The door slammed so sharply that Polina flinched and dropped the towel. Margarita Semyonovna—her mother-in-law—burst into the hallway, a loud, emotional woman who was convinced the world revolved around her opinion.
“Where is he?” she blurted from the doorway. “Where’s your lover?”
Polina stood in the middle of the hall in a house dress, her hair still wet from the shower, looking more stunned than if a UFO had landed in front of her.
“Who?” she asked, confused. “Margarita Semyonovna, what are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb, I know everything!” her mother-in-law marched right past her, checking the rooms as if she had a search warrant. “You’ve got a man here! In your apartment! While my son is off on business trips!”
Polina closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She knew this week would be hard. Eduard had been gone only three days, and his mother had already turned it into a theater of suspicions, inspections, and insinuations.
But this time it went further than usual.
Margarita Semyonovna stopped at the kitchen door, dramatically lifted her chin, and shouted:
“Aha! There he is! I see him!”
Polina rolled her eyes. She knew a storm was coming. And the storm did come…
Just a week earlier, the three of them had been sitting in the kitchen—Polina, Eduard, and Margarita Semyonovna. Back then, the atmosphere had seemed almost peaceful.
“Edik, sweetheart,” Margarita said after taking a sip of tea. “You’re too naive. Take a closer look at Darya. She’s the right kind of girl. From a good family. You grew up together.”
Polina tensed almost imperceptibly.
Eduard sighed.
“Mom, I’m married.”
“So what? No one is telling you to cheat. Get a divorce and marry Dasha. What’s so complicated?”
Polina quietly set her cup down on the table.
“Margarita Semyonovna, excuse me, but are you serious right now?”
“Absolutely. You’re a good girl, Polina, but… too proper, too perfect. That makes me suspicious.”
Eduard covered his face with his hands.
“Mom, please. This is nonsense. I love Polina, period.”
But his mother-in-law was already picking up speed:
“I know women. I can feel it in my gut—she’s hiding something. And I’ll expose her.”
Polina kept silent. She’d learned a long time ago: the more you react, the worse it gets.
But soon it became clear—her mother-in-law really was planning something.
On the day Eduard left, Polina scrubbed the apartment until it gleamed—not because she was “waiting for lovers,” but because she understood perfectly well: Margarita would show up the very first day.
And she did.
Her mother-in-law walked in, ran a finger over the table like a strict teacher.
“Aha. Spotless. Who are we expecting?”
Polina smirked.
“No one. I’m living like I always do.”
“Uh-huh. Women don’t try this hard for no reason. Especially when the husband is away.”
“I just like things clean.”
“Or you’re waiting for someone.”
“Oh Lord, who?” Polina gave a tired smile. “I’ve never had anyone but Edik.”
But her mother-in-law was deaf to logic.
And soon she arranged a second “inspection.”
A couple days later she brought over… that very Dasha—the “ideal candidate” she had been pushing on her son.
Dasha walked in and smiled shyly.
“Hello… Polina?”
“Nice to meet you,” Polina replied, fighting the urge to throw them both out.
Meanwhile, her mother-in-law beamed.
“Dasha is Edik’s best friend from childhood. Smart, beautiful, domestic! And this is Polina. Well… my son’s temporary wife.”
Polina took a deep breath.
But then something happened that Margarita absolutely hadn’t expected.
She failed to pit the women against each other.
Over tea, Dasha said warmly:
“Your home is so cozy. And the pie is amazing. Really.”
Polina smiled.
“Thank you. Do you take photos often? I saw your camera.”
“Oh, yes! I’m a photographer.”
“I was into that too when I was a student.”
They quickly found common ground—laughing, talking about travel, cameras, shooting, lighting…
Margarita sat there with a sour face.
“I don’t believe she’s that perfect…”
And she kept waiting for a moment to prove otherwise.
The next day Margarita got a call from a neighbor—one of those drama lovers.
“Rita, are you sitting down?”
“I am. What happened?”
“I saw a man go into Polina’s place. A real man—older, around forty. They were walking together. I saw it with my own eyes.”
“What?!”
“And it wasn’t just me. All the neighbors saw.”
Margarita flared up like a match.
“Eduard is coming back today… Polina is going to be in for a surprise.”
“Get ready, Ritочка. It’s—”
Margarita didn’t listen to the rest. Five minutes later she was in a taxi, urging the driver on:
“Faster, please! This is very important.”
She wanted one thing: to catch her daughter-in-law in the act of betrayal and open her son’s eyes.
“I’ll give her what for,” she muttered under her breath. “How long am I supposed to put up with that angel mask?”
She stormed into the apartment like a hurricane.
“Where is he?!” she screamed so loudly the walls seemed to tremble. “Come out, you scumbag!”
Polina stood calmly—almost too calmly.
“Margarita Semyonovna, please stop. You’re mistaken.”
“Mistaken?” her mother-in-law snorted. “We’re about to find out!”
She yanked open the kitchen door—and really did see a man there, about thirty-five.
He looked up from his cup of tea.
“Um… hello.”
“Oh, so this is you!” Margarita shrieked. “While my son is off on business trips, you’re with his wife—”
“Margarita Semyonovna!” Polina raised her voice for the first time. “This is not what you think!”
“Of course! He’s a plumber, right? Or an electrician? Or a childhood friend?”
“Well… almost. Take a breath and—”
But her mother-in-law wouldn’t listen.
And then—right on cue—the doorbell rang.
Eduard.
He barely stepped inside when his mother lunged at him.
“Son! I saw everything! She betrayed you!”
Eduard frowned.
“Mom, what are you talking about?”
He walked into the kitchen and saw the man.
And suddenly he broke into a wide smile.
“Stas! When did you get here? I haven’t seen you in ages!”
His mother froze.
“Stas? You… know him?”
“Of course! He’s Polina’s cousin. He couldn’t make it to the wedding, remember?”
Margarita opened her mouth, but somehow the words ran out.
Dasha came out of the room.
“We all met here,” she said cheerfully. “Stas showed us his photos from Peru. He shoots beautifully!”
Margarita turned to Polina, slowly processing it all.
“So… you invited Dasha yourself?”
Polina nodded.
“I liked her. I wanted to introduce her to my cousin. Maybe something will come of it.”
Stas looked embarrassed but smiled at Dasha. The light in his eyes said plenty.
Margarita’s hands dropped.
Her “exposé” had turned into a fiasco.
Polina stepped closer.
“Margarita Semyonovna, would you like some tea?”
“No… I… I think I’ll go.”
She left almost at a run, slamming the door behind her.
Cold air hit her face as she stepped out of the building. Her heart was pounding as if she’d just run a marathon.
She was ashamed. Very. But admitting she’d been wrong wasn’t in her nature.
And then she spotted that very neighbor—the one who had “seen” the man.
Margarita narrowed her eyes.
“Larisa. Come here.”
The neighbor approached, looking guilty.
“Larisa,” Margarita said softly but harshly, “next time, before you spread gossip, check the facts. You set me up.”
“But I… I thought…”
“That’s exactly it—you thought. You need to know.”
Larisa went pale.
Margarita turned and walked away.
She was still boiling—just not at Polina anymore.
And deep down, a thought stirred:
“Could Polina really be that… perfect? Too perfect? No. That can’t be. I’ll still find a flaw. It’s there somewhere. It has to be!”
But watching her intrigues collapse in a single second, even she understood:
Polina was far wiser than her mother-in-law had assumed.
And maybe… she really was right for her son.
Though she wasn’t ready to admit that out loud yet
