26/05/2025
Your mother is just a simple kolkhoz woman, but my wife is a lady from high society!" — the husband sneered, casting a contemptuous glance at his mother-in-law standing nearby at the celebration.
"Your mother is an ordinary village woman, and mine is a real lady!" — Anton said dryly, smirking, throwing a disdainful look at his mother-in-law who stood by the festive table holding a plate.
Svetlana went pale. A heavy silence fell over the room — even the background music seemed too loud compared to that phrase. Her mother blinked, slightly pressed her lips together, but didn’t utter a word. She just adjusted her apron and continued laying out napkins as if she hadn't heard anything.
"Anton!" Svetlana whispered through clenched teeth. "Are you completely out of your mind?"
"What did I say that's so wrong?" he shrugged. "Isn't it the truth? Look at her: a dress from the Soviet-era wardrobe, a kolkhoz-style hairstyle, manners… Don’t you see the difference between her and yourself?"
Svetlana felt a boiling rage inside. Anger rose to her throat, her heart beat fast and painfully. It wasn't the first time, but today — in front of guests, on her fortieth birthday.
"You know, Anton," she slowly approached her husband, speaking almost in a whisper, "my 'village' mother raised me alone, worked herself to exhaustion so I could study. She is a true person, with honor and dignity. And you... are just a man in an expensive suit with a cheap soul."
The guests whispered among themselves. Anton flushed deeply, wanting to argue, but Svetlana had already turned away.
"Mom," she addressed her mother-in-law, "let’s have the cake. I’ve decided that today is not just my birthday. Today I realized who I really care about."
To approving applause from the guests, the cake was brought into the hall. Anton, without saying goodbye, put on his coat and left, leaving a bouquet of white roses on the dresser in the hallway.
After he left, the celebration unexpectedly came alive. People stopped being tense, laughter became natural, and for the first time in many years, Svetlana felt free. She danced with her son, laughed with her mother, hugged her relatives. There was no need to pretend anymore.
Late in the evening, after the guests had left, she and her mother remained alone in the kitchen, drinking tea.
"Sorry, Mom... I endured for a long time because I was afraid to be alone."
"Svetochka, it's better to be alone than with someone who humiliates you every day," her mother took her hand.
Svetlana cried. But not from pain — from liberation. Her life could be different.
A month passed.
Anton no longer called. Svetlana filed for divorce, and he did not resist. He only sent one message:
"Your own fault. Good luck with your mama."
She calmly changed her number.
A new chapter began. Mornings started with yoga, days — with work, evenings — with books and silence. No hysterics, no mockery, no constant fear of doing something wrong.
One day, Ivan — a colleague from the marketing department — approached her.
"Listen, Sveta, can I invite you for coffee? It's just... you seem to be glowing from the inside. I'd like to know the secret."
She smiled.
"Try to guess."
Ivan and Svetlana began dating. He was attentive, a kind-hearted person. They went to the movies, took walks, brewed coffee in the mornings, and laughed at the silliest things.
Then one Saturday, while they were choosing shelves in a store, a message came.
From Anton:
"I need to talk to you. Very urgently. I'll come by this evening."
Svetlana froze, reading it.
"It's him," she said quietly.
Ivan’s hand rested on her shoulder.
"Do you want me to be there with you?"
"No. This is my business. My relationship. My mistakes. I have to close this chapter myself."
In the evening, the doorbell rang. Anton stood on the doorstep — neatly shaved, in an expensive coat, with a bouquet of roses and that old, long-familiar half-smile.
"You look good," he began.
"And you, as always, with flowers when you want to make amends. What do you want?"
Anton entered without invitation, looked around the apartment: new curtains, soft lighting, warmth. No trace of the old life.
"I changed my mind... I was wrong. We can start over. Now I appreciate you."
Svetlana stood before him, calm and confident.
"Anton, you don't miss me. You miss the woman who was silent and endured. And I’m no longer that woman."
"So, is that all?"
"All. Thanks to you, I learned to value myself. And that's the best gift you ever gave me."
She saw him to the door. The bouquet stayed on the windowsill. A minute later, the roses were in the trash.
Svetlana texted Ivan:
"Come over. I'll make you coffee."
Anton didn’t leave so easily.
At first — silence. Then — strange coincidences: the ignition lock of Svetlana’s car broke, calls from unknown numbers, a sudden letter from a stranger company: "We are reviewing your resume," although she never sent any application.
One evening, Ivan appeared at the door. His face had a fresh bruise.
"Someone hit me in the yard. Just like that. From behind. Sveta... I think this isn’t a coincidence."
Svetlana went pale. Inside, everything clenched...
Continued in the comments
