Tatiana slowly twirled to the lilting waltz, feeling the white silk of her wedding dress flow around her legs. Igor held his wife firmly by the waist, his eyes full of tenderness and promises of a happy future. The hall was decorated with roses and golden ribbons; guests smiled, raising their glasses of champagne.
“You’re so beautiful today,” Igor whispered in her ear, and Tatiana’s heart began to beat faster.
“I can’t believe we’re husband and wife now,” the young woman replied, nestling closer to her husband’s shoulder. “It feels like a dream.”
“Not a dream, my dear. This is the beginning of our real life.”
Tatiana closed her eyes and pictured their cozy one-room apartment they’d been renting for six months. Their shared furniture stood there—the sofa they’d bought together, the bookshelves Igor had assembled, the little table by the window where they drank coffee in the mornings. Everything simple, but dear. After the wedding they planned to move to a larger place, to find something in a quiet neighborhood, maybe with a balcony.
The music ended, and the guests grew lively, congratulating the newlyweds. The groom’s and bride’s parents hugged, shared plans for the future, and talked about grandchildren. Lyudmila Petrovna, Igor’s mother, looked especially pleased, constantly adjusting her hair and smiling at the guests.
“What a beautiful couple!” an elderly neighbor exclaimed. “And how wonderful that Igor has finally found himself a life partner!”
“Tatiana is a golden girl,” Lyudmila Petrovna nodded. “Hard-working, modest. That’s the kind that makes good wives.”
By evening the guests began to leave. The waiters were clearing dirty dishes from the tables, the air held the scent of wilting flowers and the remnants of festive bustle. Tatiana felt a pleasant weariness—the day had been full and exciting, but now she wanted to be alone with her husband.
“Shall we go home?” Igor suggested, helping his wife gather the train of her dress.
“Of course,” Tatiana smiled. “I’m dreaming of taking off these shoes and just sitting with you in silence.”
“Thank you for everything, Mom,” Igor said, hugging his mother, and she whispered something in his ear.
“Take care of each other, children,” Lyudmila Petrovna wished, kissing her daughter-in-law on the cheek.
In the taxi Tatiana leaned against her husband’s shoulder and closed her eyes in bliss. The city lights flickered past the window, and peace reigned in her heart. A whole life together lay ahead—breakfasts in bed on weekends, movies together in the evenings, trips to her parents’ dacha, maybe children in a couple of years.
The hum of the engine lulled her, and Tatiana dozed off without noticing. She woke to a sudden jolt—the taxi had braked in front of a familiar building.
“We’re here,” the driver said.
Tatiana looked around in confusion. It was Lyudmila Petrovna’s building—a five-story Khrushchyovka on the outskirts of the city, with an old poplar growing beside it.
“Igor,” his wife said in surprise, “we’ve come to the wrong place. This is your mother’s building.”
“It’s the right place,” her husband replied calmly as he paid the driver. “Get out.”
“But why? It’s late—your mom must be asleep.”
“She’s not. She’s waiting for us.”
Igor took Tatiana by the arm and led her toward the entrance. The young woman followed, bewildered, not understanding what was happening.
The apartment door opened immediately, as if Lyudmila Petrovna had been standing by the window watching for their arrival.
“At last!” the mother-in-law said happily. “Come in, come in. You must be tired?”
“Mom, why are we here?” Tanya asked.
“What do you mean why?” Lyudmila Petrovna was surprised. “You’ve come home.”
Tatiana took in the familiar entryway with its flowered wallpaper and the rug with little dogs. The air smelled of borscht and old furniture.
“You must be joking,” Tatiana said. “We need to go to our place.”
“Your home is here,” the mother-in-law said loudly.
“What?” Tatiana frowned and tilted her head, trying to make sense of the words.
“Go on into the room—why are you crowding in the hall?” Lyudmila Petrovna waved them in.
In the living room by the wall stood two large suitcases and several cardboard boxes. Tatiana recognized her things—her favorite lamp with the shade, a stack of books, framed photographs.
“What is this?” the young woman asked quietly.
“Your things,” Lyudmila Petrovna reported as if it were self-evident. “I asked the guys; they packed everything carefully and brought it over. Igor gave them the keys.”
“Igor, what is she talking about?” Tatiana turned to her husband.
“Tanya, we’re going to live here now,” he said calmly. “With Mom.”
“What do you mean, with your mom?” Tatiana couldn’t believe her ears. “We’re renting an apartment. Our lease runs through the end of the year.”
“I terminated the lease. Why waste money when Mom has room?”
“But we never agreed to this!” his wife protested. “Igor, you should have discussed it with me!”
“In our family, that’s how it’s done,” Lyudmila Petrovna interjected. “The son lives with his parents. It’s the right way.”
“What family?” Tatiana felt panic rising inside. “Lyudmila Petrovna, we’re adults. We need our own space.”
“Nonsense!” the mother-in-law waved her off. “There’s room enough for everyone. I have a three-room apartment.”
“Mom’s right,” Igor backed her up. “Why the extra expense? It’s convenient here, quiet.”
Tatiana looked at her husband and didn’t recognize him. This was not the man with whom she had planned a shared life, Sunday walks, joint decisions. This was a stranger making important decisions without her.
“Igor, I don’t want to live here,” Tatiana said firmly. “We need to talk in private.”
“About what?” her husband shrugged. “It’s already decided. Mom is alone; she needs help around the house. And you’re part of our family now.”
“Exactly!” the mother-in-law rejoiced. “Tanyechka, dear, you’ll help me now. I’m not young anymore; I don’t have the strength I used to. And you two are young and energetic.”
“Help with what?” Tatiana asked warily.
“Well, with everything! Cooking, cleaning, laundry. I have arthritis; it’s become hard to manage.”
“Lyudmila Petrovna, but I have a job. I can’t sit at home all day.”
“A job?” the mother-in-law was surprised. “What do you need a job for? Igor earns enough for everyone. A wife should run the household and take care of her husband.”
“Mom’s right,” Igor agreed. “Tanya, submit your resignation. What do you need all that clerical fuss for? Better to focus on the family.”
Tatiana froze, blinking at what she’d heard. In a single evening her life was supposed to change completely—new housing, quitting her job, the role of housemaid.
“No,” the young woman said quietly. “I won’t agree to this.”
“What do you mean you won’t agree?” Lyudmila Petrovna didn’t understand.
“I won’t live here and I won’t quit,” Tatiana repeated louder. “Igor, we need to get back to our plans.”
“What plans?” her husband asked irritably. “Tanya, don’t be childish. You’re a married woman now; it’s time to grow up.”
“Grow up?” Blood rushed to Tatiana’s face, betraying the indignation she was barely holding back. “Igor, adults make decisions together!”
“In a family the man makes the decisions,” declared Lyudmila Petrovna. “And the wife obeys. That’s how it’s always been.”
“Not always!” Tatiana exclaimed. “And not in my family!”
“In our family it is,” Igor said coldly. “Tanya, enough hysterics. You’ll get used to it.”
“I won’t get used to it!” Tatiana felt tears spring to her eyes. “I’m not going to become your servant!”
“Servant?” the mother-in-law bristled. “What servant? You’re a daughter-in-law! A helper! That’s your duty!”
“My duty?” Tatiana repeated. “And where is my choice? Where are my rights?”
“Rights?” Igor laughed. “Tanya, what rights are you talking about? You’re my wife. Your duty is to take care of the family.”
“You mean your mother!”
“Our family!” her husband raised his voice. “Mom raised me, accepted you like a daughter; now it’s our turn to care for her!”
“Let the one she gave birth to take care of her!” Tatiana shouted. “I didn’t sign up for this!”
“You did!” Igor shot back. “You signed at the registry office! In marriage the wife is obliged to obey her husband!”
Tatiana looked at the man she had stood beside at the altar that very morning and didn’t recognize him. Where had the gentle, attentive fiancé gone—the one who brought flowers and read poetry? In his place stood a stranger demanding complete submission.
“Igor,” Tatiana said, trying to keep her voice steady, “I want to talk to you alone.”
“What is there to talk about?” her husband brushed her off. “It’s clear. Tomorrow you go to work and write your resignation. The day after, you start helping Mom.”
“I will not do that!” Tatiana burst out. “Do you hear me? I won’t!”
“You will!” Igor shouted, grabbing his wife by the hand. “And stop making scenes!”
“Let me go!” Tatiana tried to pull free.
“I won’t!” Igor dragged his wife toward the hallway. “You’ll go to the room and think about your behavior!”
“What room?” Tatiana didn’t understand.
“I cleared out the back room just for you!” Lyudmila Petrovna shouted.
Igor forced his wife into a small room with a single window. There stood an old sofa, a nightstand, and a Soviet-era wardrobe. On the windowsill, violets in plastic pots were withering.
“Forget about your freedom—you live by our rules now!” the husband declared, closing the bedroom door.
Tatiana heard the click of the lock and rushed to the door.
“Igor!” the young woman pounded her fists against it. “Open up! You can’t lock me in!”
“I can!” came her husband’s voice from behind the door. “You’ll sit and think. We’ll talk in the morning when you’ve calmed down.”
“I am calm!” Tatiana shouted. “Igor, open the door!”
But silence fell on the other side. Tatiana tugged at the handle, shoved the door with her shoulder, but the lock held. Her husband had really locked her in like a disobedient child.
The young woman sank onto the edge of the sofa and looked at her hands. A wedding ring glinted on her ring finger—a symbol of love that now felt like shackles. The white dress that had made her feel like a princess in the morning now weighed on her like a shroud.
“How did this happen?” Tatiana whispered, gazing out at the nighttime city. “Where did I go wrong?”
In a year and a half of dating, Igor had never shown authoritarian tendencies. It was true he was very attached to his mother, often visited her, consulted her about little things. But Tatiana took that as a sign of care. Lyudmila Petrovna had also seemed like a sweet elderly woman who baked pies and knitted socks.
And now it turned out that all this time a completely different person had been beside her. Someone who considered his wife his property and her opinion—a childish whim. Someone capable of deceiving, locking her up, and breaking another person’s life for the sake of his own comfort.
Tatiana got up and went to the window. The streetlights were on outside; a few passersby were hurrying home to their families. And she sat locked up in a stranger’s apartment, in a room assigned to her without her consent.
“No,” she said to her reflection in the window glass. “I won’t stay here.”
All night the young woman sat on the windowsill, staring at the stars and thinking through the situation. The tears had long since dried; cold resolve had replaced despair. Whatever her husband and mother-in-law had planned, she would not let herself be turned into a household slave.
It gradually grew light outside. Sounds arose in the apartment—someone walked down the hallway, dishes clattered in the kitchen, the radio played. Igor’s family was waking up, getting ready for a new day in which Tatiana was assigned the role of obedient maid.
At seven in the morning a key turned in the lock. The door opened, and there stood Lyudmila Petrovna with a tray in her hands.
“Good morning, dear,” the mother-in-law said cheerfully. “I brought breakfast. How did you sleep?”
“I didn’t,” Tatiana answered curtly.
“That’s just because it’s new,” the mother-in-law nodded understandingly. “You’ll get used to it—you’ll sleep like a baby. You’ll see.”
“I’m not going to get used to it.”
“Oh now, Tanya,” the mother-in-law laughed. “Where would you go? You’re married now; it’s time to have children. Igor wants kids very much. But first you need to learn to run a household. I’ll teach you everything.”
“Lyudmila Petrovna,” Tatiana rose from the sofa, “I want to talk to Igor.”
“Igor has gone to work. He didn’t want to wake you—said, let her rest. You’ll talk in the evening.”
“Then I’m going home.”
“What home?” the mother-in-law didn’t understand. “You are home.”
“This is not my home,” Tatiana said firmly. “And it never will be.”
Lyudmila Petrovna set the tray on the nightstand and looked closely at her daughter-in-law.
“Tanyechka, I understand this is unfamiliar. But you’re a smart girl. You’ll realize this is better for everyone.”
“Better for whom? For you?”
“For the family!” the mother-in-law protested. “Igor will be at peace knowing you’re under supervision. I won’t be lonely. And you’ll become a true homemaker.”
“I don’t want to be a homemaker in someone else’s home.”
“Not someone else’s! A family home!” Lyudmila Petrovna took Tatiana’s hands. “Child, I know it feels like we’re forcing you. But in a month or two you’ll see how good it is here. No responsibility, no problems. Igor earns, I provide experience, and you just live and enjoy.”
“Enjoy what? Being a prisoner?”
“What prisoner!” the mother-in-law laughed. “You’re a daughter-in-law in a good family! Many girls dream of this!”
Tatiana pulled her hands free and stepped away.
“Not all, Lyudmila Petrovna. Not all.”
“Well then, if you don’t want breakfast, don’t,” the older woman said, offended. “And I made an omelet… I’ll go unpack. I cleared space in the wardrobe—you can put your things away.”
Lyudmila Petrovna left, leaving the door open. Tatiana waited a few minutes, listening to the sounds of the apartment. Her mother-in-law was bustling in the kitchen, washing something, banging pots.
The young woman slipped quietly into the entryway. Her shoes stood next to the household’s footwear. Her wedding purse lay on the console—her documents and some cash should be inside.
“Where are you off to?” came Lyudmila Petrovna’s voice.
Tatiana turned. The mother-in-law stood in the kitchen doorway with wet hands and a suspicious look.
“Outside. For a walk.”
“In a wedding dress?” Lyudmila Petrovna was surprised.
“Why not?”
“You can, of course, but it’s a bit odd. People will stare.”
“Let them stare,” Tatiana shrugged, putting on her shoes.
“Tanya, maybe change clothes first? You have things here.”
“I don’t want to,” the girl said, eager to leave quickly.
Tatiana took her purse and headed for the door.
“Don’t go far!” her mother-in-law called after her. “Be back by lunch; I’m making soup!”
“All right,” Tatiana lied, and stepped out of the apartment.
It was chilly outside. People really did turn to look at the girl in a wedding dress walking alone down the sidewalk. Some smiled, thinking it must be a post-wedding photo shoot.
Tatiana got on the first bus that came and rode to the city center. In her purse lay her passport and the marriage certificate she’d received yesterday. A document that was supposed to be a symbol of happiness now seemed like a slip of paper about a mistake.
The registry office was in an old building with columns. Holding up her train, Tatiana climbed the steps and entered the familiar hall. Yesterday solemn music had played here; today it was quiet and routine.
“Miss, are you here to see us?” an elderly clerk asked in surprise when she saw the bride.
“Yes. I need to file for divorce.”
“Divorce?” The woman took off her glasses and wiped them. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
“I want to divorce my husband,” Tatiana repeated.
“But you’re… in a wedding dress…”
“We registered here yesterday. Today I want to dissolve the marriage.”
The clerk looked helplessly at her colleagues. At the neighboring desk they stopped working too, unable to believe what was happening.
“Miss,” the woman said gently, “perhaps you’ve had a quarrel? That happens in the first days. Don’t act in the heat of the moment…”
“I’m not acting in the heat of the moment,” Tatiana interrupted. “I’ve thought it through. The marriage was entered into under false pretenses.”
“In what sense?”
“My husband hid his plans for our life together. I only learned of them last night.”
Tatiana took the documents from her purse and placed them on the desk.
“Please accept my application. I want to terminate this marriage as soon as possible.”
“You don’t have children, joint property?”
“Nothing. Only a mistake that needs correcting.”
The clerk looked at the documents, then at the young woman’s resolute face.
“All right. You can submit the application. But there is a one-month reconciliation period…”
“There will be no reconciliation,” Tatiana said firmly. “You can be sure of that.”
“Then fill out the form. Sign here, and the date here…”
Tatiana filled out the application carefully, trying not to smudge the white dress with ink. Each letter was a small victory over deception, each signature a step toward freedom.
“Done,” the young woman said, handing back the papers.
“Come back in a month with your husband. If he doesn’t appear, we’ll finalize the divorce in absentia.”
“Thank you.”
Tatiana stepped out of the registry office and took a deep breath. The air seemed cleaner, and the sun brighter. The future was unknown, but it was her own unknown, not someone else’s cage.
At the bus stop an elderly woman approached.
“Daughter, what happened?” the stranger asked kindly. “Did the wedding fall through?”
“On the contrary,” Tatiana smiled. “A new life has begun.”
The woman looked at her in puzzlement, but the bus pulled up, and there was no need to explain. Tatiana sat by the window and watched the city glide past the glass. Somewhere back there lay deceived hopes and shattered plans. But somewhere there, too, real life awaited—life with freedom of choice, the right to one’s own opinion, and the chance to build a future independently.
And she decided to keep the white dress—as a reminder that even the most beautiful wrapping can conceal a bitter lie. And as a symbol that there is a way out of any cage if you don’t give up and fight for your freedom.
