Alina sat at a massive oak table covered with countless fabric swatches. She smoothed each piece carefully with her palm, lifted it to the light, and studied the way the silk or satin shimmered. A smile glowed on her face—inside every scrap she could already see a piece of the future, her celebration, her dream.
“Oleg, look how beautifully this pearl satin catches the light!” she said with delight, turning to her fiancé. “It’s delicate, but it has something special. A dress made from it will be pure magic—like it was made for me.”
Oleg sat in the armchair across from her with one leg crossed over the other. A phone was in his hands, its screen casting a bluish glow on his face. He tore his eyes away from his messages for only a moment and glanced at the fabric as if he weren’t looking at a wedding choice, but at wallpaper in a stranger’s apartment.
“Yeah, it’s nice,” he said indifferently, and returned to his phone.
Alina frowned. She was used to her fiancé being lost in his own thoughts, but today she expected more involvement from him. After all, this was her wedding dress!
She was about to joke that she’d have to choose the fabric without his opinion when Oleg suddenly set the phone down on the table, straightened up, and looked directly at her.
“We need to talk about something,” he said in an unexpectedly stern tone. “About the seating arrangement.”
Alina lifted her eyebrows in surprise.
“But we already decided. The parents at the head table, the witnesses next to them, and friends and relatives wherever they’re comfortable. What’s the problem?”
Oleg paused, as if gathering his strength, and said:
“At our wedding, I’ll be sitting next to my mom and my grandmother.”
At first Alina even laughed.
“Wait… are you serious right now? You and I are supposed to sit together—it’s our day!”
Oleg didn’t smile. His face turned severe, almost official.
“I’m not joking. My mom and my grandmother are the closest people in my life. They deserve to have me by their side on that day.”
The smile slipped off Alina’s face. She suddenly felt the light anticipation in her chest change into something heavy and oppressive, as if an invisible tension had appeared in the air.
First confusion
“So… you’re saying you and I won’t sit next to each other?” Alina asked cautiously, hoping she’d misheard.
“Exactly,” Oleg confirmed. “You’ll sit with your parents, and I’ll sit with mine. Isn’t that fair?”
Alina clenched a piece of fabric so tightly it almost tore.
“But it’s our wedding, Oleg! We should sit together because we’re the ones starting a family. The parents are our dearest guests, but we should be the center of attention.”
“You’re overcomplicating everything,” he cut her off. “Mom and Grandma raised me by themselves. They devoted their lives to me. And if I don’t show them on that day that I value them above all else, they’ll feel left out.”
Alina slowly sank onto the chair, her eyes widening.
“But how will that look? Imagine it: the guests will see the groom sitting with his mother and grandmother instead of with the bride. Everyone will think we have problems. Don’t you realize how insulting that is?”
“I don’t care what people think,” Oleg answered calmly. “Family is what matters to me. Real family.”
“Then who am I?” escaped her lips.
Oleg was silent for a moment, looking at her with a gentle, condescending smile.
“You’re going to be part of my family. But Mom and Grandma will always come first. That’s an undeniable truth, Alina. Accept it and don’t put on a show.”
The words dropped into the silence like heavy stones. Alina’s chest tightened. She understood it wasn’t about “seating” at all—it was about something far more significant. The man in front of her had already decided what her place would be—and it definitely wasn’t beside him.
Disagreement
Alina stared at Oleg, unable to find the words. First she thought he was joking. Then she thought it was a passing whim. But the calmer and more certain he sounded, the more she felt as if the ground were slipping out from under her feet.
“Oleg,” she finally said quietly but firmly, “a wedding isn’t just a celebration for relatives. It’s a symbol that we’re together. We should be next to each other because we are the center of that day.”
Oleg frowned; his eyes darkened.
“You don’t understand. It’s my duty. Mom and Grandma gave me everything. I can’t shove them into a corner.”
“A corner?!” Alina raised her voice, for the first time letting her emotions burst out. “You call the places of honor next to us a ‘corner’? Are you serious?”
Oleg pressed his lips into a thin line.
“You’re exaggerating. Look at it rationally. You have your parents, I have mine. Each of us will be with our family. That’s fair.”
“No!” Alina interrupted, slamming her palm on the table so the fabric samples shifted. “It’s not fair! You and I are creating a new family. ‘You and me’—that’s who should sit together. Parents are the closest, but they should be slightly to the side, because we’re already a separate whole. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be?”
He snorted, leaning back in his chair.
“You talk красиво, but it’s too theoretical. In practice it’s different. The closest people in my life have always been Mom and Grandma, and on my wedding day I’m not going to disappoint their hopes.”
Alina threw up her hands as if surrendering.
“Oleg, do you realize that from the outside it will look like you abandoned your bride for your mother?”
“What does it matter what people think?” he snapped. “I decide who comes first.”
Inside Alina, everything froze. The word “first” echoed painfully in her heart. She felt that in his picture of the world there simply wasn’t a place for her beside him—only beside her own parents, in a supporting role.
Dismissing her feelings
A heavy pause hung in the air. In the living room the only sounds were the ticking of the clock and the faint creak of wood in the furniture.
Oleg spoke again, softer now, as if explaining obvious things to a child:
“Alina, sweetheart, you have to understand. Mom and Grandma are a part of me. They have always been and always will be in first place. That’s not up for discussion.”
Alina looked up at him, eyes full of disbelief.
“First place?.. And where am I then?”
He shrugged.
“Second. But that doesn’t mean you’re less important. You just don’t need to make jealous scenes. I thought you were a grown woman who can understand things like this. But you’re acting… like a little girl.”
Those words hit harder than any reproach. “Second place.” “Jealousy.” “Little girl.” Everything she had been building in her mind—shared future, home, family—suddenly became something trivial next to his “undeniable truth.”
Alina whispered, hardly believing herself:
“Do you… think I’m jealous of your mother?”
“Who else would you be jealous of?” he smirked wearily. “You’re jealous of my own family. But trust me, you have nothing to worry about. We have a special bond. And no woman can destroy it.”
Alina’s heart clenched painfully. Suddenly she saw it all with perfect clarity: he wasn’t going to build a new family—he only wanted to fit her into the old one, into a place that had been assigned in advance. A place where her love would never be the most important.
At that moment the lamplight fell directly onto the ring on her finger. The stone flashed with a cold fire, and for the first time Alina felt it wasn’t a symbol of happiness, but a symbol of her own illusions.
She lowered her eyes to the sparkling cubic zirconia and understood: if she stayed, she would spend her whole life fighting for second place.
The decision
Alina rose slowly from the chair. Inside her there was silence—but not the calm silence before sleep, rather a ringing silence that comes when something important collapses.
She reached for the ring, stared at it for a few seconds as if saying goodbye, and smoothly slid it off her finger. The metal touched her skin coldly, then landed on the table beside the shimmering strip of pearl satin.
“Then I won’t be that ‘someone’ who gets in the way of your close bond,” Alina said calmly, almost without emotion. “I’m not going to spend my whole life proving my right to be by your side.”
Oleg stared at the ring, then at her. His self-confidence wavered.
“Alina… are you serious? Over something so trivial? Don’t you understand all this is just insignificant details?”
She shook her head.
“No, Oleg. It’s not a trifle. It’s the foundation. You just said I will never come first for you. I heard every word.”
He stood up from the chair, stepped toward her, and stretched out his hand as if to stop her.
“Wait, you’re ruining everything! This is your emotions, it’s irrational. Let me think—let’s talk it through again!”
Alina stepped back, avoiding his touch.
“There’s nothing to talk through. You made your choice. And I made mine.”
“But we’ve been preparing for months!” he exclaimed, his voice trembling. “We already have the venue, the dress, the invitations… You can’t destroy everything like this—over where people sit!”
“This isn’t about the seating,” she said firmly. “It’s about us. You said I’ll always be second. And I’m not going to live like that.”
She looked him straight in the eyes, and in that moment a silence filled with the understanding of an ending swept between them.
“Goodbye, Oleg,” she added softly and walked to the door.
Her steps were heavy, but steady. Her chest burned, but there were no tears. She knew that if she cried now, she would give him a reason to call her an “emotional little girl” again.
Alina didn’t look back. She had already crossed that invisible line beyond which there is no return.
The final choice
She stepped out into the hallway, opened the front door, and drew in a deep breath of cool air. Outside it smelled of the night street—freshness and freedom. Only then did she realize how heavy the atmosphere had been in that living room, where an argument had turned into a verdict.
Behind her came the hurried sound of footsteps, but it stopped abruptly. A second later the silence was broken by the sharp tapping of dialing and Oleg’s muffled voice.
“Mom? Yeah, it’s me… Listen, you won’t believe what Alina pulled… Yeah, because of the seating. I said I’d sit with you… yeah, with Grandma too. She freaked out and took off the ring… No, I didn’t give in. I stood my ground. Can you imagine? She broke off the engagement!”
Alina froze on the landing, listening through the half-open door. His voice sounded embarrassed, but beneath it she could still hear resentment and an attempt to stay confident.
From the receiver came his mother’s soothing, almost cheerful voice:
“Calm down, son. She just doesn’t understand our principles. She doesn’t suit you. Grandma and I will always be close. We are your true family.”
Alina took a deep breath, stepped outside, and slammed the door behind her. She didn’t want to hear another word.
Inside the apartment, Oleg dropped back into the chair and stared for a long time at the ring left on the table, as if it reproached him with its silence. He nodded into the phone, agreed with his mother’s words, and tried to believe that everything really was right.
But somewhere deep inside, beneath all the layers of certainty, a question was born—one he didn’t dare say out loud:
“And who will be there when they’re gone?”
He didn’t find an answer. And he didn’t look for one—because his choice had already been made.
And Alina, walking down the empty street, for the first time in a long while felt she had done the right thing. Painful, bitter—but right
