The door slammed so violently that Polina flinched, and the towel slipped from her grasp. Down the hallway burst Margarita Semenovna — her mother-in-law, loud, domineering, and utterly convinced that the world revolved around her judgment. As she appeared in the doorway, it was as if the universe itself measured itself by her presence.
— Where is he? — her voice thundered, shaking the walls. — Where is your lover?
Polina stood frozen in the middle of the hallway, in her house clothes, hair dripping from the shower, her expression blank, as if an alien spacecraft had just materialized before her.
— Who? — she stammered, flustered. — Margarita Semenovna, what are you talking about?
— Don’t pretend you can hide it, I know everything! — the mother-in-law stepped forward decisively, as though armed with a search warrant, inspecting every corner of the apartment. — There’s someone in your home! While my son is away on business!
Polina closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. She already sensed that the coming days would test her patience like never before. Eduard had been gone only three days, and yet Margarita Semenovna was already turning suspicion, scrutiny, and insinuations into a full-blown spectacle.
But this day would be unlike any other. The mother-in-law stopped at the kitchen doorway, lifted her chin dramatically, and shouted:
— Aha! Found it! I see it!
Polina exhaled slowly and rolled her eyes. She knew the storm was beginning—and indeed, the storm had arrived.
It had only been a week since the three of them had sat around the kitchen table: Polina, Eduard, and Margarita Semenovna. Then, the atmosphere had seemed almost peaceful.
— Edik, my son — the mother-in-law began, sipping her tea — you are far too naive. Just look at Daria. The girl is perfect. From a good family. You grew up together, remember?
Polina tensed slightly and subtly clenched her fists. Eduard sighed.
— Mother, I am married.
— And what of it? Nobody is saying you should cheat. Divorce and marry Daria. What’s the problem?
Polina set her cup down quietly.
— Margarita Semenovna, are you serious right now?
— Absolutely serious. You are a good girl, Polina, but… too perfect, too ideal. It’s suspicious.
Eduard buried his face in his hands.
— Mother, please. This is nonsense. I love Polina. That’s it.
But the mother-in-law had already caught the scent of a plot:
— I know women. My instincts tell me something is being hidden. And I will uncover the truth.
Polina remained silent. She had long learned that the more passionately she reacted, the greater the chaos.
It didn’t take long for it to become clear: the mother-in-law was indeed scheming. When Eduard left, Polina scrubbed the apartment until it gleamed—not because she “expected someone,” but because she knew Margarita would almost certainly appear in the first few days.
And she did.
The mother-in-law entered, gliding her hand along the carpet’s edge like a strict schoolmistress.
— Aha. Spotlessly clean. So… who are we expecting?
Polina smiled faintly.
— No one. As always.
— Hm-hm. Women don’t clean this diligently for no reason. Especially when their husband is away.
— I simply enjoy order.
— Or you’re waiting for someone.
— My God… who? — Polina smiled wearily. — I haven’t seen anyone, aside from Eduard.
But the mother-in-law was blind to logic. Soon, the second “inspection” began. A few days later, she brought a visitor… Daria—the “perfect candidate” she was determined to push onto her son.
Daria entered, smiling shyly.
— Hello… Polina?
— Nice to meet you — Polina replied, struggling to restrain the urge to usher them both out the door.
The mother-in-law beamed:
— Daria was your best friend as a child, smart, beautiful, skilled in the household! And here is Polina. Well… my son’s temporary wife.
Polina drew a deep breath.
But then something unexpected happened: no rivalry arose between the two women.
Over tea, Daria spoke with a sincere smile:
— Your home feels so welcoming. And the cake is amazing, truly.
Polina returned the smile.
— Thank you. Do you photograph often? I saw your camera.
— Oh yes! I’m a photographer.
— I studied that at university too.
They quickly found common ground. Laughter, stories of travel, cameras, lights…
The mother-in-law sat with a sour expression:
— I can’t believe she’s this perfect…
Yet she still waited, hoping to expose the “real” Polina. The next day, her neighbor—who thrived on drama—called her over.
— Rita, sit down.
— Yes. What happened?
— I saw a man go into Polina’s apartment. He looked to be in his forties. They went in together. I saw it with my own eyes.
— What?!
— It wasn’t just me. All the neighbors saw.
The mother-in-law ignited like a matchstick:
— Eduard returns today… Polina will be surprised.
— Prepare yourself, Rita. Something will happen…
Margarita didn’t listen any further. Five minutes later, she was in a taxi, urging the driver:
— Faster, please! It’s very important.
Only one thought burned in her mind: catch the “betrayal” in the act and open her son’s eyes.
— I will show him! — she muttered under her breath. — How long must I endure this angelic mask?
The mother-in-law stormed into the apartment like a tempest.
— Where is he?! — she shouted, making the walls tremble. — Come out, you treacherous one!
Polina stood calmly, almost unnervingly so.
— Margarita Semenovna, please stop. You are mistaken.
— Mistaken? — the mother-in-law laughed. — We’ll see!
She snapped open the kitchen door and saw a man, around thirty-five. He lifted his head from his cup of tea:
— Uh… hello.
— Ah, it’s you! — the mother-in-law shouted. — While my son is away on business, you with his wife…
— Margarita Semenovna! — Polina raised her voice for the first time. — It’s not what it looks like!
— Of course! He… a repairman? Electrician? Childhood friend?
— Well… almost. Take a breath, and…
But the mother-in-law wouldn’t listen. Then, as if fate intervened, the doorbell rang.
Eduard. He had barely crossed the threshold when his mother lunged at him:
— Son! I saw everything! She betrayed you!
Eduard furrowed his brow.
— Mother, what are you talking about? He walked into the kitchen and saw the man. Suddenly, a wide smile spread across his face:
— Stas! When did you arrive? Long time no see!
The mother-in-law froze.
— Stas? You… know each other?
— Of course! Polina’s cousin. Couldn’t make it to the wedding, remember? Margarita gaped, words suddenly failing her. Daria stepped out from the room.
— We introduced ourselves — she said cheerfully. — Stas showed me his photos from Peru. Incredible photographer!
The mother-in-law looked at Polina, slowly piecing it together:
— So… you invited Daria?
Polina nodded.
— I liked her company. I wanted to introduce her to my brother. Maybe they’d get along. Stas smiled shyly at Daria. Their eyes sparkled. Margarita dropped her hands. Her plan had failed. Polina stepped closer:
— Margarita Semenovna, would you like a cup of tea?
— No… better… better go.
She left almost running, slamming the door behind her. The fresh air hit her face as she stepped into the stairwell. Her heart pounded, as if she had just run a marathon.
She was mortified. Truly. But admitting her own mistake was not in her nature. Then she spotted the neighbor who “saw” the man. Margarita narrowed her eyes:
— Larisa! Come here!
The neighbor approached, contrite.
— Larisa — the mother-in-law said, low but firm — next time before spreading gossip, check the facts. You misled me.
— I… I just thought…
— Exactly — Margarita cut her off — you thought. But facts matter.
Larisa nearly went pale. Margarita turned and walked away. Still furious—but no longer at Polina. Inside her mind, however, one thought lingered:
“Could Polina really be… this perfect? Too perfect? Impossible. There must be a flaw somewhere. There has to be!” Yet, seeing her plan collapse in an instant, she had to admit: Polina was far wiser than she had imagined.
And perhaps… she really did suit her son. Though admitting it aloud was still not in her plans.
