Yana was at her breaking point. She slammed the deck of cards onto the table with a mix of frustration and anger. “I’m sick of carrying you all on my back! Not a single kopeck anymore—go feed yourselves however you like!” she shouted. As she pushed open the door to their apartment, she immediately heard voices coming from the kitchen. Her husband, Igor, was deep in conversation with his mother, Valentina Stepanovna, who had arrived in the morning and settled herself in her usual spot at the kitchen table.
“So, what’s going on with the TV?” Igor asked.
“It’s gotten really old,” Valentina Stepanovna replied, her voice tinged with annoyance. “The picture’s blurry, and the sound cuts in and out. It should have been replaced a long time ago.”
Yana kicked off her shoes and walked into the kitchen, her eyes narrowing at the scene. There sat Valentina Stepanovna, sipping her tea at the table, while Igor fiddled absentmindedly with his phone.
“Ah, Yana’s here,” Igor said cheerfully, completely unaware of the storm brewing in his wife’s mind. “We were just discussing Mom’s TV.”
Yana raised an eyebrow and sighed. “What’s wrong with it?” she asked, her tone flat.
“It’s completely broken. We need a new one,” Valentina Stepanovna said, her voice firm, as if this was a simple and obvious fact.
Igor put his phone down and looked at Yana with an expectant gaze. “You always take care of these things. Buy Mom a TV. We don’t feel like spending our own money,” he said matter-of-factly.
Yana froze in place as she removed her coat. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It was as though Igor had just asked her to buy a loaf of bread. “I don’t feel like it either. And you do?” she asked, struggling to maintain her composure.
“Well, you’ve got a good job, you make decent money,” Igor explained with a shrug. “And my salary is small.”
Yana’s face contorted in disbelief. She looked at her husband as if to confirm whether he was serious. But his face was earnest, completely convinced that his words made perfect sense.
“Igor, I’m not a bank,” Yana said slowly, her voice calm but firm.
“Oh, come on,” he waved it off. “It’s just one TV.”
Yana’s frustration mounted. She sat down at the table and began reflecting on the last few months, even years. Who had paid for the apartment? Yana. Who bought the groceries? Yana. Who paid the utilities? Again, Yana. And don’t even get her started on Valentina Stepanovna’s constant complaints about her blood pressure and her joints, for which Yana had been paying for medications. The loan for the renovations Valentina had taken out—after three months, she had stopped paying it back, and guess who had stepped in to take over that responsibility? Yana.
“Remember something?” Igor asked, breaking her thoughts.
Yana didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she stared at her husband, her mind racing with resentment. Finally, she spoke, “I remembered who’s been paying for everything in this family for the last two years.”
Valentina Stepanovna jumped into the conversation, attempting to shift the focus. “Yana, you’re the lady of the house; the responsibility falls on you. Is it really so hard to buy Igor’s mother a TV? It’s a purchase for the family.”
“For the family?” Yana repeated, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “And where is this family when money needs to be spent?”
“It’s not like we’re not doing anything,” Igor countered defensively. “I work, and Mom helps around the house.”
“What help around the house?” Yana snapped, incredulity creeping into her voice. “Valentina Stepanovna comes over, has tea, and talks about her ailments.”
The mother-in-law’s face twisted in offense. “What do you mean just to talk? I give you advice on how to run a family properly.”
“Advice about how I’m supposed to support everyone?” Yana shot back.
“Well, who else would?” Igor asked, genuinely surprised. “You have a steady job and a good income.”
Yana could feel the weight of exhaustion in her shoulders, a familiar feeling that had settled there for far too long. She looked at her husband again, this time with clearer eyes, realizing he had no intention of changing. “And what do you do with your money?” she asked, her voice quiet but cutting.
“I save it,” Igor replied simply. “Just in case.”
“For what case?” Yana asked, unable to hide her disbelief.
“You never know. A crisis, getting fired. You need a safety cushion.”
“And where’s my safety cushion?” she asked sharply.
“You’ve got a reliable job; they won’t fire you,” Igor said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Yana remained calm. “Maybe it’s time for you and your mother to decide for yourselves what to buy and with what money.”
Igor smirked, as if the whole thing were a joke. “Why talk like that? You manage money so well. And we already try not to burden you with extra expenses.”
“Not burden me?” Yana felt her blood rise to her face. “Igor, do you seriously think you’re not burdening me?”
“It’s not like we ask you to buy something every day,” his mother chimed in, trying to defend him. “Only when it’s really needed.”
“Is a TV really needed?” Yana shot back.
“Of course! How can you live without a TV? The news, the shows…” Valentina Stepanovna’s voice trailed off as she looked at Yana, as if it were a reasonable request.
“You can watch everything online,” Yana countered.
“I don’t understand the internet,” Valentina Stepanovna interrupted. “I need a proper TV.”
Yana realized the conversation was going nowhere. Both Valentina Stepanovna and Igor had been living in a bubble where they truly believed it was Yana’s job to foot the bill for everyone and everything, while they carefully saved their own money for themselves. “All right,” Yana said finally. “Tell me how much the TV you want costs.”
“Well, you can find a good one for forty thousand,” Igor brightened. “A big one, with internet.”
“Forty thousand rubles,” Yana repeated.
“Yeah. Not that much.”
Yana felt her frustration building. “Igor, do you know how much I spend on our family every month?”
“Well… a lot, probably.”
“About seventy thousand rubles every month. The apartment, groceries, utilities, your mother’s medicines, her loan.”
Igor shrugged, as if it were no big deal. “It’s family. That’s normal.”
“And how much do you spend on the family?” Yana asked, her voice trembling with disbelief.
“Well… sometimes I buy milk. Bread.”
“Igor, you spend at most five thousand rubles a month on the family,” Yana calculated. “And not even every month.”
“But I’m saving for a rainy day.”
“Whose rainy day? Yours?”
“Ours, of course.”
“Then why is the money sitting in your personal account and not in a joint one?”
Igor was silent, finally realizing that he couldn’t defend himself. Valentina Stepanovna fell quiet too, sensing the shift in the conversation. “Yana, you’re saying the wrong things,” the mother-in-law said, trying to steer the conversation back to familiar ground. “My son provides for the family.”
“With what?” Yana asked, her patience wearing thin. “Valentina Stepanovna, the last time Igor bought groceries was six months ago. And only because I was sick and asked him to go to the store.”
“But he works!” Valentina Stepanovna objected, her tone defensive.
“And I work. Only for some reason, my salary goes to everyone, and his goes only to him.”
“That’s just how it’s done,” Igor said uncertainly. “The woman manages the household.”
“Managing the household doesn’t mean carrying everyone on your back,” Yana retorted.
“And what do you suggest?” asked Valentina Stepanovna, her voice high with frustration.
“I suggest everyone support themselves.”
“How’s that supposed to work?” the mother-in-law cried. “What about family?”
“What about family? Family is when everyone contributes equally, not when one person pulls everyone else along.”
Igor’s face showed genuine confusion. “Yana, that’s a strange way to think. We’re husband and wife, we have a joint budget.”
“Joint?” Yana laughed bitterly. “Igor, a joint budget is when both people put money into one pot and spend it together. And what do we have? I put money in, and you keep yours for yourself.”
“Not for myself—I’m saving it.”
“For yourself. Because when money is needed, you’ll spend it on your own needs, not shared ones.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do. Right now your mother needs a TV. You have forty thousand set aside. Will you buy it for her?”
Igor hesitated, visibly uncomfortable. “Well… that’s my savings.”
“Exactly. Yours.”
The mother-in-law tried to regain control of the situation. “Yana, you shouldn’t talk to your husband like that. A man should feel like the head of the family.”
“And the head of the family should support the family, not live off his wife.”
“Igor does not live off you!” the mother-in-law protested.
“He does. For the past two years I’ve paid for the apartment, food, utilities, your medicines, and your loan. And Igor has been saving money for his personal needs.”
“It’s only temporary,” Igor tried to justify himself. “There’s a crisis, times are tough.”
“Igor, we’ve been in a ‘crisis’ for three years now. And with every month, you shift more expenses onto me.”
“I’m not shifting them; I’m asking for help.”
“Help?” Yana let out a short laugh. “Did you pay the rent at any point in the last six months?”
“No, but—”
“Did you buy groceries?”
“Sometimes.”
“Igor, buying milk once a month does not count as buying groceries.”
“Well, okay, I didn’t. But I work and bring money into the family.”
“You bring it in and immediately stash it in your personal account.”
“I’m not hiding it; I’m saving it for the future.”
“For your future.”
The mother-in-law jumped back in. “Yana, what’s gotten into you? You never used to complain.”
“I used to think it was temporary. That my husband would soon start pulling his weight with family expenses.”
“And now?”
“Now I understand I’m being used like a cash cow.”
“How can you say that!” Igor burst out.
“What else am I supposed to call it when one person supports everyone else and they still demand gifts?”
“What gifts? The TV is something Mom needs!”
“Igor, if your mother needs a TV, then your mother should buy it. Or you can buy it for her out of your savings.”
“But her pension is small!”
“And is my salary made of rubber—stretchable without limit?”
“Well, you can afford it.”
“I can. But I don’t want to.”
Silence fell over the room. Igor and his mother exchanged glances, unsure of what to do next.
“What do you mean you don’t want to?” Igor asked, his voice quiet, almost hesitant.
“It means I’m tired of supporting the family alone.”
“But we’re a family; we’re supposed to help each other.”
“Exactly. Each other. Not one person helping everyone else.”
Yana stood up from the table, her decision made. She realized they saw her as a cash machine that should dispense money whenever they demanded it.
“Where are you going?” Igor asked.
“To take care of things.”
Without another word, Yana pulled out her phone, opened her banking app, and began moving her money to a separate account. Her fingers moved quickly, blocking Igor’s access to the joint card and transferring all her savings into a new account she’d opened a month earlier, just in case.
“What are you doing?” Igor asked warily.
“Taking care of financial matters,” Yana replied curtly, her voice steady.
Five minutes later, the money was transferred, and she permanently revoked access for everyone but herself.
“Igor, what’s going on?” he asked, his voice laced with panic.
“What should have happened a long time ago is happening,” Yana said calmly.
Igor tried to peer at her phone, but she angled it away. Valentina Stepanovna looked on, confused and alarmed.
“What have you done?” she demanded. “We’ll be left without money!”
“You’ll be left with the money you earn yourselves,” Yana replied, her tone cool and measured.
“What do you mean, ourselves? What about family? What about the joint budget?” the mother-in-law screamed.
“Valentina Stepanovna, we never had a joint budget. There was only my budget, which everyone fed off.”
“You’ve lost your mind!” the mother-in-law shrieked. “We’re family!”
Yana stood her ground. “From today on, we live separately. I am not obligated to pay for your whims.”
“What whims?” Igor protested.
“Is a forty-thousand-ruble TV really a necessary expense?”
“For Mom, yes!” Igor snapped.
“Then let Mom buy it with her pension. Or you buy it with your savings.”
“But her pension is small!”
“And is my salary made of rubber?”
“I can’t believe this,” Valentina Stepanovna said, her voice rising in fury. “You’ve crossed the line now!”
Yana looked at her mother-in-law calmly, unshaken. “I dare.”
The situation quickly escalated, with Valentina Stepanovna running to Igor, urging him to stand up to his wife, but he simply stood silent, unwilling to defend her.
Yana, on the other hand, realized that the time had come to stop sacrificing herself for the sake of people who refused to support themselves. She had carried the burden for long enough, and it was time for them to fend for themselves.
The next day, Yana visited the bank and set up her new account, moved all her savings into it, and printed statements for the last two years, showing that all the money had been spent solely on her husband and his mother. She returned home to pack Igor’s things.
“What are you doing?” Igor asked when he came home from work.
“Packing your things,” Yana replied.
“Why?”
“Because you don’t live here anymore.”
“This is my apartment too!” he protested.
“The apartment is in my name. I decide who lives in it,” she replied calmly.
“But we’re husband and wife!” Igor countered.
“For now, yes. But not for long.”
Yana rolled his suitcase out of the apartment and held out her hand.
“The keys.”
“What keys?”
“To the apartment. All sets.”
Reluctantly, Igor handed her the keys. “Does your mother have keys?”
“Yes, she comes by sometimes.”
“Call her. Have her return them.”
“Why?”
“Because she no longer has the right to enter my apartment.”
Yana’s voice was calm, but it left no room for argument. She had made her decision, and nothing would change it.
The police were called when Valentina Stepanovna refused to give back the keys. Within half an hour, the officers arrived and clarified the situation. The mother-in-law was ordered to return the keys.
“You’ll regret this!” she screamed as she left the apartment, but Yana stood firm.
A week later, Yana filed for divorce. It went through quickly—there was no property to divide, the apartment was hers, and so was the car.
Igor tried to reach out to her. He asked for a meeting, promising that everything would change. “Too late,” Yana said calmly.
“You don’t love me anymore?”
“No,” Yana said softly. “I don’t love your selfishness.”
“Igor, if your mother needs a TV, then your mother should buy it herself. Or you can use your savings to buy it for her.”
“But my mother’s pension is very small!” Igor protested.
“So what about my salary? Is it made of rubber, stretching endlessly?” Yana replied firmly.
“You can buy it,” Igor said.
“I can. But I don’t want to.”
The room fell silent, with only Yana’s soft breathing breaking the stillness. Igor and Valentina Stepanovna looked at each other, confused. They couldn’t understand why Yana was doing this, why she suddenly decided to stop giving them money. But Yana had made up her mind, and she couldn’t turn back now.
“I don’t understand you anymore, Yana,” Igor said weakly. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I’ve given you enough chances,” Yana replied gently but resolutely. “You haven’t changed, and nothing changes. I can’t keep living like this.”
Valentina Stepanovna quickly stood up, trying to shift the situation. “Yana, you can’t do this. We’re family!”
“Family?” Yana repeated, her eyes filled with tears, but still not weary. “Family is when everyone contributes. Not when just one person carries everyone else.”
Igor lowered his head, speechless. His mother dared not speak any further. Yana stood up and walked out of the room, not looking back.
The next day, Yana went to the bank, opened a new account, and transferred all her money into it. She had prepared for this moment when she realized she needed to protect herself. She didn’t want her money to be taken away from her anymore. When she returned home, Yana took out a suitcase and began packing Igor’s belongings.
“What are you doing?” Igor asked when he got home and saw the suitcase being packed.
“Packing your things,” Yana replied briefly.
“I don’t understand you anymore,” Igor said, his voice confused. “This can’t be real.”
“It’s actually happening,” Yana responded calmly. “You’re not living here anymore.”
“But this is my home, we’re married!” Igor protested.
“This house is mine,” Yana replied. “And I decide who lives here.”
Igor hesitated. “What do you mean? I have to leave?”
“Yes, you have to go.”
Yana rolled the suitcase into the hallway and held out her hand.
“The keys.”
“What keys?” Igor looked at her, bewildered.
“The keys to this apartment. All sets.”
Igor silently handed her the main key and the spare. Yana checked them.
“Does your mother have a key?”
“Yes, she comes over sometimes.”
“Then call her. Tell her to return the keys.”
“She won’t do that.”
“Then call her anyway. She no longer has the right to enter my apartment.”
Igor didn’t say anything more, only looked at Yana with disappointment. His mother arrived shortly after, and when she saw the suitcase, she understood what was happening.
“What is this?” she asked, her voice stern.
“Your son will no longer live here,” Yana replied.
“That can’t be! This is his home!” Valentina Stepanovna shouted, but Yana stood her ground.
“This is my home,” Yana said calmly. “And from today, you no longer have the right to enter here.”
Her mother-in-law got angry and tried to argue, but Yana was resolute. If she didn’t do this, her life would never change. Finally, when Yana called the police, her mother-in-law had no choice but to return the keys.
Outside, the police ordered her to return the keys and leave the apartment. She kept shouting, threatening that Yana would regret this, but Yana remained unfazed.
A week later, Yana filed for divorce. It went through quickly, with no shared property to divide, as the apartment had always belonged to Yana, and the car was also bought by her with her own money.
Igor still called her, wanting to meet and convince her that things would change. “It’s too late,” Yana replied firmly. “Trust cannot be restored.”
“But I love you!” Igor said.
“Do you love me, or do you love my wallet?” Yana asked.
“I love you, of course!”
“Then why did you live off me for three years without any remorse?”
Igor had no answer.
Eventually, the divorce went through without any objections from Igor. The court declared their marriage dissolved.
For the next month, Valentina Stepanovna kept calling Yana—sometimes crying, sometimes threatening, sometimes asking for money for medicine. Yana listened quietly and hung up.
“My blood pressure is high because of you!” her mother-in-law complained over the phone.
“Then ask your son to help. He has savings.”
“He says he’s sorry to spend the money!”
“Wonderful. Now you understand how I felt for three years.”
Six months later, Yana ran into Igor at the store. He looked tired, his clothes wrinkled, no longer neat like before.
“Hi,” Igor said awkwardly.
“Hello.”
“How are you?”
“Great. And you?”
“Fine… I’m living with Mom for now.”
“I see. Do you know you were wrong?”
“I realize it now. I’m now paying for all Mom’s medicines and repairing her apartment.”
“Really? How does it feel to spend money?”
Igor hesitated and then answered truthfully, “It hurts a lot.”
“Now imagine doing that for three straight years.”
“I understand. Forgive me.”
“I’ve already forgiven you. But that changes nothing.”
“What if I make things right? What if I become a different man?”
“You only ‘became different’ when you ran out of my money. That’s not change—that’s being forced by circumstances.”
Igor nodded. He knew Yana was right.
“I have to go,” Yana said and walked toward the checkout.
At home, Yana brewed tea and sat by the window with a book. The apartment was peaceful—no one demanding money for TVs, medicine, or anything else. The money in her account now only served to fulfill her own plans, no longer a means for survival for the freeloaders around her.
When she closed the door behind Igor six months ago, Yana felt truly light for the first time in a long while. It turned out that freedom from financial parasites was worth more than any family ties. Now, every ruble she spent was a conscious choice, not coercion.
Yana never allowed anyone to climb onto her shoulders again. She had learned to say “no” and no longer felt guilty for refusing to support other adults. Money was now a tool to realize her own plans, not a means of survival for freeloaders.
