Lena closed the last tab on her laptop and leaned back against the couch with a satisfied smile. For three weeks, she had been searching for the perfect cottage getaway for her and Andrey, and she had finally found it. A two-story house tucked away in a pine forest, panoramic windows, a fireplace in the living room, and—most importantly—a luxurious master bedroom with an enormous bed and a bathroom finished in Italian marble. A whirlpool tub, a rainfall shower, heated floors. She had dreamed about a bathroom like that all winter while working nonstop on two different projects.
“Andryusha, I booked it!” she called toward the kitchen, where her husband was busy making dinner. “Come look at the photos. It’s like a fairy tale!”
Andrey came out, wiping his hands on a towel, glanced at the screen, and let out a low whistle.
“Wow. Looks amazing. A bit expensive, though…”
“We deserve it,” Lena cut in. “I’ve been working like crazy for the past three months. I just want to lie in that tub with a glass of wine and not see a single person. Well… except you, of course.”
Andrey smiled and kissed her on the neck.
“Deal. Just the two of us, peace and quiet, and nature.”
The next two weeks passed in eager anticipation. Lena bought a new swimsuit since the cottage also had a jacuzzi on the terrace, ordered luxurious bath products, and even packed a new set of bed linens because the ones in the photos hadn’t looked cozy enough for her taste. She made a list of meals they would cook together, picked out movies for evenings by the fire, and even took along a book—the one that had been gathering dust on her bedside table for six months.
Then, on Wednesday, two days before they were supposed to leave, Andrey came home from work looking tense. Lena noticed immediately—he avoided her eyes, lingered too long with his bag in the hallway, muttering something under his breath.
“What happened?” she asked, looking up from packing the suitcase.
“Nothing,” he answered too quickly. “I mean… Lena, we need to talk.”
She straightened up. Those words never meant anything good.
“I’m listening.”
Andrey hesitated and rubbed the bridge of his nose—a sure sign the news was going to be unpleasant.
“Katya called. She’s having problems with Dima. Serious ones. They had a fight, and she left him.”
Katya was Andrey’s younger sister, a dramatic thirty-year-old who changed boyfriends like other people changed gloves and turned every breakup into a crisis. Lena didn’t like her much, though she tried not to show it. Katya was the kind of person who drained everyone around her, constantly demanding attention and sympathy for problems that were, more often than not, exaggerated.
“And?” Lena asked carefully, already sensing where this was going.
“She’s staying with a friend right now, but she can’t stay there much longer. The friend’s leaving town. And also…” He took a deep breath. “Katya is pregnant.”
“What?!” Lena dropped the T-shirt she had been folding into the suitcase.
“Two months. Dima didn’t know. Or rather, now he does—she told him yesterday, and that’s what led to the fight. I guess he didn’t take the news too well. Anyway, she’s in shock. She needs support…”
“Andrey,” Lena said slowly, “you’re not about to suggest what I think you’re about to suggest, are you?”
He gave her a guilty look.
“Lena, try to understand—she’s my sister. My only sister. And she’s in a terrible state right now… I can’t just abandon her. What if we take her with us for the weekend? She needs a change of scenery, some fresh air, a chance to think…”
“You’re joking, right?” Lena’s voice rang sharply through the apartment. “Andrey, those are OUR weekends! I spent three weeks finding that cottage! We planned to be alone together!”
“I know, honey, but—”
“No ‘but’!” Lena felt irritation rising inside her. “Your sister always has some kind of drama going on! Last time she stayed with us for a whole week because she ‘couldn’t be alone after breaking up with Maxim.’ Before that, we canceled our trip to Prague because she urgently needed money for some courses she quit a month later! Andrey, I do feel sorry for her, I really do, but this is too much!”
“She’s pregnant, Lena,” he said quietly. “And scared. She needs family.”
Lena closed her eyes and counted to ten. She knew she had lost. She could tell by the way Andrey was looking at her—with hope, but also with the determination of someone prepared to keep persuading her until she gave in. He was a good man, a caring brother, and that was one of the reasons she had fallen in love with him. But sometimes that goodness turned against her.
“Fine,” she exhaled at last. “But this is the last time, Andrey. The last time. And she sleeps in the second bedroom. And she does not interfere with our plans.”
Andrey lit up and wrapped his arms around her.
“Thank you, sweetheart! You’re the best! Katya will be so grateful!”
Lena didn’t respond. She went back to packing, her mood already ruined beyond repair.
Friday was rainy. Katya showed up at their apartment door at ten in the morning with two giant bags, red eyes, and the expression of a tragic heroine. She was wearing a wrinkled dress, her hair was pulled into a messy bun, and her makeup was smeared.
“Lena,” she sniffled as soon as she stepped inside, “thank you for letting me come! I’m so grateful. You can’t even imagine what I’m going through!”
“Come in,” Lena said dryly, eyeing the amount of luggage. “Why do you need two bags for two days?”
“Well, I didn’t know what to bring…” Katya wiped her nose. “I’m in such a state right now, nothing feels right…”
Andrey loaded their things into the car, and they set off. The entire drive, Katya talked nonstop—about what a bastard Dima was, how dare he say he “wasn’t ready for a child,” how she would now have to raise the baby alone, how unfair life was. Lena stared out the window and silently said goodbye to her dream of a peaceful romantic weekend.
The cottage turned out to be even more beautiful than in the pictures. A wooden exterior, huge windows, a veranda with wicker furniture, and tall pine trees all around, filling the air with silence and the scent of resin. The first floor held a spacious living room with a fireplace and an open kitchen. Upstairs were two bedrooms. The master bedroom was large, with access to a balcony and the exact bathroom Lena had dreamed about. The second one was smaller, with an ordinary shower.
“Oh, this is adorable!” Katya exclaimed as she rushed into the house. “Andryusha, show me where I’m sleeping!”
“The second bedroom upstairs,” Andrey said, carrying the bags. “Come on, I’ll take your things up.”
While he dealt with the luggage, Lena went to inspect the master bedroom. She opened the door and, for a brief moment, forgot all her irritation. An enormous bed with crisp white linens, tall pillows, bedside lamps glowing warmly. She stepped into the bathroom and gasped. Marble everywhere, a tub almost the size of a small pool, candles lining the edges, a glass shower enclosure, fluffy white towels. Perfect. Exactly the room she had imagined.
“Wow, would you look at this!” Katya’s voice came from behind her.
Lena turned around. Katya was standing in the doorway, openly admiring the room.
“This bedroom is incredible! And the bathroom!” Katya walked past her and ran a hand along the marble countertop. “I’ve always dreamed of a bathtub like this. Can I take a bath here tonight?”
“Katya, this is mine and Andrey’s room,” Lena said carefully, feeling her back tense.
“Yeah, I know,” Katya said absentmindedly, peering into the shower. “I’m just asking for an hour.”
Lena exhaled in relief. Thank God. She had misunderstood.
They unpacked, Andrey lit the fireplace, and Lena started preparing lunch. Katya made herself comfortable on the couch with her phone, sniffling from time to time and making comments out loud.
“He’s not even trying to call me!”
“He’s probably happy I left!”
“How could I have been so wrong about him?”
By evening, Lena felt her patience was almost gone. Dinner passed in strained silence—Katya picked at her food, complained of nausea, and refused half the dishes. After dinner, Andrey suggested watching a movie, but Katya said she was tired and wanted to go to bed.
“I’m going to take a bath and then sleep,” she announced, getting up from the sofa.
“You have a shower in your room,” Lena reminded her.
“Yes, but it doesn’t have a real bathtub,” Katya said, looking genuinely puzzled. “Lena, you don’t mind if I use your bathroom, do you? My doctor said a warm bath helps with stress, and right now I need to take care of the baby…”
Lena was about to object, but Andrey spoke first.
“Of course, Katya. Go ahead.”
“Thanks,” Katya smiled and headed upstairs.
“Andrey,” Lena said quietly after his sister disappeared from sight.
“Lena, what’s the big deal?” he shrugged. “She’ll take a bath and go to sleep.”
An hour later, when Lena finally went upstairs herself, hoping to go to bed, she found that Katya was still splashing around in the bathtub. Music was playing, and the bathroom smelled of some strong shower gel—definitely not the one Lena had carefully picked out for herself.
She knocked on the door.
“Katya, are you almost done?”
“Oh, sorry! Just a little longer!” Katya called back. “I got so relaxed in here!”
That “little longer” stretched into another half hour. When Katya finally emerged, wrapped in Lena’s bathrobe—the one hanging on the hook—Lena was already lying in bed, angrily pretending to read.
“Thank you, it was amazing!” Katya chirped. “I used your bath salts, hope that’s okay? They smell wonderful—lavender, right?”
Lena said nothing. Those salts had been expensive, and she had bought them especially for this weekend.
“Good night!” Katya floated out of the room.
Andrey was already asleep, softly snoring beside her. Lena lay staring at the ceiling. Tomorrow, she promised herself. Tomorrow I will take that damn bath and enjoy it. No Katya. No interruptions.
The morning began with a crash. Lena woke to the sound of someone banging dishes downstairs. She checked the time—seven o’clock. On a Saturday. On the very weekend she had planned to sleep in.
When she came downstairs, she found Katya in the kitchen. She was frying eggs, dirty dishes were piled everywhere, and something was boiling on the stove.
“Good morning!” Katya said cheerfully. “Sorry if I woke you. I got so hungry! The nausea went away, and I suddenly wanted a proper breakfast. Want some eggs and bacon?”
“No, thanks,” Lena said, pouring herself some water. “Katya, it’s only seven. We wanted to sleep in.”
“Oh, sorry!” Katya looked sincerely upset. “I didn’t think. I’m just used to getting up early…”
Andrey came down ten minutes later, sleepy and disheveled.
“Something smells good!”
The day kept unfolding in all the wrong ways. Lena wanted to walk through the woods with Andrey, but Katya complained of being tired and asked him to stay with her. Lena wanted to read on the veranda, but Katya sat down next to her and began pouring out every detail of her relationship drama with Dima. Lena wanted a little peace and quiet, but Katya turned on music because, as she put it, “I can’t stand silence, it makes me sad.”
By lunchtime, Lena was close to a breakdown. She locked herself in the master bedroom, hoping to find at least a moment of peace there, but no such luck. There was a knock at the door.
“Lena, can I come in?” Katya peeked inside. “I was thinking… I have a favor to ask.”
“What is it?” Lena asked tiredly.
“My back is killing me. Probably from stress. And the pregnancy too…” Katya sat down on the edge of the bed. “That bed in the guest room is kind of hard. I tossed and turned all night, and the doctor said it’s really important for me to get enough sleep right now.”
Lena felt a cold sense of dread.
“And?”
“I was thinking… maybe I could sleep in here? In this room?” Katya spread her hands apologetically. “I know it’s your room, but the bed is so much more comfortable, and the bathroom is right here. I have to get up a lot at night… You and Andrey could sleep in the guest room. Just for one night. I’m sorry to ask, but I really feel awful…”
Lena stared at her in disbelief.
“You want us to give you our bedroom?”
“Well… just for one night,” Katya muttered. “I really didn’t sleep, and my back…”
“No, Katya!” Lena stood up. “This is our bedroom! I chose this cottage because of this room! No!”
“Oh, come on, don’t be so selfish!” Katya suddenly snapped. “It’s only one night! I’m pregnant, I’m struggling, and you…”
“I’m selfish?!” Lena’s voice rang like a bell. “Katya, you—”
“What’s going on here?” Andrey appeared in the doorway.
“Your sister is demanding our bedroom!” Lena burst out.
“I’m not demanding it, I’m asking!” Katya protested, her eyes already filling with tears. “Andryusha, I really feel awful. My back hurts, my head is spinning, that bed is too hard… I thought Lena would understand, but she…” She sniffled. “She doesn’t even want to consider what a pregnant woman is going through!”
Andrey looked at his wife uncertainly.
“Lena, maybe we really could give it up for one night…”
“What?!” Lena could hardly believe her ears. “Andrey, are you serious right now?”
“Well, she really is having a hard time. She’s pregnant…”
“WHY ON EARTH WOULD YOUR SISTER BE SLEEPING IN MY BEDROOM?!” Lena felt something inside her snap for good. “Andrey, I chose this cottage! I planned this weekend! I agreed to bring her even though I didn’t want to! And now you’re suggesting we hand over our room to her?!”
“I’m not suggesting we hand it over forever, I’m asking if we can give it up for one night!” Andrey raised his voice too. “Can’t you just meet her halfway? She’s my sister, and she feels awful!”
“You know what,” Lena said, snatching up her phone, “I’m going to fix this. In a different way.”
She stormed out of the room, ran downstairs, stepped out onto the veranda, and with trembling hands searched through her contacts. Dima. Katya’s boyfriend. He had to be in her phone—they had met at Andrey’s birthday six months ago.
She found his number and pressed call.
“Hello?” a surprised male voice answered.
“Dima, this is Lena, Andrey’s wife. Sorry to bother you. I need to ask you something. What happened between you and Katya?”
Silence.
“She’s with you?” His voice suddenly filled with relief. “Thank God! I had no idea where to find her! She blocked me everywhere! She won’t answer my calls!”
“What happened, Dima?”
“Nothing major!” he exhaled. “We argued over something stupid. I said I was tired after work and wanted to stay home and watch football instead of going to some party with her friend. She completely lost it, said a bunch of things, accused me of not caring about her, of saying that since she’s pregnant I should do whatever she wants. I tried to explain that I was just exhausted and we could go another time, but she packed her things and left! I called her at least twenty times, texted her, but she blocked me! Lena, I’m going out of my mind! I want to be with her, I want to support her, I’m happy about the baby, but she won’t even let me explain!”
Lena closed her eyes. Of course. Of course that was the real story.
“Dima, are you ready to come pick her up?”
“Right now! Where are you?”
Lena gave him the address of the cottage and ended the call. Then she sat down on the veranda steps, wrapping her arms around her knees. Inside her, anger, hurt, and grim satisfaction churned together. She would set things right. Right now.
Andrey came out a minute later.
“Lena, what are you doing? Katya’s in there crying…”
“I called Dima,” Lena said calmly. “He’s on his way.”
“What?!” Andrey went pale. “Why? She broke up with him!”
“No, Andrey. She threw a fit over something ridiculous because he didn’t want to go to a party, and she ran away. He called her, but she blocked him. He’s happy about the baby, he wants to be with her. And he’ll be here in an hour.”
“Lena, you had no right—”
“I had every right to save our weekend,” Lena said, standing up and meeting his eyes. “Andrey, your sister manipulates people. She always manipulates people. She creates drama, demands attention, and plays the victim. And every single time, you fall for it. But not today.”
“You don’t know what she’s going through!”
“I know she’s going through an ordinary fight that could be solved with one honest conversation. But she prefers drama. I prefer common sense.”
Dima arrived forty minutes later. Tall, athletic, with a kind face and worried eyes, he practically jumped out of the car.
“Where is she?”
Katya came downstairs, saw him, and froze.
“Dima? What are you doing here?”
“I came for you,” he said, stepping closer. “Katya, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t go to that party. I’m sorry I came home exhausted and irritated. But please, don’t run away from me. I love you. I want to be with you, I want to raise our child with you. You know that.”
“You said you weren’t ready!” Katya’s voice shook.
“I said I was scared for a moment! That’s normal! But I am ready! Katya, I want this baby, I want a family, I want you!” He suddenly dropped to one knee right there in the middle of the living room. “Katya, marry me. Not this second, obviously—but soon. I mean it. Let’s get married, have this little one, buy a bigger apartment… I want to be with you. Forever.”
Katya stood there with her mouth open, tears streaming down her face.
“You… really mean that?”
“I do,” he said, standing up and taking her in his arms. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. I was just overwhelmed. But I love you. And I love our future baby.”
They stood there embracing, Katya crying into his shoulder. Andrey watched them with visible relief. Lena stood nearby with her arms folded, waiting.
At last, Katya pulled away from Dima.
“I need to pack my things.”
She went upstairs. Dima threw Lena a grateful look.
“Thank you for calling me.”
Half an hour later, they left. Katya hugged Andrey, apologized to Lena—“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking straight”—and then they disappeared into the deepening twilight.
Silence settled over the house at last.
“So,” Andrey turned to Lena, “now we can finally relax?”
Lena looked at him for a long moment. She was still boiling inside—hurt that he had been ready to give up their bedroom for his sister, hurt that he had not taken her side right away, hurt that his sense of duty toward Katya had outweighed their relationship yet again.
“You know what, Andrey,” she said slowly, “you go relax. In the living room. In front of the TV. Or in the guest room. Wherever you were planning to sleep after giving our bed away.”
“Lena, what?” He blinked in confusion.
“I’m going to relax in the master bedroom. In that exact bed you were so ready to hand over. And I’m going to take the luxurious bath I’ve been dreaming about for three weeks. Alone. Without you. Without your sister. Without anyone else’s requests, crises, or manipulation.”
“Lena, that’s ridiculous…”
“No, Andrey. What was ridiculous was being willing to give up our room. What was ridiculous was not standing up for me. What I’m doing now is what I should have done from the start—rest the way I wanted to. Alone.”
She turned and walked upstairs. Once inside the bedroom, she shut the door and leaned against it. Her heart was pounding, her hands were trembling, but ahead of her was the luxurious bath she had been dreaming of—the one where, at last, she could sink into hot water, let the tension melt away, and forget every miserable moment of the weekend.
