Larisa Anatolyevna’s voice sounded sharp even in the morning scent of coffee, as if every word carried its own weight. “Gather your thoughts and consider carefully: your son has already started a family, found a wife, and is raising children.
He needs the house more than you do, living alone. When you marry, you will move into your own home. So, I say you should hand the house over to your son, so he can live happily with his children and his lovely wife.
It matters more to them, and you will receive your share. You’ll see, your brother will be grateful, and life will reward your generosity.”
Larisa Anatolyevna hoped her daughter would truly hand over the house she had fought for all these years, working tirelessly every day.
But Sveta was not ready for her mother’s blunt demand. She gathered all her strength to finally stand her ground.
Since childhood, Sveta had feared her mother. It was not surprising, as the woman constantly blamed her for everything that went wrong in her life.
Most likely, Larisa Anatolyevna tried to compensate for her own failures instead of supporting her daughter.
The most painful thing, however, was the way she treated Sveta compared to her brother, Nikita.
Nikita had been born a few years later, six years apart. His mother’s behavior toward him was far more favorable.
Nikita was the true favorite: every little thing he did was praised, while Sveta bore the blame, as if she ruined everything.
In her childhood, Sveta could only dream of hearing the simple words “well done, my girl,” while Nikita basked in approval. In their mother’s eyes, he was the ideal son, the hope for the future, the proper gentleman.
Yet Nikita’s behavior was far from that image. He was jealous and selfish, never wanting to work with his own hands, leaving everything to others.
He loved most when Sveta did the work for him. He noticed their mother’s indifference toward Sveta and exploited it to gain power over her.
Oleg Evgenyevich, the father, watched with sorrow. At first, he tried to persuade his wife to treat their daughter more kindly, but soon realized every effort was pointless.
Larisa Anatolyevna wielded such influence over him that he became completely powerless.
Unfortunately, when Sveta was twelve, her father passed away. That marked the beginning of the most difficult period of her life. If he had previously supported her in secret, she now lost even that last hope.
Only a few true friends remained, with whom she could share her problems. Later, she would be grateful to them for helping her not to lose herself amid the family’s misery.
The years passed slowly and with difficulty, but Sveta never gave up. She excelled in algebra and later in advanced mathematical analysis. Numbers came naturally to her, but physics was a great challenge.
It was then that she decided she wanted to work with numbers. The eleventh grade approached, and she had to choose a university.
“I can’t ask my mother for money; I don’t yet have the funds for tuition. I must think of options without fees. I believe I could be useful in analysis and calculations.
Perhaps an economics university is the right choice,” she thought. And so it happened.
At university, Sveta immediately stood out among her peers. Living in a dormitory was particularly important, allowing her to see her mother and brother only on holidays, when she had to return to the family home.
Deep down, she hoped that her mother might appreciate her more because of her academic achievements, but reality proved the opposite. Nikita was a poor student, and all negative feelings were directed at Sveta, who proudly shared her successes.
The saddest part was that Larisa Anatolyevna knew how unfair she was to her daughter but felt Sveta deserved it. The reason was simple: personal dislike.
“Mom, why don’t you love me? I try, I study, I bring you gifts. I do everything I can to earn your love. Yet year after year, your behavior toward me worsens.
You know how much it hurts…” Sveta tried, but her mother always interrupted.
“There you go again. I treat you properly; don’t make things up. Why are you bothering me? Don’t you have friends? Go tell them how bad I am,” Larisa said, cold and dismissive.
Almost every conversation between them went this way: Sveta cried, and her mother continued with her tasks.
Over time, Sveta decided to build a career in finance, to prove she was not invisible.
After five years of persistent work, she earned 500,000 rubles a month. She worked as an independent accountant, managing company accounts remotely, which many clients found convenient.
Eventually, she hired employees to handle the basic tasks, while she maintained client relations and quality control.
Her income grew to millions per month, and her business flourished. She no longer visited her mother, immersed in her work.
Sveta’s great dream was her own house, with a garden and a pond, where she could read in the summer and enjoy the comforts of home in winter.
The dream came true: the house was built near Moscow, with a beautiful garden and manicured lawn, perfect for barefoot walks.
It seemed she had achieved her goal, and it was time to think about family. She had many admirers, but due to lack of time, she gave no one a chance.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Sveta went to the door and saw her mother on the screen. The woman waited impatiently to be let in.
“Will you open or not? I know you’re home; I asked the neighbors,” Larisa said.
“I’m home, but I don’t really want to let you in,” Sveta replied, feeling stronger than ever.
“This is nonsense! You are my daughter; let me in, we need to talk,” Larisa insisted.
Sveta chose to remain composed. They spoke at the table in the garden.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“Your house is beautiful; I heard you’ve achieved a lot,” Larisa began, but Sveta already suspected the real purpose.
“Exactly why are you here? I don’t believe you came just to praise me,” she said firmly.
Larisa wanted the house—not for herself, but for Nikita.
Sveta listened in shock. Her mother’s bluntness and disdain only strengthened her resolve.
“No, no one is getting it. I live here, and I am not leaving,” she declared.
The tension grew. Larisa had brought Nikita, his wife, and their children, who immediately headed toward the garden. Sveta noticed the children damaging the lawn.
“Thank you, Sveta, for letting us be here,” Nikita said, while his wife feigned joy.
Sveta remained calm but decisive:
“Gather everything and leave! I don’t want to see you in my house or garden. Solve your own problems.”
Larisa left angrily, taking her son, his wife, and their children. Sveta saw an attempt to steal a shovel, but she ignored it, planning to replace it.
“How pathetic to try stealing from me,” she said.
Tears fell, but she felt joy: life had finally given her justice. At last, she could lay the past to rest and move forward.
A year and a half later, joy entered Sveta’s life: her husband, Georgy, moved in with her. Soon, their son Yefim was born. Sveta, who had once doubted family happiness because of her mother’s words, now had a loving husband and a healthy, happy child.
The fate of Larisa, Nikita, and their family remained unknown. Sveta focused solely on her own life, built with hard work and determination.
Neither her mother, nor her brother, nor their family could break her. She faced every trial with her head held high and finally found her own happiness.
