoryok, you’re too soft with her. You need to show right away who’s in charge at home.”
“I do show it, Mom.”
“Not enough. Look— you asked her to help and she immediately took offense. That’s wrong.”
Igor said nothing. Raisa put a hand on her son’s shoulder.
“A wife should respect her husband. And her husband’s mother, too. That’s the foundation of a strong family.”
“Yes, Mom. I understand.”
“Then be stricter. Don’t let her walk all over you.”
Igor nodded. Raisa stood up from the table.
“I’ll go wash up. And you think about how you’re going to talk to your wife.”
She left the kitchen. Igor stayed at the table. He looked at the half-eaten chicken and the empty plates. He picked up his phone and started scrolling through the news.
Victoria walked quickly down the street. The wind whipped her hair; the cold air stung her face. She noticed nothing around her. Inside, everything churned. Her husband’s words kept echoing in her head: “You and I will start first—let the others come later.” The others. She—Victoria—who had cooked and cleaned all day, done her best. She was “the others.”
She walked two blocks and stopped by a park. She sat on a bench and took out her phone. She looked at the screen. No calls, no messages. Igor hadn’t even thought to write and apologize. She put her phone back in her bag.
She sat for about twenty minutes. It was getting colder. She got up and kept walking. She went into a café and ordered tea. She sat by the window, watched passersby, and thought.
This wasn’t the first time Igor had behaved this way. She remembered other occasions: when he invited friends over and expected her to cook and clean; when Raisa came and made remarks while Igor said nothing; when he made decisions without her, without asking her opinion.
Victoria finished her tea, paid, and went back outside. She headed home, walking slowly and thinking about what she would say to her husband. They needed to talk. Seriously. Otherwise nothing would change.
She reached the building and took the elevator up. She opened the door. The apartment was quiet. She hung up her coat and went into the living room. Igor was on the couch watching TV. Raisa sat beside him, knitting.
“You’re back,” her husband noted without taking his eyes off the screen.
Victoria went to the kitchen. Dirty dishes filled the sink. The leftovers sat on the table. No one had thought to clean up. She looked at the mess. Something clicked inside her.
She turned and left the kitchen. She went to the bedroom, took a bag from the closet, and started packing.
A minute later there was a knock on the door.
“Vic, what are you doing?” Igor sounded irritated.
She didn’t answer. She kept folding clothes into the bag. Igor opened the door and came in.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting ready.”
“Where are you going?”
“To a friend’s. I’ll spend the night there.”
Igor crossed his arms.
“What’s all this theatrics for? I told you to sit down and finish what was left.”
Victoria turned to him.
“Igor, you humiliated me. In front of your mother. After I spent the whole day cooking and cleaning.”
“I didn’t humiliate you. Mom was a guest—she deserved attention.”
“And what am I?”
“You’re my wife. A wife should take care of the family.”
Victoria zipped the bag.
“I’m not a servant. And I won’t be one.”
“What nonsense is this?!” he raised his voice. “You’re exaggerating again!”
“I’m leaving.”
She took the bag and walked past him. He grabbed her arm.
“Are you seriously going to leave? Over something this silly?”
She pulled her arm free.
“It’s not silly. It’s disrespect.”
She left the bedroom. Raisa was standing in the hallway.
“Victoria, where are you going?”
“To get some fresh air.”
“At this hour? It’s already late.”
Victoria put on her coat and took her keys.
“Raisa Stepanovna, since you and Igor want to be first at the table, you can start cooking for yourselves.”
Her mother-in-law blinked in confusion.
“What? What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about how I won’t be serving people who don’t respect me.”
Victoria opened the door and left the apartment. Behind her she heard Igor shout:
“Vic! Come back right now!”
The door closed. Victoria went down the stairs and outside. She took out her phone and dialed her friend.
“Hello, Lena? It’s Vika. Can I come over? I need a place to stay the night.”
“Of course, come. What happened?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
She hailed a taxi and went to Lena’s. Her friend met her with tea and cookies. Victoria told her everything. Lena listened and shook her head.
“Vic, you did the right thing. You can’t put up with that.”
“I don’t know what to do next.”
“What is there to think about? If your husband can’t see he’s acting like a boor, then he needs a lesson.”
Victoria drank her tea. She turned off her phone. She lay down on the couch in Lena’s room. She didn’t fall asleep right away. Thoughts spun in her head. Igor still didn’t understand what he’d done wrong. Raisa believed she was right. And Victoria was tired of having to prove the obvious.
In the morning Victoria woke to the smell of coffee. Lena was already in the kitchen making breakfast.
“Good morning. How did you sleep?”
“Fine. Thanks for taking me in.”
“Don’t mention it. Stay as long as you need.”
Victoria washed up and had some coffee. She turned on her phone. The screen showed ten missed calls from Igor and three from Raisa. No messages. She put the phone back in her bag.
“They called?” Lena asked.
“Yeah. Igor and his mother.”
“Are you going to answer?”
“No. Let them think.”
Victoria spent the whole day at Lena’s. Her friend kept her distracted with conversation; they watched a movie and walked in the park. By evening Victoria decided to go back home. She needed to pick up more things and have a serious talk with Igor.
She reached the building around eight. She took the elevator up and opened the door. The apartment was silent. In the hallway, only her husband’s coat hung on the rack. Raisa was gone.
She went into the kitchen. The table was piled with dirty dishes—plates with dried-on leftovers, pots, pans. The air smelled of stale food. Victoria looked at the mess. No one had even tried to clean up.
Igor came out of the bedroom. His face was sullen; his eyes were red.
“You’re back.”
“Yes.”
“Where were you?”
“At Lena’s.”
He went into the kitchen and looked at the dirty dishes.
“Are you at least going to clean this up?”
Victoria raised her eyebrows.
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“I’m not cleaning up after you and your mother.”
Igor pressed his lips together.
“Vic, stop being ridiculous. You’re the homemaker.”
“The homemaker who was told to wait while the guests ate. Remember?”
He looked away.
“That was a tradition.”
“What kind of tradition, Igor? To humiliate your wife?”
“I didn’t humiliate you!”
“You did. And your mother backed you up.”
Igor fell silent. Victoria went to the bedroom and started packing more things. He followed her in.
“You’re leaving again?”
“Yes. For good.”
“What?!”
She kept folding clothes.
“I don’t want to live with someone who doesn’t respect me.”
“Vic, come on! You’re making a drama out of one evening!”
“It’s not one evening. It’s years. You’ve always put your mother above me. You’ve always taken her side. You’ve always thought I should please everyone.”
Igor sat down on the bed.
“You’re exaggerating.”
“No. I’m tired of enduring it.”
Victoria closed the bag and looked at him.
“Where’s your mom?” she asked.
“She left in the morning. Said she didn’t want to be the cause of a fight.”
“Smart.”
“Vic, let’s talk like adults. Without hysterics.”
“I’m not hysterical. I’m just telling you I’m leaving.”
He stood up.
“You can’t just leave like that!”
“I can.”
“The apartment? It’s in both our names!”
“I know. I’ll file for division of property.”
Igor turned pale.
“You want a divorce?”
“Yes.”
He said nothing. Victoria took her bags and headed for the door.
“Wait,” Igor blocked her path. “Vic, let’s discuss everything. I… I realize I was wrong.”
“Now you realize?”
“Yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Victoria looked at him.
“Igor, you didn’t hurt me with words. You hurt me with your attitude. You think I’m a servant. And your mother thinks she has the right to tell me how to live.”
“Mom’s just old-fashioned.”
“That’s not an excuse.”
His arms dropped.
“What can I do to make you stay?”
“Nothing. It’s too late.”
Victoria left the apartment. Igor was left standing in the hallway. The door closed. She went downstairs, got into a taxi, and went back to Lena’s.
The next few days passed in a fog. Victoria settled in at her friend’s and began looking for a lawyer. Igor called every day, begged her to come back, promised to change. Raisa called too, saying Victoria was destroying the family. But Victoria stood firm. The decision had been made.
A week later Victoria went to a legal aid office. The lawyer listened to her story and nodded.
“You have grounds for divorce. Jointly acquired property will be divided equally.”
“All right.”
“Are you sure about your decision?”
Victoria nodded.
“Absolutely.”
The documents were filed that same day. Igor received the notice three days later. He called Victoria and shouted into the phone.
“You really filed for divorce?!”
“Yes.”
“Over one dinner?!”
“Over many years of disrespect.”
“Vic, you’ve lost your mind!”
“No. I’ve just realized I deserve better.”
Victoria hung up. She didn’t answer her husband’s calls anymore. Raisa tried to come to Lena’s, but her friend didn’t open the door. The mother-in-law stood in the hallway shouting that Victoria had ruined her son’s life. Victoria didn’t come out.
The divorce process took several months. Igor tried to drag it out and refused to agree to the division of property. But Victoria’s lawyer was experienced and got it done. The apartment was sold and the money split equally. Victoria took her share and rented a studio in another district.
Igor tried to meet with his ex-wife several times. He texted and called. Victoria didn’t answer. Once he lay in wait for her by her building. Victoria came out and saw him.
“Vic, let’s talk.”
“We have nothing to talk about.”
“Forgive me. I was an idiot.”
Victoria looked at her ex-husband.
“Igor, you weren’t an idiot. You just didn’t respect me. And I’m done being a second-class person.”
“I’ll change!”
“Too late.”
She walked around him and kept going. Igor didn’t follow. He stayed where he was.
Six months passed. Victoria found a new job and met new people. Life became calmer—without constant criticism and humiliation. One day in a café she ran into an acquaintance of Raisa’s. The woman came up to her table.
“Victoria? What a coincidence!”
“Hello, Vera Pavlovna.”
“How are you? I heard you and Igor divorced.”
“Yes.”
Vera sat down across from her.
“Raisa still can’t calm down. She says you destroyed the family.”
Victoria smiled faintly.
“The one who can’t show respect is the one who destroys a family.”
“You mean Igor?”
“Him and his mother.”
Vera nodded.
“You know, I always told Raisa she spoiled her son too much. But she wouldn’t listen. And now here we are.”
“What do you mean?”
“Igor is alone. Women keep running from him. He was seeing a girl recently—she left after a month. Said she didn’t want to be a maid.”
Victoria finished her coffee.
“So the lesson didn’t sink in.”
“Apparently not.”
They said goodbye. Victoria left the café, walking and thinking. Igor still hadn’t understood he was wrong. Raisa still believed she was right. And Victoria simply lived her life—without humiliation or disrespect.
That evening Victoria went home. She made herself dinner and sat at the table. She ate slowly, enjoying the quiet. No one told her when to sit down. No one said she had to wait until others finished. Victoria was the mistress of her own life. And that was the best decision she had ever made.
A year later Victoria met Andrei. He was polite and attentive. He respected her opinion, helped around the house, and never belittled her. They dated for six months, and then Andrei proposed. Victoria accepted.
The wedding was modest, only the closest people. Victoria was happy. Andrei proved that a man can be a man and still respect a woman; that he can be a loving son and still put his wife first.
Igor, meanwhile, remained alone. Raisa continued to dote on him—cooking and cleaning. Igor lived with his mother and worked, but his personal life didn’t come together. Each new girlfriend left, unable to bear a relationship with a man who didn’t know how to respect others.
Sometimes Victoria thought about the past. But she didn’t regret anything. That evening when Igor said that he and his mother would eat first had been a turning point. Victoria realized she no longer wanted to be the person in her own home who was asked to sit down last. And she left. Without shouting or hysterics. She simply left and began a new life.
A life in which she was respected. A life in which she came first. A life she deserved.
