The apartment was filled with the smell of freshly baked cake and aromatic tea.
Twelve people sat around the large table, their laughter and conversations mingling with the joyful sound of cutlery and the clinking of glasses. One of the relatives raised a glass:
— Let’s toast to Mikhail and Svetlana! May you finally have a child! Five years have already passed, and our family still hasn’t grown.
The wife of the man giving the toast leaned toward Mikhail, placed her hand on his, and said sympathetically:
— Maybe you should consider treatment? We know a good doctor. We can call and schedule an appointment.
The relatives heard this suggestion and nodded in approval. Their eyes were fixed on the blushing Mikhail.
Mikhail abruptly rose from his seat. His eyes roamed the living room, jumping from Svetlana to the rest of the family.
— We’ve already checked everything! — His voice trembled, not with emotion, but with irritation.
— There’s no need for any tests. Everything has been done. Unfortunately, my Sveta has serious health problems and will never be able to become a mother. But I love her and… Yes, my wife will not have children, and that’s the end of it.
Silence fell in the room. The relatives looked at Sveta — some with pity, others with venomous resentment. Grandma snorted:
— I said Mikhail married a woman with problems. And you still yelled at me.
— It’s nothing — said Mikhail’s mother, Maria Petrovna, trying to ease the tension. — I love Sveta like my own daughter and I’m very happy she’s in our home.
Sveta felt as if an electric current had struck her. Something inside snapped, cold and final: enough, this can’t go on anymore. Five years ago she was different — young, trusting.
Then, when she discovered the full charms of family life, she believed that everything would naturally fall into place if she just tried.
Maria Petrovna had been delighted from the very beginning: Svetlana, with her medical education, works as a nurse, knows injections and IVs. This turned out to be very practical, because in the next room lay her sick husband.
Of course, Maria Petrovna was pleased. All the responsibilities fell on Sveta’s shoulders: cooking, laundry, endless pots, medications administered on schedule, bandages, waking up at night.
She scrubbed floors on her knees, changed the sheets for her bedridden father-in-law, counted pills, and listened anxiously to his breathing whenever he started to choke.
— We are very lucky — Maria Petrovna would tell the neighbors, as if Sveta were not her daughter-in-law, but a profitable business.
Sveta remembered trying to persuade Mikhail to move out. Quietly, carefully choosing her words: “Let’s try living separately; it will be easier to fix our relationship.”
Maria Petrovna exploded, scolding her — how could she abandon her mother, ungrateful, ruthless. Mikhail didn’t even hesitate, immediately siding with his mother.
Sveta’s mother lived in another region and spoke calmly over the phone, as if reading a rehearsed line:
— It’s normal, darling, every wife carries her own cross.
When Sveta once asked if she could return home, there was silence on the line, and then came:
— Running away from such a “positive” husband would be foolish. I don’t want to explain to everyone later why my daughter did it. Endure.
But today Sveta decided not to endure anymore. She still loved her husband. But what he had said in front of all the relatives became a point of no return, erasing all smoldering feelings.
All the relatives watched as Sveta, unable to hold back her tears, ran out of the living room.
A chair creaked, someone coughed awkwardly, but no one stood up. A moment later, Maria Petrovna hurried after her, breathing heavily and shuffling her slippers across the floor.
The mother-in-law was sure she would find the familiar scene — Sveta curled up with a pillow, arms trembling, ready for a lecture. But the room was quiet.
Sveta sat on the bed, feverishly searching through a folder of documents, pulling out sheets one by one.
— Have you figured something out? — Maria Petrovna said sharply. — He is a man. You must protect his dignity as a loving wife.
She stepped closer, peering over her shoulder.
— If you do what I thought, I will throw you out of the house, ungrateful. We took you in under our roof, tolerated your small nurse’s salary… Where will you go?
Maria Petrovna spoke faster and faster, as if afraid Sveta wouldn’t stop.
— The first sheet is for you — Sveta said, energetically pulling a document from the folder.
She slid the paper straight under her mother-in-law’s nose. It was written in black and white that Sveta was the owner of a three-room apartment in her hometown.
Maria Petrovna squinted, stepped back, and shook her head, as if seeing something absurd.
— What is this supposed to mean? — she asked incredulously. — Don’t play tricks on me.
Sveta slowly straightened up.
— A few years ago my grandmother passed away — she said calmly. — Remember, I left to say goodbye, and you didn’t even ask what happened?
Grandma left me an apartment in inheritance, which I never told anyone about. I first had to pay off a small utility debt to become the rightful owner without any obligations.
I saved a few thousand from my nurse’s salary here and there, and now the apartment is fully mine and free of liabilities.
Maria Petrovna paled and immediately decided to respond.
— So you took money from the household budget? — her voice became shrill. — From the family, quietly, while we live off everything here? How ungrateful…
— For five years I took care of your husband for free. Day and night. No time off, no pay, and indeed — without gratitude. I earned this money myself.
I decided to stay silent about the apartment after I accidentally discovered that the car Mikhail bought on credit, which we are paying from our salaries, is in your name.
Perhaps you can explain, Maria Petrovna, how is that possible? Or you and Mikhail are allowed to scheme, and I am not?
Sveta looked her mother-in-law straight in the eyes.
— That’s when I realized that in this family, people hide things from each other. And pretend it should be that way. No matter — next document is for the relatives.
Sveta returned to the guests, clutching the folder. Conversations quieted on their own, someone awkwardly looked away, but she didn’t stop. She laid the documents on the table and spread them so everyone could see.
— Indeed, we did all the tests a long time ago. It took two years for my husband, who wanted children so much, to agree to see a doctor — Sveta finally broke the silence. — And here are Mikhail’s test results.
The conclusion was clear: Mikhail will never be able to have children. Neither now, nor in the future. Sveta looked at the relatives, who lowered their eyes and exchanged nervous glances.
— He knew this for a long time. And Maria Petrovna knew too. They persuaded me to remain silent because, for a man, as they said, it’s shameful.
A few days later, Sveta sat on the floor in her grandmother’s apartment, going through old things and organizing her own. Dresses in the wardrobe smelled of lavender, buttons rang quietly in the drawer, and time seemed to have stopped.
She picked up a photograph and stared for a long time at the familiar, slightly stern face.
— Thank you, Grandma — she whispered. — For the home. For the strength. For having somewhere to return.
She carefully placed the photo on the windowsill and wiped her eyes with her hand.
— When my daughter is born, I will name her after you — she whispered, and in those words there was not only hope but also confidence.
