After Svetlana Vasilyevna moved into her daughter-in-law’s apartment, Veronika lost every bit of peace and sleep she had left. Living under the same roof with your mother-in-law is no pleasure, especially when she cannot stand you.
From the very beginning, Veronika knew she had never pleased her husband’s mother. Svetlana Vasilyevna always found a reason to criticize her. Either her son’s T-shirts were wrinkled, even though he himself had forbidden anyone to iron them, or he was not eating enough and needed only “proper, nourishing meals,” or the apartment was too dusty, which, according to her, was terribly harmful for the lungs.
Veronika had tolerated it while she and her mother-in-law lived separately. But the past few weeks had felt like a punishment straight from hell. What had she done to deserve this? She had no answer.
After being hospitalized because of sudden spikes in blood pressure, Svetlana Vasilyevna announced that the doctor had strongly advised her not to stay alone. She needed constant supervision, and supposedly she had nowhere else to go except to her son and daughter-in-law. Besides, Veronika worked from home most of the time. Surely, her daughter-in-law could keep an eye on her and call an ambulance if necessary.
Veronika had no desire to become anyone’s nurse, but she also could not leave her mother-in-law alone in such a condition. What if something really happened to her and no one was there to call for help? No matter how strained their relationship was, Veronika knew she would never forgive herself if anything happened to the woman.
Svetlana Vasilyevna took full advantage of Veronika’s kindness. She made no attempt to build a better relationship with her. Instead, she kept blaming her for every tiny thing she could invent out of nothing. She had been living in Veronika’s apartment for a week and a half since leaving the hospital, and every day felt like walking barefoot over broken glass.
That morning promised nothing good. Veronika woke up with a heavy head and only one thought:
“I just wish this would end already.”
Svetlana Vasilyevna came into the kitchen when the clock was nearing eleven. She wore a perfectly ironed robe, and her hair was styled into a strict, neat shape. For a woman who had supposedly been prescribed bed rest, she looked surprisingly energetic and full of strength.
“Good morning,” Veronika said quietly, pushing a footstool closer to her mother-in-law’s chair so she could elevate her legs, just as the doctor had recommended.
Svetlana Vasilyevna looked over the table with disgust.
“Good, if one can even call it good. Veronika, please tell me, what kind of breakfast is this? Where is proper tea? Where is the teapot? You put a cup of boiling water in front of a sick elderly woman and gave me some cheap little tea bag? That is disrespectful.”
“Svetlana Vasilyevna, yesterday you told me I used too many dishes and that you didn’t need the teapot because you drink tea bags. But if you want, I’ll make loose-leaf tea right now.”
“I said that about evening tea! In the morning, I drink only loose-leaf. You should pay attention to details, Veronika. That is what care means. If you took responsibility for looking after me, then do it properly, not just for show.”
Veronika gripped the edge of the counter to stop herself from answering sharply.
At that moment, footsteps sounded from the hallway. Anton, Veronika’s husband, came into the kitchen, scratching the back of his head. He was wearing a house T-shirt, still sleepy and, as usual lately, emotionally absent.
“Oh, is there coffee?” he asked, giving Veronika a quick kiss on the cheek before dropping into the chair across from his mother.
“I made yours in the cezve, the way you like it,” Veronika replied, placing a cup in front of him.
“Son, just look at her,” Svetlana Vasilyevna began complaining, pointing at the cup with the tea bag in front of her. “Your wife has shown me my place. She made coffee for you, but refused to make me normal tea. She gave me some dusty little bag instead.”
“Mom, why are you getting worked up first thing in the morning?” Anton muttered tiredly, not looking up from the phone he had pulled from his pocket. His thumb scrolled mechanically through the news feed.
“So you think I’m being petty? She is openly showing that I am a burden to her. Your little wife doesn’t want to take care of me properly.”
“Svetlana Vasilyevna, I already said I’ll make you loose-leaf tea right now,” Veronika said evenly, trying to keep calm. “And I do not consider you a burden.”
“She doesn’t consider me one!” the mother-in-law snorted, watching Veronika wash the teapot. “Anton, look at how she washes cups. She just wipes them once with the sponge and that’s it. Do you know how many germs remain? I have a weak heart, and she can’t even wash dishes properly for me.”
Anton lifted his eyes from the screen for a split second, looked at his wife’s hands, then at his phone again, mumbled something unclear, and returned to watching another video.
Veronika froze, waiting for at least one word of support. But he simply took a sip of coffee and sank back into his phone.
“Are you even listening to me?” Svetlana Vasilyevna raised her voice, turning to her son. “I’m talking to her, and she pretends to be busy washing dishes. And you just sit there on your phone. Neither of you cares about my health.”
“Mom, why do you have to start this in the morning?” Anton drawled without lifting his head. “She’ll wash the cup twice, she’ll make you loose-leaf tea. Why make a scene? My head is already splitting after yesterday.”
“After yesterday!” Svetlana Vasilyevna seized on his words with renewed force. “And what, do you think I slept wonderfully? My blood pressure was one hundred eighty, by the way! And instead of sitting beside me and checking my pulse, Veronika was clattering away on the keyboard until two in the morning. I couldn’t sleep because of that noise!”
Veronika slowly placed the teapot on the table. Her hands were trembling.
“Svetlana Vasilyevna, I was working. I stayed up until two in the morning because during the day I drove you to your tests, then went to three different pharmacies for your prescribed medicines because the nearest one didn’t have two of them. And today I have a report to submit.”
“Oh, don’t start with your reports!” her mother-in-law waved her off. “Young people nowadays know only one thing: work, work, work. What about family? What about caring for those close to you? Anton, do you hear how she is speaking to your mother?”
“Mom, that’s enough!” Anton finally said. “Veronika gets tired too. She is taking care of you as best she can. Stop blaming her for everything all the time.”
For a moment, warmth spread through Veronika’s heart. Her husband had stood up for her, and it felt good.
Svetlana Vasilyevna fell silent, pressing her lips together in offense. She understood that it was better not to continue, otherwise a harmless conversation could turn into a real scandal. She needed to pause for a while, then press harder later.
It was becoming unbearable for Veronika to stay in the apartment with her mother-in-law all the time, so she announced that for the next few days she would go into the office. There was no other way. Her presence there was required.
“You see! She can’t stay! And what if I feel ill? Who will call an ambulance?” Svetlana Vasilyevna exploded again, complaining to her son.
“Mom, then you’ll call me or Veronika. Everything will be fine. Stop grumbling all the time.”
It was clear that even Anton himself was growing tired of his mother’s endless whining. He was barely holding on, but he did not want to argue. She was difficult, yes, but she was still his mother.
The next day, Veronika went to work. That day felt like a breath of fresh air. At last, she could breathe freely, stop being afraid of making one wrong move, and stop waiting for her mother-in-law’s judging stare.
In the evening, Veronika came home late. The apartment smelled of a delicious dinner. Had Svetlana Vasilyevna been bored enough to cook? Veronika entered the kitchen and smiled. At least she would not have to cook after such a long, exhausting day.
There was baked fish with potatoes in the oven. Exactly what she needed after a hard day at work. Perhaps it really was better to maintain a relationship with her mother-in-law from a distance.
But the moment Veronika reached for a plate to serve herself some food, her mother-in-law appeared out of nowhere.
“What do you think you’re doing?” the woman asked in a strict tone.
“I see you’re feeling better. You cooked such a fragrant dinner. Will you join me?” Veronika asked, smiling for the first time in all those miserable days they had spent together in the apartment.
“Join you? I cooked this for my son. If you want to eat, make something yourself! This is my Antosha’s favorite dish. He doesn’t like sharing it with anyone.”
Veronika felt deeply hurt. For the first time, the insult rose so strongly inside her that it drowned out everything else. Duty? Obligation? To hell with all of it.
Living in her apartment, using her groceries, Svetlana Vasilyevna still dared to forbid her from touching food?
Her appetite vanished, even though her stomach cramped from hunger. Veronika went into the bedroom and waited for her husband to come home.
“You haven’t eaten yet? Come on! Mom set the table. She made something tasty!” Anton said, peeking into the room as soon as he returned from work and washed up.
“You go ahead. She told me not to touch what she cooked. Enjoy your dinner and think about what to do next. I have no strength left to tolerate your mother’s behavior. If you don’t want us to become enemies, then come up with a solution.”
Anton let out a heavy breath. Now he had lost his appetite too.
He entered the kitchen, where his mother had already lovingly served him a portion of fish. He glanced at the plate, but a lump rose in his throat.
“I made your favorite dish. Who will take care of you if not your mother?” Svetlana Vasilyevna said with a smile. “Come on, eat. Your wife would never do this for you.”
“Mom, stop humiliating my wife all the time. She is my wife. My choice. Every time you speak badly about her, you are speaking badly about me too. It has to stop. I love Veronika, and it hurts me to hear you say nasty things about her. Enough.”
Svetlana Vasilyevna sniffled. She stared at her son in horror. He had always taken her side before, or at least pretended not to notice the quarrels between her and his wife. But now he was defending Veronika.
Anton decided that things truly could not continue this way.
The next day, he went to the building where his mother lived. Her neighbor, Aunt Nyura, who used to treat him to homemade pies when he was a child, was older than Svetlana Vasilyevna but still lived an active life and never complained about her health. She was happy when Anton came to visit with gifts.
“Aunt Nyura, I wanted to ask you something. Could you keep an eye on my mother for a while? The doctor said that because of her blood pressure spikes, she needs to be under supervision, but she and my wife keep arguing.”
“Of course I’ll look after her!” the woman smiled. “What’s the problem? Everyone here keeps an eye on her. Our whole stairwell is friendly; we all look after one another. Didn’t she tell you?”
Of course she had not.
Maybe she had simply wanted to torment Veronika?
Anton offered to pay the neighbor a monthly amount, but Aunt Nyura refused the money. When he returned home and told his mother that everything had been arranged and that she would be going back to her own apartment that very day, Svetlana Vasilyevna tried to act as though she suddenly felt unwell. But Anton immediately understood that it was only an act.
“So this is how you treat your mother? Well, well… I never expected this from my dear son. I truly didn’t,” she said, shaking her head.
“That’s enough, Mom. I am not abandoning you, but I am not going to ruin my marriage because of you either. What you are doing is not normal. You are trying to turn us against each other. Enough. I will not change my choice. I love Veronika, and I want her to feel calm in her own home, not listen to your accusations every day.”
Svetlana Vasilyevna found no words. She became frightened that if she continued to push, she might lose her son completely.
When Anton drove his mother home and returned to the apartment, Veronika looked at him with gratitude. At last, she could breathe more easily.
“I’m sorry I didn’t do this sooner and kept closing my eyes to my mother’s behavior. You will never have to tolerate that kind of treatment from her again. From now on, I will always protect you,” Anton apologized.
Veronika hugged her husband and said that nothing terrible had happened. She was grateful that he had finally understood everything and supported her instead of his mother.
In the end, justice had prevailed.
