Victoria carefully, almost holding her breath, used tweezers to place tiny tufts of stabilized moss into the cracks of the dried driftwood.
Her work demanded complete stillness; even the slightest tremor could ruin the entire composition.
Creating underwater landscapes was a craft for the patient — for those who could wait as nature slowly took shape in human hands.
On the table before her rose a miniature cliff made of black, porous volcanic lava stone. It looked like a fragment of some alien planet, just emerging from an imaginary ocean.
The door suddenly burst open. It didn’t creak — it flew inward, the handle slamming dully against the wall. Ludmila Stepanovna didn’t enter rooms — she invaded them, like a draft on a scorching summer day.
In her hands she held a towel, with which she was drying her dry, sinewy fingers.
— That smell again, — she said, without looking at her daughter-in-law, instead scanning the shelves with a sharp, probing gaze. — Your glue. The whole apartment reeks of chemicals. It gives me migraines, Vika.
Victoria slowly set the tweezers down. She knew: the glue had no smell. It was a special cyanoacrylate gel, it set instantly without evaporation. But facts didn’t matter here. In this apartment, truth only had weight when it came from the mother-in-law.
— I’ll air it out right away, — Victoria replied softly, turning in her chair. — Sorry. It’s an urgent order, I have to deliver it by morning.
— You’ll air out the warmth too, — the mother-in-law snapped, stepping closer and touching the lava stone with disgust. — Stones, branches… A grown woman playing with trinkets. Andrei will come home hungry, and you’ve got a forest on the table.
— Dinner is ready. The cutlets are in the fridge, the side dish is in the multicooker. Andrei likes it hot, I calculated everything.
Ludmila Stepanovna pressed her lips together. It was obvious: she was searching for something to criticize. Like someone picking through grains, looking for flaws.
— Cutlets… — she dragged the word out. — Meat is expensive these days. You’d be better off thinking about the budget, Vika, not moss. Andrei complained yesterday that his winter tires are worn out. And you just keep gluing stones.
Victoria took a deep breath. Patience was part of her profession. But even basalt cracks under pressure over time.
— Ludmila Stepanovna, my work brings in money. We discussed the tires. Andrei said he’ll get through this season. Can we not start the evening with complaints? I really try not to bother anyone.
The mother-in-law snorted mockingly.
— She “tries”… You’re doing a poor job if a mother has to give her son money for gas.
She left the door open — deliberately. There were no boundaries here.
Victoria stood up to close it, but froze. The front door slammed. Andrei was back.
The man brought with him the smell of metal shavings and machine oil. He worked as a laser cutting operator, and that smell was embedded in his skin. Victoria usually liked it — the scent of work and reality. But today something else mixed into it: beer and tension.
They sat in the kitchen. The lamp buzzed like an annoying fly.
— Vika, put the phone down, — Andrei said suddenly, his voice dull.
— I’m not even using it. What happened?
The mother-in-law sat down across from them, placing her hands on the table like a judge before delivering a verdict.
— What happened, — she began, — is that today Andrei wanted to pay for spare parts. There was no money on the card. We looked into it. And found something interesting. Vika… why are you sneaking around?
Victoria tensed.
— Please choose your words carefully.
— Three hundred thousand on your savings account! I saw the notification!
Victoria looked at Andrei. She waited. For just one sentence. But the man stared at his plate.
— Andrei?
— Vika… I’m borrowing from others, and you… secretly saving?
— We agreed on shared expenses. This is my money.
— Safety? From whom? — hissed the mother-in-law. — There will be no secrets in this house!
— No, — said Victoria.
The word fell heavily onto the table.
— What do you mean no?! — Andrei snapped.
— Your mother is perfectly healthy when it comes to making scandals. We insulated the balcony last year. And the lens is the factory’s responsibility… unless you were doing side jobs.
— How dare you! — shouted the mother-in-law. — Transfer the money immediately!
She tried to grab the phone.
Victoria reacted instantly, catching her wrist.
— Don’t touch me!
— You hit my mother?! — Andrei roared.
— I held her! And you’re a coward! It’s convenient for you: your mother feeds you, your wife serves you!
— Get out! — screamed the mother-in-law.
Andrei grabbed Victoria’s shoulder.
— Apologize!
— Take your hand off me.
The man let go.
— I’m leaving, — said Victoria.
— And where will you go?! — the mother-in-law shouted.
Victoria packed in silence. Everything was ready. Documents, tools.
— I’ve already rented an apartment.
Andrei’s face twisted.
— You planned this?!
— I was looking for an exit. And I found one.
— You’re leaving the money here!
— Try it.
The man froze.
Victoria moved forward. With a firm motion, she pushed past him.
— Let me through.
The door slammed behind her.
Three months later.
Victoria stood in her own studio. A huge aquarium filled the wall — a living, breathing landscape. Her business had taken off.
The doorbell rang. It was Andrei.
Worn out, tired.
— Vika… there’s trouble.
— Go on.
— I broke the machine. 350 thousand. Or court.
Silence.
— And?
— Will you help?
— I don’t have the money.
— You spent it?!
— I invested in myself.
At that moment, a man appeared — the lawyer.
— The divorce papers are ready.
Andrei looked stunned.
— You’re really divorcing me?
— Yes.
— The apartment… — the lawyer continued — Andrei has a share in it too.
— My mother said…
— She lied, — said Victoria.
— If there’s a lawsuit, your share will be auctioned, — the lawyer added.
Andrei turned pale.
Victoria smiled.
— This isn’t hell, Andrei. This is reality.
The door closed. Two locks. Secure.
