“Anastasia, are you coming over today? My stove is acting up, the hood isn’t working, and I’m having people over tomorrow,” Olga Dmitrievna said into the phone in a tone so demanding it sounded as if she were speaking to an employee, not her daughter-in-law.
Nastya glanced at the clock. It was already a quarter to five, and piles of paperwork still covered her desk. A new executive was expected at the company, and every department had been ordered to prepare reports for the previous quarter. As head of procurement, she was looking at at least three more hours in the office.
“Olga Dmitrievna, I really can’t today. We’re in the middle of a work emergency,” Nastya replied, doing her best to stay calm even though irritation was already boiling inside her.
“What do you mean, you can’t?” her mother-in-law snapped. “I was counting on you! I already had groceries bought, everything is sitting in the kitchen. My back hurts, I can’t stand for long.”
“I’m at work, do you understand? I have an important project,” Nastya said, tightening her grip on the phone. “I can’t just drop everything and drive across the city to cook dinner for you.”
“Everyone has work, Anastasia!” Olga shot back. “But you’re a woman. You’re my son’s wife. You have responsibilities to the family.”
Nastya took a deep breath, trying to keep control of herself.
“I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to come. Not today, and not tomorrow either. I simply have too much work.”
“What disrespect toward your elders!” Olga Dmitrievna’s voice trembled with outrage. “I’m calling Roma. Let him talk to you!”
Nastya was already about to say something sharp, but she bit her tongue just in time and ended the call instead.
A minute later, her phone rang again. Her husband.
With a tired sigh, she answered.
“Yes, Roma.”
“Nastya, did you upset Mom?” he began without even saying hello. “She called me in tears. Says you were rude to her and refused to help.”
“I wasn’t rude,” Nastya replied quietly, trying not to let her coworkers overhear. “I simply told her I can’t come over today and cook for her guests. I’m at work, Roma. A new director is coming, and we have to finish all the reports.”
“Fine, work, I get it,” he said, his tone softening a little. “But you could have refused more gently. You know Mom gets upset easily.”
“So it’s fine if I get upset?” Nastya snapped. “For three weeks now your mother has been demanding that I go over there after work to cook, clean, and do laundry. Do I not have a life of my own?”
“Nastya, don’t exaggerate. Mom just asks for help now and then…”
“Now and then?” she cut in. “Roma, she calls every single day. She expects me to come over three times a week. When am I supposed to live? When do I rest? When do I take care of our own home?”
Silence hung on the line for a moment. Then Roma sighed.
“I understand you’re tired. But try to understand Mom too. It’s hard for her to manage on her own.”
“And what exactly is your father there for? Can’t he help his own wife?”
“Dad works…”
“So do I, Roma!” Nastya raised her voice now. “Tell your mother to hire a cook if she doesn’t want to make dinner herself, and leave me out of it!”
She hung up and dropped the phone hard onto the desk.
Her colleagues pretended not to notice, but Veronika Igorevna, who sat nearby, gave her a sympathetic look.
“Family trouble?” she asked softly.
“My mother-in-law,” Nastya answered shortly, turning back to her paperwork.
“My condolences,” Veronika said with a knowing nod. “I had my share of issues with mine too. We somehow learned to coexist over time.”
“And how did you manage that?” Nastya asked, suddenly hopeful.
“My husband stepped up and took my side in time,” Veronika said with a faint smile. “That’s the key. If a man chooses his mother over his wife, the marriage is doomed.”
Nastya nodded and returned to her work, but thoughts of the conversation waiting for her at home made it impossible to focus.
That evening, when she finally got back, an unpleasant surprise was waiting for her. Roma was sitting in the kitchen with a stone-cold expression and was clearly in a bad mood.
“Hi,” Nastya said wearily, setting her bag on a chair. “Have you eaten?”
“I’m not thinking about dinner,” he said coldly. “Mom called all day complaining. She says you’ve become completely impossible. That you’re rude and refuse to help.”
“What?” Nastya froze mid-step. “I’m the impossible one? Your mother has completely crossed the line! She gives me orders like I’m her maid!”
“Don’t you dare talk about my mother like that!” Roma shouted. “She’s just asking for help, and you’re acting… badly.”
“She’s not asking, she’s demanding!” Nastya fired back. “And where were you last Thursday when she called me seven times in one day? Seven times, Roma. And every time it was another task. Iron the curtains. Water the flowers. Make soup.”
“So what?” he said. “You don’t work late every single day anyway.”
“I work! Maybe not late every day, but after work I want to rest, not drive across the city to wash your mother’s laundry!”
Roma stood up from the table.
“That’s exactly what you’re like, Nastya. You only think about yourself. The second it comes to caring for someone else, you’re full of excuses.”
She stared at him in disbelief.
“I only think about myself? Me? I work from morning till night so we can have a decent life. I pay half for this apartment. I cook. I clean. And now I’m supposed to serve your parents too?”
“Not serve. Help,” he repeated stubbornly. “Mom has a hard time on her own.”
“And what exactly is stopping your father from helping her?” Nastya flung out a hand. “Or is he untouchable too? So the daughter-in-law is supposed to work like a horse for two households?”
“You’re overreacting,” Roma said, grimacing. “Dad is at work all day.”
“And where exactly do you think I am?”
He pressed his lips together.
“That’s different.”
“Why is it different?” she demanded. “Because I’m a woman? Well listen carefully: I was not hired to be your mother’s housemaid. I’m your wife, not your family’s servant.”
“Nastya, calm down,” Roma said, trying to put his hands on her shoulders, but she pulled away.
“No, you listen. Either you set your mother straight, or I will. And if I do, nobody’s going to like the outcome.”
She went into the bedroom and slammed the door behind her.
That evening was ruined beyond repair.
“Nikolai, can you believe what that girl pulled?” Olga Dmitrievna stormed back and forth around the living room, gesturing wildly. “She refused to come! And I have guests tomorrow. Valentina and her husband are coming.”
Nikolai Alexandrovich sat in his chair, watching his wife with mild concern.
“Olya, maybe she really does have work,” he said carefully. “Young people spend a lot of time at work these days.”
“What work?” Olga waved him off. “She sits in that office shuffling papers. At home she does nothing but stare at her phone. They hardly even visit us.”
“Well, to be fair, they were here last weekend,” he reminded her.
“And what good did that do? They came for two hours, drank tea, and left. No respect for elders at all!” She stopped in the middle of the room. “At her age, I used to run to your mother the moment she called. I helped with everything. But this one… and she has the nerve to snap back.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t push the girl so hard,” Nikolai suggested carefully. “They’re young. They have their own life.”
“And that,” Olga said sharply, “is exactly why children grow up selfish now. Nobody wants to help their parents. Everyone thinks only of themselves. And after all I’ve done for Roma. I gave him my whole life.”
Nikolai sighed. Arguing with his wife was pointless. She always believed she was right. But something told him this situation was far from black and white.
“Maybe we should interfere less in their lives,” he tried once more. “Let them figure out how to live on their own.”
“If I’d listened to people like you,” Olga snapped, “our son would still be walking around in unwashed shirts and living on frozen food. That Nastya has no idea how to run a household!”
“As I recall, when we were at their place, the apartment was clean and dinner was delicious,” Nikolai pointed out.
“Oh please, they probably ordered it from a restaurant,” she scoffed. “That’s what everyone does now. Nobody wants to cook real homemade food anymore.”
Nikolai sighed again and picked up his newspaper. There was no point continuing. She would never change her mind.
The next day, the office where Nastya worked was buzzing with unusual energy. The new deputy director was arriving, and everyone was doing their best to make a good impression.
“Barsukova, are your reports ready?” the department head asked, stepping into her office.
“Yes, Ivan Petrovich, everything’s ready,” Nastya said, handing him a folder. “Analysis of procurement over the last three quarters and a forecast for the next one.”
“Excellent,” he nodded. “Solovyov will be at the general meeting in an hour. They say he’s very demanding.”
“Don’t worry. Everything is in order,” she assured him.
When he left, Veronika came over.
“Nastya, how are you? Did you and your husband make peace last night?”
Nastya shook her head.
“Not even close. He’s completely on his mother’s side. He thinks I should go over there regularly and help around the house, even though I already have more than enough to deal with.”
“Men,” Veronika sighed. “They often don’t understand how exhausting it is to work a full day and then run a household too. And on top of that, you’re being loaded with a second home.”
“Exactly,” Nastya nodded. “And the worst part is that my mother-in-law keeps doing everything she can to turn Roma against me. Yesterday she told him I was rude, ungrateful, unwilling to help…”
“Sounds familiar,” Veronika said, shaking her head. “My mother-in-law did the same thing in the early years. Kept telling my husband what a terrible housekeeper I was.”
“And what changed?”
“My husband finally realized his mother was manipulating him. That was the turning point,” Veronika said with a smile. “By the way, did you know my husband works at the same company as your father-in-law?”
“Really?” Nastya looked surprised. “Nikolai Alexandrovich never mentioned him.”
“Not surprising. Your father-in-law is a man of few words. But my Sergey says he’s a very decent and fair manager. Not like his wife…”
“You know Olga Dmitrievna?” Nastya asked, even more surprised.
“Met her a couple of times at corporate events. Let’s just say stories about her personality are legendary in the company,” Veronika said, raising an eyebrow. “They say even the director is wary of her.”
Nastya wanted to ask more, but just then the meeting was announced.
The conference room was crowded. The new deputy director, Viktor Andreevich Solovyov, was a fit man in his forties with a keen, attentive gaze. He introduced himself, briefly outlined his experience, and then moved on to current company projects.
When it came time for the procurement department, Nastya’s boss introduced her project on optimizing supply flows. She presented her ideas clearly and directly. Viktor Andreevich listened closely, asked sharp questions, and seemed pleased with her answers.
“Interesting approach,” he said at the end. “This could save the company a significant amount of money if implemented correctly. Barsukova, I want you to lead the project team responsible for putting this system into place.”
Nastya couldn’t hide her surprise.
“Me? Usually Ivan Petrovich handles projects like that…”
“This time I’d like to entrust it to you,” Solovyov said firmly. “I like your approach. Come by my office after the meeting and we’ll discuss the details.”
When the meeting ended, Nastya noticed people looking at her with interest and even a little envy. Leading a project team was prestigious and full of opportunity. If the project succeeded, a promotion was almost guaranteed.
“Congratulations,” Veronika whispered as they left the room. “This is your chance.”
Nastya smiled, but worry gnawed at her. The project meant more work, more responsibility, and more hours in the office. How would Roma react? And what would his mother say?
“I don’t understand why you have to stay late,” Roma complained that evening while they ate dinner. “Can’t it all be done during working hours?”
“No, it can’t,” Nastya explained patiently. “This is a serious project, Roma. If I pull it off, I’ll get promoted. We’ll be able to start thinking about buying a car, or even putting down a first payment on a bigger apartment.”
“We’re doing fine as it is,” he shrugged. “Mom says a woman should pay more attention to her family, not to her career.”
“What does your mother have to do with this?” Nastya snapped. “This is my job and my life.”
“Our life,” he corrected. “And Mom doesn’t like that you’ve started visiting us less.”
“Us?” Nastya lifted her brows. “Roma, you’ve lived with me, not your parents, for three years. ‘Us’ is this apartment. You and me.”
“Yes, but my parents are part of our family too,” he said stubbornly. “And you could give them more attention.”
Nastya put down her fork.
“Roma, let’s be honest. Your mother is trying to control our lives. She calls me ten times a day with random errands, demands that I go over there several times a week, and criticizes everything I do.”
“She just wants what’s best,” he began, but Nastya cut him off.
“No. She wants everything done her way. That’s not the same thing. I don’t mind helping your parents occasionally, but I’m not willing to become your mother’s maid.”
“Nobody’s asking you to be a maid,” he argued. “Just to help from time to time.”
“And why should that be my job and not yours?” she asked. “They’re your parents. Why don’t you go help them yourself?”
“I have work,” he said, momentarily thrown off.
“So do I,” she said sharply. “And now I also have a project I worked hard for, one that could seriously move my career forward. But apparently that doesn’t matter to you.”
Roma fell silent, clearly not knowing what to say. Then he sighed.
“Fine. I’ll talk to Mom. I’ll ask her to call you less often.”
“Not less often, Roma. Only when it’s really important,” Nastya corrected him. “And not to demand the impossible. I have my own life, my own job, my own responsibilities. I can’t split myself in two.”
“Okay,” he nodded, though he didn’t look happy about it.
Nastya exhaled. She understood the conversation had solved nothing. Roma was only pretending to agree. Deep down, he still didn’t see anything wrong with his mother’s behavior. Which meant the conflict would continue.
Over the next few weeks, Nastya threw herself into the new project. Viktor Andreevich proved to be a demanding but fair manager who valued initiative and fresh ideas. Under his leadership, Nastya’s professional confidence blossomed.
“Barsukova, your approach to procurement optimization could genuinely save the company a great deal,” Viktor Andreevich told her after one meeting. “Keep going in this direction.”
Nastya glowed with pride. For once, her efforts were being recognized the way they deserved. She came home late, exhausted but satisfied.
Roma, however, didn’t share her enthusiasm. He complained more and more that she was always at work, barely ever home, hardly ever visiting his parents.
“Roma, please understand, this is temporary,” Nastya tried to reassure him. “Once the project is finished, I’ll have more free time.”
“And until then I’m supposed to explain to everyone why my wife can’t make it to a family dinner even once a week?” he said irritably. “Mom says…”
“There it is again, your mother!” Nastya snapped. “Maybe instead of listening to what your mother says, you could start thinking for yourself.”
These conversations usually ended in fights, and the tension between them kept building.
Olga Dmitrievna, of course, never missed a chance to add fuel to the fire. She called Roma nearly every day, complaining about her “ungrateful daughter-in-law” who had “forgotten all family values.”
“And what kind of job is this where she stays out until night?” she asked suspiciously. “Are you sure she’s really at work all that time, son?”
At first Roma brushed off the hints. But slowly, they began to settle in his mind. What if Nastya wasn’t only working? What if there was someone else? That new boss, for example, the one who praised her so much.
One evening, when Nastya was late again, Roma couldn’t hold back any longer and called her.
“Where are you? It’s already after nine!”
“At work, obviously,” she said in surprise. “We’re in a project meeting, revising the supply plan.”
“With whom exactly is ‘we’?”
“With the project team,” Nastya said, growing irritated. “Roma, I really don’t have time to talk right now. We’re in the middle of a discussion.”
“And that Solovyov of yours is there too?”
“Yes, Viktor Andreevich is leading the meeting. Roma, what is this, an interrogation?”
“Nothing. Just asking,” he said coldly and hung up.
Nastya stared at the phone in confusion. What was that? Was he actually jealous? That was absurd. Viktor Andreevich was her boss. Their relationship was strictly professional.
When she came home around ten, she found Roma gloomy and silent.
“What happened?” she asked, taking off her coat.
“Nothing,” he muttered, keeping his eyes on the TV.
“Roma, I can see something’s wrong,” she said, sitting beside him. “Talk to me.”
“What is there to talk about?” He finally turned toward her. “You disappear at work all day, you’re never home, you don’t visit my parents. Maybe you’ve just been feeding us all lies. Maybe you’ve got something else going on.”
“What nonsense is that?” Nastya shot to her feet. “Roma, I’m working on an important project! I’m building a career, do you understand? That matters to me, to us!”
“Or maybe it matters to you and your Solovyov?” he blurted out.
Nastya froze.
“You think I’m having an affair with my boss? Have you lost your mind?”
“What am I supposed to think?” he shouted back. “You come home late, you whisper on the phone, it’s always meetings, work sessions…”
“That’s called work, Roma!” she shouted. “Just because you leave your office at five and stop thinking about it doesn’t mean everyone else does!”
“Don’t you dare belittle my job!”
“And don’t you dare accuse me of cheating just because I’m making progress in my career!” she shot back. “Although I know exactly where this came from. Your mother, right? She filled your head with this garbage.”
Roma looked away, and Nastya instantly knew she was right.
“So that’s it,” she said bitterly. “She told you I’m off having fun somewhere instead of working, and you were happy to believe her.”
“Mom is just worried…”
“Your mother is trying to destroy our marriage!” Nastya grabbed her bag. “And you know what? She’s almost succeeded. I’m not going to live with a man who trusts his mommy more than his own wife.”
She quickly packed a few essentials and ran out, slamming the door behind her. Outside, she called a taxi and went to her friend Elena’s place. What she needed right now was somewhere to sleep and enough distance to clear her head.
“He really said that?” Elena stared at her in disbelief. “He accused you of an affair with your boss?”
“Can you imagine?” Nastya paced the room. “Three years together, and suddenly this. And all because of his mother!”
“She’s definitely a very controlling woman,” Elena nodded. “I remember how she tried to command the whole wedding.”
“She’s not controlling, she’s a dictator!” Nastya exclaimed. “She thinks I’m supposed to come running the second she calls and fulfill every one of her whims. And instead of protecting me, Roma supports her in everything.”
“You’re emotional right now,” Elena said gently. “Maybe leaving so abruptly wasn’t the best idea. You could have talked in the morning when you were both calmer.”
“No, Lena. I can’t live like this anymore,” Nastya shook her head. “Let Roma decide who matters more to him, his wife or his mother. And until then, I’m staying away.”
“You can stay here as long as you need,” Elena assured her.
The next day, Nastya showed up at work with red eyes from lack of sleep. She tried to focus on the project, but her mind kept returning to the fight. Roma had called several times, but she didn’t answer. She needed time to think.
After lunch, Viktor Andreevich called her into his office.
“Anastasia, is everything all right?” he asked, studying her face. “You seem distracted today.”
“I’m fine,” she said with a weak smile. “Just didn’t sleep much.”
“I don’t interfere in my employees’ personal lives,” he said gently, “but if something is wrong and it’s affecting your work, it’s better to deal with it. The project is in a critical phase. We need your full attention.”
Nastya sighed.
“I’m sorry, Viktor Andreevich. I do have some… family problems. But I’ll manage, I promise.”
“I understand,” he said unexpectedly warmly. “I had problems with my mother-in-law once too.”
“Really?” Nastya looked at him in surprise.
“The first years of my marriage were a real test,” he nodded. “My wife’s mother was constantly interfering, criticizing everything I did. My wife was caught in the middle.”
“And how did you deal with it?”
“My wife and I sat down and had an honest conversation,” he said. “We decided that our marriage was our business, and no one else had the right to run it. We set boundaries and made it clear to our parents that we valued their opinion, but we would make our own decisions.”
“And they accepted that?”
“Not right away,” he smiled. “My mother-in-law sulked for a long time, manipulated, tried to turn my wife against me. But we stayed united, and eventually it settled down. Now we have an excellent relationship.”
“Sounds like a fairy tale,” Nastya sighed. “In my case it’s more complicated. My husband is completely on his mother’s side. He thinks I should do whatever she asks.”
“Then start with a conversation with him,” Viktor advised. “Tell him how you feel. Don’t accuse him. Speak from your own experience. Men often don’t understand what’s going on unless it’s said plainly.”
Nastya nodded.
“Thank you. I’ll try.”
“And remember, work matters, but family matters more,” he added. “If you need a day off to sort things out, you have my permission.”
“No, I’ll manage,” Nastya said firmly. “Work actually helps me stay grounded.”
When she stepped out of his office, Veronika caught up with her.
“Nastya, are you okay? You look terrible.”
“Roma and I had a fight,” she said briefly. “I left and went to a friend’s place.”
“Oh no,” Veronika shook her head. “Was it all because of your mother-in-law again?”
“Yes. She told Roma I’m having an affair with Solovyov, can you believe it?” Nastya gave a bitter laugh. “And he believed her.”
“That’s serious,” Veronika said, frowning. “Listen, have you thought about talking to Nikolai Alexandrovich? He seems reasonable. Maybe he could influence the situation.”
“My father-in-law?” Nastya looked surprised. “But he never interferes. He always stays on the sidelines.”
“Not exactly,” Veronika said. “My husband says your father-in-law is very principled and fair at work. Maybe it’s worth trying.”
Nastya thought for a moment. It was true, Nikolai Alexandrovich had always stayed in the background during family conflicts, letting his strong-willed wife dominate every room. But maybe, just maybe, it was time to talk to him directly.
Nikolai Alexandrovich was in his office reviewing documents when there was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” he said without looking up.
“Hello, Nikolai Alexandrovich,” came Nastya’s voice from the doorway.
He looked up in surprise.
“Nastya? What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you,” she said firmly, closing the door behind her. “About our family.”
He leaned back in his chair.
“Has something happened?”
“Do you know that Roma and I had a major fight? That I moved out?”
“No,” he said with a frown. “Olga didn’t mention anything.”
“Not surprising,” Nastya said with a bitter smile. “She thinks I’m the cause of every problem.”
“Sit down,” he said, pointing to a chair. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Nastya took a deep breath and began from the beginning. She told him about the constant demands, the nonstop calls, the endless errands, the way Olga Dmitrievna had turned Roma against her, the fight, and finally the accusations of infidelity.
“I can’t live like this anymore,” she finished. “I love Roma, but I will not be the sacrifice between him and his mother. He has to decide who matters more.”
Nikolai listened without interrupting. When she was done, he sat in silence for a long moment.
“You know, Nastya,” he said at last, “I’m probably just as guilty in all this as Olga is.”
“You?” she asked in surprise.
“Yes, me,” he nodded. “All these years I let Olga take control, set the rules, interfere in our son’s life. I stayed silent when I should have spoken. And this is the result: a family on the verge of collapse.”
“Not collapsed yet,” Nastya said quietly. “Not yet.”
“You’re right,” he said, getting to his feet. “It’s time to correct my mistakes. I’ll talk to Olga. And to Roma.”
“Do you think they’ll listen?” she asked doubtfully.
“Roma will,” he said firmly. “As for Olga… that will be harder. But I have to try. I stayed silent too long, and that is my fault.”
He stepped closer and laid a hand on her shoulder.
“You’re a good girl, Nastya. And a good wife for our son. I’m sorry we didn’t always appreciate that.”
To her own surprise, Nastya burst into tears. For the first time, someone from her husband’s family was standing on her side, seeing her pain, acknowledging what she had gone through.
“Thank you,” she whispered through her tears.
“Don’t thank me,” he said, shaking his head. “Just go back to your husband. We’ll deal with the rest.”
That same evening, Nikolai Alexandrovich had a serious conversation with his wife.
“Olya, this cannot continue,” he said, looking her straight in the eye. “You are destroying our son’s marriage with your interference.”
“What nonsense!” Olga flared up. “I just want him to have a proper family! A wife who takes care of him instead of chasing a career!”
“And have you ever considered that it’s their right to decide what kind of family they want?” he shot back. “Nastya has every right to her own life and career. They are adults, and they can manage without being told how to live.”
“Since when do you defend that girl?” Olga asked suspiciously.
“I’m not defending Nastya. I’m defending our son’s family,” he said calmly. “The family you are tearing apart with your own hands. They’ve already separated. Did you know that?”
“What?” Olga actually sat down in shock. “When?”
“Yesterday. After you suggested to Roma that his wife was cheating on him.”
“I never said that!” Olga protested. “I just implied…”
“That’s enough, Olya,” he cut her off. “No more pretending. You knew exactly what you were doing and what it would lead to. But it ends now. I will not let you destroy our son’s family.”
“And what exactly are you going to do?” she challenged him.
“I’m going to talk to Roma,” he said firmly. “I’ll explain what he’s doing wrong by allowing you to interfere in their lives. And if you don’t stop these manipulations, I will keep speaking to him every single time you try to turn him against his wife.”
Olga stared at him in stunned disbelief. In all their years together, he had never spoken to her with such firmness.
“So you’re choosing that girl over me?” she finally said.
“I’m choosing our son’s happiness,” he answered calmly. “And if you truly love him, you should do the same.”
“Dad, why did you want to see me?” Roma asked, sitting in the living room of his parents’ house and tapping nervously on the armrest.
“We need to talk, son,” Nikolai said, sitting opposite him. “About your marriage.”
“Nastya complained to you?” Roma frowned.
“Nastya came to me because she is worried about your marriage,” his father replied calmly. “And so am I.”
“Everything would be fine if she just helped Mom a little,” Roma said stubbornly. “Is that really so difficult?”
“This isn’t about help,” his father said, shaking his head. “It’s about respect. Your mother does not respect Nastya as a person. She does not respect her work, her time, or her life. She sees her as someone who should simply carry out orders.”
“Dad, what are you even saying?” Roma protested. “Mom just wants order in the family. She wants her daughter-in-law to respect her elders…”
“What is respect, Roma?” his father interrupted. “Is it calling someone seven times a day with demands? Turning a husband against his wife? Accusing your daughter-in-law of cheating without a shred of proof?”
Roma looked uncomfortable.
“Well, Mom was just making an assumption…”
“She deliberately planted doubt in your mind,” Nikolai said firmly. “And you let that doubt damage the trust between you and your wife. Tell me honestly, Roma. Do you really believe Nastya is cheating on you?”
After a pause, Roma said quietly, “No. I don’t. I was just angry. She’s always at work. She has no time for me, no time for my parents…”
“She has an important project,” his father said more gently. “This is her chance to move forward in her career. Don’t you want your wife to succeed at something she cares about?”
“Of course I do,” Roma sighed. “But Mom says…”
“For one minute, forget what your mother says,” Nikolai interrupted again. “Think with your own head. What matters more to you: your wife’s happiness or your mother’s comfort?”
Roma fell silent.
“I love Nastya,” he said at last. “And I want her to be happy. But I can’t just ignore Mom either…”
“No one is telling you to ignore your mother,” his father said. “Just put things in their proper place. Explain that you are a grown man, that you have your own family, and that you and Nastya will decide how to live. She can give advice if she wants, but she has no right to dictate your life.”
“Do you think she’ll listen?” Roma asked uncertainly.
“If you are firm, yes,” Nikolai nodded. “I’ve spoken to her too. I think she is beginning to understand that she has gone too far.”
“I don’t know, Dad,” Roma admitted. “I’m not even sure Nastya will want to talk to me after everything that happened.”
“She will,” Nikolai said with conviction. “She loves you. But she needs to know that you are on her side. That you stand with her, not with your mother.”
Roma thought for a moment, then nodded decisively.
“You’re right, Dad. I’ll talk to Nastya. And to Mom.”
“That’s my boy,” Nikolai said with quiet pride. “Now go bring your wife home.”
On the day of the final project presentation, Nastya was more nervous than ever. The past weeks had been difficult. Living at her friend’s place. Barely speaking to Roma. Working late every night. She had lost weight, dark circles had appeared under her eyes, but the project was nearly complete, and the results had exceeded every expectation.
“Are you ready?” Viktor Andreevich asked, stepping into her office an hour before the presentation.
“I think so,” Nastya nodded, glancing over her slides one last time. “We’ve done strong work.”
“You’ve done strong work,” he corrected her. “This is your achievement, Anastasia. And I want you to know that whatever happens at the presentation, I’ve already recommended you for a promotion. The company needs people like you.”
“Thank you,” she said, touched. “That means a lot.”
When she walked into the conference room fifteen minutes before the start, nearly all the department heads and board members were already there. She laid out the materials, checked the presentation on the screen, and took a deep breath to steady her trembling hands.
And then she saw a familiar figure in the far corner.
Roma.
He had come.
She could hardly believe it. But her relief quickly turned into anxiety when she noticed Olga Dmitrievna sitting beside him. Why had her mother-in-law come to the presentation? Was she going to make a scene?
At that moment, Veronika approached her.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered, noticing the look on Nastya’s face. “Nikolai Alexandrovich is here too. He won’t let Olga ruin your big moment.”
And indeed, her father-in-law was seated right next to Roma and Olga, quietly saying something to his wife. Olga looked displeased, but restrained.
The presentation went brilliantly. Nastya explained the project clearly and confidently, walked everyone through the projected savings, and answered every question with precision. When she finished, the room broke into applause.
“Outstanding work, Barsukova,” the general director said, shaking her hand. “If this unfolds the way you’ve calculated, the company will save millions. I’m impressed.”
Afterward, coworkers came up to congratulate her, shaking her hand and praising her work. She felt almost weightless with relief and happiness.
Then Olga Dmitrievna appeared in front of her.
“So this is what you’ve been doing all this time,” she said, looking Nastya up and down. “Shuffling papers.”
“Mom,” Roma warned, but Olga ignored him.
“And home? Family? None of that matters, does it? Career, success, applause, that’s what matters.”
“Olya,” Nikolai said firmly, stepping closer. “We agreed, remember?”
“I’m just trying to understand our daughter-in-law’s priorities,” Olga said with a practiced smile. “Since work seems to matter more to her than family…”
“Both matter to me,” Nastya said calmly, gathering all her self-control. “I love my work, and I love my family. I don’t see any contradiction in that.”
“Oh, of course,” Olga said with sarcasm. “That’s why you left your husband and ran away from home.”
“Mom!” Roma said sharply. “Enough!”
“And what did I say that was so terrible?” Olga asked innocently. “It’s true. She chose her career over her family.”
“No, Mom,” Roma said, and for the first time there was real firmness in his voice. “Nastya did not choose career over family. She just refused to be your servant. And I understand her now.”
Olga gasped.
“Roma! How can you speak to your mother like that?”
“I can because it’s true,” he said firmly. “I stayed silent too long, but I won’t anymore. You expect the impossible from Nastya. You criticize her constantly. You try to turn me against her. It’s wrong, Mom. And it ends today.”
At that moment, Viktor Andreevich approached them.
“Excuse me for interrupting,” he said, “but I’d like to say something. Anastasia is a brilliant specialist, and this project demanded complete dedication. I value her professionalism and her commitment. And I can assure you that any rumors about improper relations between us are absolute nonsense.”
Olga Dmitrievna looked embarrassed. Roma gave Viktor a grateful nod.
“Thank you for clarifying that. It doesn’t really matter to me anymore, but I’m still glad to hear it.”
“Well,” Olga said stiffly, “if everyone thinks I’m the villain here… then I’ll leave.”
She turned and headed for the door.
Nikolai shook his head.
“I’ll go after her. Roma, you and Nastya need to talk. You have a lot to work through.”
When they were finally alone, Roma took Nastya’s hands in his.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I was wrong. I should have supported you instead of listening to Mom.”
“I also went too far,” Nastya admitted. “I shouldn’t have run away. I should have stayed and talked calmly.”
“No,” Roma said, shaking his head. “You did the right thing. It taught me a lesson. And I learned it. You are my family, Nastya. I want you to come home.”
“And what about your mother?” she asked cautiously.
“We’ll set boundaries,” he said firmly. “Polite, but clear. She needs to understand that we decide how to live. No one else gets to interfere in our marriage.”
Nastya smiled faintly.
“I never thought I’d hear you say that.”
“I’ve understood a lot these past few days,” Roma said seriously. “Most of all, I realized I almost lost you because of my own stupidity. I won’t let that happen again.”
He pulled her into his arms, and for the first time in weeks, the tension inside her began to loosen. Maybe it wasn’t too late after all. Maybe they really could begin again, only this time with mutual respect and real support.
Several months passed.
Little by little, life between Nastya and Roma steadied itself. She received her promotion and was now head of the procurement department. He also moved forward in his own career and took charge of a new project at his company.
His parents changed too, in their own way. Nikolai Alexandrovich began visiting his son and daughter-in-law more often, sometimes even without his wife. Olga Dmitrievna, though reluctantly, started adapting to the new reality. She still offered advice, but no longer as commands. More as suggestions that could be followed or ignored.
On this particular Sunday, the whole family had gathered at Nastya and Roma’s apartment for lunch. Nastya had prepared her signature dish, while Roma helped set the table. Olga Dmitrievna, as always, tried to direct the process, though without her former sharpness.
“Nastya, maybe the salad would be better in the middle,” she suggested. “That way it’ll be easier for everyone.”
“Good idea, Mom,” Nastya said, moving the bowl. She had learned not to react to every little comment and to appreciate the rare moments when her mother-in-law genuinely wanted to help rather than control.
After lunch, when Roma’s parents were getting ready to leave, Nikolai Alexandrovich quietly called Nastya aside.
“I’m proud of you, daughter,” he said softly. “And of the way you and Roma handled all this.”
“We couldn’t have done it without you,” Nastya smiled. “Thank you for standing by us then.”
“Sometimes all it takes is one person willing to say the truth,” he replied with a small shrug. “Even if the truth is uncomfortable. Olga is changing too, slowly, but she is changing. It’s hard for her to accept that her little boy has grown up and is living his own life.”
“I understand,” Nastya nodded. “And I don’t hold a grudge. What matters is that we’ve learned to respect one another’s boundaries.”
When the door closed behind his parents, Roma wrapped his arms around her.
“So? Tired of Mom’s advice again?” he asked playfully.
“Honestly, today wasn’t that bad,” Nastya said with a smile. “She even complimented my casserole.”
“Progress,” Roma laughed. “See? I told you things would get better.”
“You were right,” Nastya said, kissing him. “But you know what I realized during these past months?”
“What?”
“That relationships are work. Ongoing work. Every single day. And what they become depends entirely on us,” she said seriously. “We got through our first real test. Now I’m sure we can get through anything else too.”
“Even children?” he asked with a sly grin.
“Even them,” she smiled. “Although I’m sure your mother will have plenty to say about how we raise them.”
“By then we’ll already be experts at setting boundaries,” he winked. “We’ll handle it.”
Together they began clearing the table, chatting easily about future plans, about work, about maybe taking a vacation.
Life went on, but now it did so with new rules, new boundaries, and a new understanding of what it truly meant to be a family.
A real family.
One where each person has the right to respect, support, and space of their own.
