Maya was standing by the stove when her phone vibrated on the table.
Ekaterina Stanislavovna.
Her mother-in-law.
Maya wiped her hands on a towel and picked up the phone.
“Hello.”
“Maya, hello, darling,” her mother-in-law said in that sickly sweet voice that immediately told Maya what was coming. “How are you? How is our Semyon?”
“Everything is fine, Ekaterina Stanislavovna. Semyon is at work.”
“That’s good, dear. Very good. Maya, sweetheart, I wanted to ask you for something,” she paused, then sighed. “You see, I urgently need money for medicine. My blood pressure has been terrible, and the doctor prescribed new pills. They’re expensive.”
Maya closed her eyes and slowly exhaled.
It was the third time that month.
The last time, Ekaterina Stanislavovna had asked for money to repair her bathroom. Before that, she needed money for an outfit to wear to a friend’s wedding.
“How much do you need?” Maya asked, already knowing she would probably give it anyway.
“Fifteen thousand. With a little extra, you know, in case I need something else.”
Fifteen thousand for blood pressure pills.
At the pharmacy near her mother-in-law’s apartment, Maya had seen the prices herself. Even the most expensive medication for blood pressure cost no more than three thousand. But she didn’t argue.
“All right. Will you come by for the money?”
“Oh, Maya, thank you, you’re such a good girl! Yes, I’ll stop by tomorrow. Will you be home?”
“I will.”
Her mother-in-law said goodbye and hung up.
Maya returned to the stove and added potatoes to the soup.
Three years of marriage. Three years of constant requests for money.
At first, Maya had given it easily, without asking questions. After all, this was her husband’s mother, family. Then she began noticing that the requests were becoming more frequent, and the amounts were getting larger.
And not once, not a single time, had Ekaterina Stanislavovna sincerely thanked her.
She always took the money as if it were expected. As if Maya was obligated to support her.
Semyon knew about his mother’s requests. Maya never hid anything from him. She simply mentioned it in passing.
Your mother asked for money for this. Your mother asked for money for that.
Her husband would nod and say it was normal, that helping parents was the right thing to do.
So Maya stayed silent, because she didn’t want to create problems.
The next day, Ekaterina Stanislavovna came to collect the money. Maya greeted her, led her into the kitchen, and poured her some tea. Then she took an envelope with fifteen thousand from the cupboard and handed it over.
“You’re helping me so much,” her mother-in-law said, taking the envelope and slipping it into her purse without even looking inside. “You’re so caring.”
Maya nodded and finished her tea.
Ekaterina Stanislavovna sat for a little while, talked about the weather, her health, and some acquaintances, then left. The envelope disappeared into the depths of her handbag, and the conversation was over.
Two weeks passed.
Ekaterina Stanislavovna called again. This time she needed money for a new television because the old one had supposedly stopped working properly. Maya transferred twenty thousand.
A week later, she needed to help a friend whose grandson had been born. A decent gift was needed. Maya gave her ten thousand.
But the real reason for the confrontation happened on Saturday, at Ekaterina Stanislavovna’s birthday celebration.
She was turning sixty-five and had arranged a large dinner. Relatives, friends, and neighbors were all invited. Maya and Semyon arrived early to help set the table, arrange the dishes, and decorate the apartment.
Guests arrived one by one. Semyon’s sister, Alla, came with her husband and two children. Distant relatives from his father’s side also arrived. Then came Ekaterina Stanislavovna’s friends and neighbors from the building.
The apartment filled with voices, laughter, and the clinking of glasses.
Maya sat at the table between Semyon and his cousin, smiling, answering questions, and keeping up polite conversation. Ekaterina Stanislavovna glowed at the center of attention, accepting congratulations and gifts.
After the toasts to the birthday woman’s health, the conversation at the table began drifting in different directions. Some discussed politics. Others talked about the news. Someone gossiped about acquaintances.
Alla, Semyon’s sister, started talking about the difficulties of raising teenagers, and soon the conversation turned to children and family values.
“Young people today are nothing like they used to be,” sighed one of Ekaterina Stanislavovna’s friends, a plump woman in a bright dress. “They get married but are in no hurry to have children. They live only for themselves.”
“Exactly,” another friend agreed. “My granddaughter has been married for three years, and still no baby. She says she’s building her career.”
Ekaterina Stanislavovna nodded as she listened to her friends. Then she turned to Maya and smiled that special smile of hers — the kind that never meant anything good.
“It’s the same in our family,” her mother-in-law said, and silence immediately fell over the table. “Maya has been married for three years, and what is there to show for it? Nothing. She lives uselessly and pointlessly.”
Maya froze with her fork halfway to her mouth.
Her mother-in-law’s words hung in the air, heavy and sticky.
“She doesn’t have children,” Ekaterina Stanislavovna continued, now addressing everyone at the table. “She doesn’t bring her husband real care or joy. All she knows how to do is sit on her phone and work.”
Someone at the table chuckled.
Alla, Semyon’s sister, snorted into her napkin. Her mother-in-law’s friends laughed approvingly, as if Ekaterina Stanislavovna was simply a sharp-tongued woman who always told the truth.
Maya lowered her fork onto the plate.
A cold feeling spread through her chest. Icy and burning at the same time. Her face flushed, and her hands began to tremble.
She lifted her eyes and looked at Semyon.
Her husband sat with his head down, studying the food on his plate.
Silent.
Just silent.
As if he hadn’t heard his mother humiliate his wife in front of everyone.
“Well, Ekaterina Stanislavovna, it’s not that terrible,” one of the distant relatives said, trying to ease the tension. “They’re still young. They’ll enjoy life a little, then they’ll have children.”
“Enjoy life,” her mother-in-law snorted. “Three years have already passed. It’s time.”
The rest of the evening passed for Maya like a blur.
She smiled mechanically whenever someone spoke to her. She nodded in response. She ate something without tasting it.
Inside her, resentment grew heavier and heavier.
Her mother-in-law’s words kept repeating in her head.
Useless and pointless.
When she and Semyon were riding home in a taxi, Maya stared out the window and said nothing.
Her husband was silent too, occasionally glancing at her.
At home, Maya silently took off her clothes, went to the bathroom, washed her face, and lay down in bed.
Semyon lay beside her and hugged her, but she remained still, staring at the ceiling.
“Good night,” he muttered, then turned away.
Maya did not answer.
The following days passed in a strange numbness.
Work. Home. Cooking. Cleaning.
Everything was the same as usual, but something inside her had changed.
Maya began remembering every single time Ekaterina Stanislavovna had asked for money. She remembered how her mother-in-law once called in the middle of the night demanding an urgent transfer to repair her refrigerator. She remembered how she came over and took envelopes without even saying thank you.
She remembered how, after Maya had given her thirty thousand for a new coat, Ekaterina Stanislavovna had complained to her friends that her daughter-in-law was stingy.
Manipulation.
Constant, endless manipulation.
Ekaterina Stanislavovna saw Maya as a cash cow, someone who was supposed to provide her with everything she needed — and everything she merely wanted.
And in return?
Humiliation in front of guests. Insults. Mockery.
Maya sat in the kitchen with a cup of cold coffee and realized she could not live like this anymore.
Something had broken inside her at that birthday table.
Not only when her mother-in-law insulted her, but when Semyon stayed silent.
When her own husband did not stand up for her. Did not stop his mother. Did not say a single word in her defense.
A week passed.
Exactly one week after her mother-in-law’s birthday.
Maya came home from work, changed clothes, and started making dinner. Then the doorbell rang.
She looked through the peephole.
Ekaterina Stanislavovna stood outside in an expensive fur coat, holding a new handbag.
Maya opened the door.
“Good evening, Ekaterina Stanislavovna.”
“Maya, hello, darling,” her mother-in-law said, walking into the apartment. She took off her fur coat and hung it on the rack. “Are you alone?”
“Semyon is still at work.”
“Good. Then you and I need to talk.”
They went into the living room. Ekaterina Stanislavovna settled into an armchair, and Maya sat on the sofa opposite her.
“Maya, I have a request,” her mother-in-law began in her usual tone. “I need money. Urgently.”
“What for this time?” Maya asked calmly.
“My friend is celebrating her anniversary. She’s turning sixty. I need a proper gift. I’ve already found a beautiful dinner set for her, but it’s expensive. Twenty-five thousand.”
Ekaterina Stanislavovna kept talking, and Maya listened.
Silently.
She did not nod. She did not interrupt. She simply sat and looked at her mother-in-law.
The older woman took Maya’s silence as agreement and continued.
“It’s porcelain, very beautiful. Raisa Petrovna has dreamed of one like it for years. I can’t show up with some cheap gift, can I? We’ve been friends for forty years. It has to be something worthy.”
“I see,” Maya said slowly.
“Wonderful. I knew you would understand,” Ekaterina Stanislavovna said with relief. “When can you give it to me? The celebration is in three days.”
“I can’t,” Maya said calmly.
Her mother-in-law froze.
“What?”
“I won’t give you any money, Ekaterina Stanislavovna.”
“Maya, what are you talking about?” Her mother-in-law laughed nervously. “It’s for my friend. For her anniversary.”
“I know. But I won’t give you the money.”
Ekaterina Stanislavovna straightened in the chair, her face tightening.
“Maya, what is going on? You’ve always helped me.”
“I did,” Maya nodded. “For three years. For medicine, repairs, gifts, televisions, clothes. There were so many things I’ve lost count. But now it’s over.”
“Over?” her mother-in-law repeated, steel entering her voice. “What do you mean, over?”
Maya stood up and walked to the window. She stood there for a moment, looking down into the courtyard. Then she turned around and looked directly at her mother-in-law.
“The free feeding trough is closed. Get used to living within your means,” Maya said evenly, staring Ekaterina Stanislavovna straight in the eyes.
Her mother-in-law went pale, then red.
Her lips trembled.
“What did you just say?”
“Exactly what you heard. No more money.”
“Maya!” Ekaterina Stanislavovna jumped up from the chair. “Have you lost your mind? How dare you speak to me like that?”
“I dare,” Maya said, crossing her arms. “Because I’m tired of being your source of income.”
“Source of income?” Her mother-in-law nearly choked with outrage. “I am your mother-in-law! Your husband’s mother! I have always treated you like my own daughter!”
“People don’t treat their own daughters that way,” Maya replied calmly. “They don’t humiliate them in front of guests. They don’t call them useless and pointless.”
Ekaterina Stanislavovna froze.
The look on her face made it clear she remembered exactly what she had said at her birthday dinner.
“I… It was a joke,” she muttered. “Everyone laughed.”
“I didn’t.”
“Maya, don’t be so sensitive,” her mother-in-law said, trying to sound softer. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. It just came out that way.”
“Just like that,” Maya repeated. “And you just happen to take money from me every week. You just happen to think I owe you. You just happen to treat me like an ATM.”
“I do not treat you that way!” Ekaterina Stanislavovna protested. “I ask for help. It’s normal to ask family for help.”
“Help and constant money-draining are two different things,” Maya said firmly. “You don’t ask for help. You demand money and act as if it’s your right.”
“I am Semyon’s mother!” Ekaterina Stanislavovna shouted. “I have a right to receive help from you!”
“You do,” Maya nodded. “But not from me. After what you said at your birthday, I no longer see any reason to support you financially.”
“How can you?” Her mother-in-law clutched her chest. “After everything I’ve done for you!”
“What exactly have you done?” Maya raised an eyebrow. “Please, list it.”
Ekaterina Stanislavovna opened her mouth, then closed it again.
She was silent, apparently trying to remember at least one thing.
“I… I accepted you into the family,” she finally forced out.
“And thank you for that,” Maya nodded. “But that does not give you the right to demand money from me every week.”
“You’re ungrateful!” Ekaterina Stanislavovna stamped her foot. “Cold and ungrateful! I cared for you so much, and you—”
“Cared for me?” Maya gave a bitter smile. “When? When you humiliated me in front of guests? When you called me in the middle of the night demanding money? When you told your friends I was stingy?”
“I never—”
“You did,” Maya interrupted. “Your friend Raisa Petrovna told me herself. By accident, last week, when I ran into her at the store.”
Her mother-in-law turned even paler.
“Maya, let’s talk calmly,” Ekaterina Stanislavovna said, changing tactics. “I understand that you’re offended. But it’s foolish to ruin a relationship over a couple of careless words.”
“This is not about a couple of careless words,” Maya said, shaking her head. “This is about how you really see me. To you, I was and still am nothing more than a source of money. Convenient. Quiet. Someone who never argues.”
“That’s not true!”
“It is. And after your performance at your birthday dinner, I am no longer going to tolerate it.”
At that moment, they heard a key turning in the front door.
Semyon had returned from work.
He entered the hallway, took off his jacket, then heard voices coming from the living room and walked in.
“Mom?” Semyon stopped in the doorway, looking at his mother. “What happened?”
Ekaterina Stanislavovna rushed toward her son and grabbed his arm.
“Semyon! Your wife! She… she insulted me! She’s throwing me out! She’s saying terrible things!”
Semyon looked at Maya, then at his mother.
“What happened?”
“I came to ask for a little money,” his mother sobbed, taking out a handkerchief. “For a gift for my friend. And she… she said she would never give me another kopek! She called me a freeloader!”
“I did not call you a freeloader,” Maya said calmly. “I said the free feeding trough is closed and that it’s time for you to learn how to live within your means.”
Semyon blinked, processing what he had just heard.
“Maya, what is going on?”
“What should have happened three years ago,” his wife said, stepping closer to him. “I refused to give your mother money.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m tired,” Maya looked him straight in the eyes. “I’m tired of being an ATM. I’m tired of the constant demands. And I’m especially tired of the way your mother humiliates me.”
“I never humiliated her!” Ekaterina Stanislavovna cried. “Semyon, that isn’t true!”
“It is true,” Maya said, still looking at her husband. “At your mother’s birthday party last week. In front of all the guests. She said I live uselessly and pointlessly. That I don’t have children and don’t give you real care.”
Semyon frowned, remembering.
“That was… Well, Mom was joking…”
“Joking?” Maya felt anger rising inside her. “Humiliating your wife in front of guests is a joke?”
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” Ekaterina Stanislavovna said quickly. “It just came out wrong.”
“And you stayed silent,” Maya said, looking at her husband. “You sat there and said nothing. Not one word in my defense.”
Semyon lowered his eyes.
“I didn’t want to ruin Mom’s birthday.”
“But ruining your wife’s evening was acceptable, right?” Maya crossed her arms. “You know what, Semyon? I stayed quiet for three years. For three years I gave your mother money for everything. For three years I endured her demands, complaints, and criticism. But after that birthday, I’m done. Enough.”
“Maya, let’s discuss this calmly…”
“There is nothing to discuss,” she interrupted. “I’ve made my decision. No more money for your mother. If you want to help her, help her from your own salary. But she is not to come to me anymore.”
Ekaterina Stanislavovna sobbed louder, pressing the handkerchief to her eyes.
“Semyon, do you hear this? She refuses to help your own mother!”
Semyon stood between his mother and his wife. It was clear from his face that he was torn. Ekaterina Stanislavovna tugged at his arm, sobbing and complaining about Maya’s ingratitude. Maya stood silently, watching her husband and waiting.
“Mom,” Semyon said slowly. “Did you really say that about Maya? At your birthday? Do you actually think that?”
“I… Semyon, sweetheart, it was a joke,” his mother said, clutching his hand. “Everyone was talking about children, and I…”
“You called my wife useless and pointless,” Semyon finished for her.
“That’s not what I meant!”
“Then what did you mean?”
Ekaterina Stanislavovna fell silent, staring at her son with wide eyes.
“Mom, I heard those words,” Semyon said quietly. “I just didn’t take them seriously at the time. But now I understand that Maya is right.”
“What?” his mother stepped back. “Semyon, are you taking her side?”
“Yes,” he said firmly. “Maya is my wife. And Mom, I’m sorry, but you really do ask for money too often.”
“How can you?” Ekaterina Stanislavovna gasped. “I’m your mother! Your own mother! And you’re choosing this… this…”
“Careful,” Semyon warned, his voice suddenly hard. “Maya is my wife. And if I have to choose between you, I will choose my wife.”
His mother froze with her mouth open.
Then her face twisted, and tears filled her eyes. This time, they were real, not theatrical.
“Traitor,” Ekaterina Stanislavovna whispered. “My own son is a traitor.”
“Mom, don’t,” Semyon stepped toward her, but she recoiled.
“Don’t come near me!” she shouted. “I raised you! I raised you alone after your father left! I gave you my whole life! And you—”
“I’m grateful to you for everything,” Semyon said calmly. “But that doesn’t mean Maya has to support you.”
“Support me?” Ekaterina Stanislavovna nearly choked. “I’m not asking to be supported! I’m asking for help once in a while!”
“Once in a while means every week?” Maya asked. “Count it yourself. In the last three months alone, you’ve asked me for more than one hundred and fifty thousand rubles.”
“That’s not true!”
“It is,” Maya said, taking out her phone and opening her notes. “I wrote it down. Look. September: twenty-five thousand for a television, fifteen for medicine, ten for a gift for your friend. October: thirty thousand for a coat, twenty for repairs, ten for the theater. November: fifteen for medicine again, twenty for a neighbor’s anniversary, fifteen for a new phone. Total: one hundred seventy-five thousand in three months.”
Semyon took his wife’s phone and looked at the list.
His face stretched in shock.
“Mom, is this true?”
“I… I had needs,” Ekaterina Stanislavovna said, stepping back toward the door. “My pension isn’t enough…”
“Your pension is thirty-five thousand,” Semyon reminded her. “Plus you rent out the summer house during the season. That’s another forty thousand. Where does the money go?”
His mother stayed silent, staring at the floor.
“Mom, answer me,” Semyon insisted.
“For life,” she finally muttered. “Utilities, food, medicine…”
“Utilities are five thousand at most,” Maya counted on her fingers. “Food is around fifteen thousand if you’re careful. Medicine, maybe another five. That still leaves ten thousand. Where does it go?”
Ekaterina Stanislavovna did not answer.
“Mom,” Semyon said, stepping closer to her. “Maya is right. You really do ask for money too often. And the amounts really are large.”
“So you’re both against me,” Ekaterina Stanislavovna lifted her head, hurt flashing in her eyes. “Fine. I understand everything. I will no longer bother you with my requests.”
“Mom, don’t do this,” Semyon tried to stop her, but she was already heading for the door.
“I will remember this,” she threw over her shoulder. “I will remember how you betrayed me.”
She grabbed her fur coat from the rack, threw it over her shoulders, and left, slamming the door behind her.
Semyon stood in the hallway, staring at the closed door. Then he slowly turned to his wife.
“She’ll be offended.”
“Let her be,” Maya said with a shrug.
“Maya, she’s my mother…”
“I know. And I’m not against you helping her. Just let it be your money, not mine.”
Semyon stepped closer and hugged her.
“I’m sorry I stayed silent that day at the birthday party. I really didn’t want to spoil her celebration. But I was wrong.”
“Yes,” Maya said, leaning into him. “Very wrong.”
“It won’t happen again.”
“I hope so.”
They stood together in the hallway, and Maya felt a heavy weight finally lift from her shoulders.
At last, she had said what she should have said three years earlier.
At last, she had defended her boundaries.
The next few days were calm.
Ekaterina Stanislavovna did not call or visit. Semyon tried to phone his mother several times, but she didn’t answer. Later, she sent a dry message:
“I’m alive and well. Don’t worry.”
A week passed.
Then two.
Then a month.
Ekaterina Stanislavovna finally answered her son’s call, but the conversation was cold and tense. She refused to meet, refused to visit, and kept her distance.
Maya expected to feel guilt. Regret.
But instead, she felt relief.
For the first time in three years of marriage, she no longer had to worry that her mother-in-law would call with another request for money. She no longer had to prepare envelopes, transfer sums, or listen to explanations about why Ekaterina Stanislavovna urgently needed money again.
At first, Semyon was gloomy. He was clearly upset about the conflict with his mother. But eventually, he began to adjust.
Maya noticed that her husband became calmer and more relaxed, as if a weight had fallen from his shoulders too.
One evening, while they were sitting on the sofa watching a movie, Semyon suddenly said:
“You know, I counted it. Over three years of marriage, Mom asked us for more than five hundred thousand rubles.”
Maya turned to him.
“That much?”
“Yes. I looked through the transfers, remembered the envelopes, everything. It came out to five hundred twenty thousand.”
“That’s almost a year of our rent,” Maya said slowly.
“Or a down payment on a car,” Semyon added.
They sat in silence for a while.
“I don’t regret helping Mom,” he continued. “But now I understand that it was too much. Way too much.”
“Yes,” Maya nodded.
“Thank you for stopping it,” Semyon said, putting his arm around her. “I wouldn’t have been able to do it myself.”
“You would have. You just didn’t see the problem.”
“I didn’t want to see it,” he corrected her. “It was easier to believe everything was normal.”
Maya leaned against her husband and exhaled.
They had handled it.
Together, they had dealt with the problem.
Two more months passed.
Ekaterina Stanislavovna finally agreed to meet her son. They went to a café together, just the two of them, without Maya.
Semyon returned home late in the evening, looking tired.
“How did it go?” Maya asked.
“Fine,” he said, taking off his jacket. “Mom is still offended. But not as much as before.”
“Did she ask for money?”
“No,” Semyon shook his head. “Not once. She talked about her friends, the neighbors, her health. But not a word about money.”
“That’s good.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “It is.”
Their relationship with Ekaterina Stanislavovna remained strained.
She spoke to her son, but coldly and distantly. She rarely agreed to meet and never invited them over. She ignored Maya completely — no greetings, no replies to messages, pretending her daughter-in-law did not exist.
Maya was not upset.
She did not need her mother-in-law’s fake warmth when it always came with demands for money. Honest coldness was better than false affection.
Semyon learned to communicate with his mother independently and stopped allowing her to manipulate him.
When Ekaterina Stanislavovna eventually hinted that she was short on money, Semyon calmly suggested helping her make a budget so they could see where her pension was going.
She took offense and never brought up the topic again.
A year passed.
Maya and Semyon managed to save enough money for a down payment on a car. They chose a good used foreign car, took out a loan, and became happy owners of their own vehicle.
When Semyon told his mother about the purchase, Ekaterina Stanislavovna was surprised.
“Where did you get money for a car?”
“We saved it,” her son answered briefly.
“Strange. You used to say you had no money.”
“We really didn’t before,” Semyon looked at his mother. “Now we do.”
His mother fell silent and never raised the question again.
Maya sat behind the wheel of their new car and smiled.
She had defended her boundaries.
She had learned to say no.
She had stopped being convenient and silent.
And in the end, she had gained not only peace, but also the freedom to live her own life, make her own plans, and save for her own dreams.
The free feeding trough really had closed.
And it was the right decision.
