– What is this? – Valera pushed away the plate with dinner, grimacing, as if he saw in it not a stew, but something inedible.
“Ragu,” Ksenia raised her surprised gaze from her portion. “The same thing I’ve cooked dozens of times before. Is something wrong?”
– The meat is tough, – Valera shook his head. – And there are not enough spices. Mom makes it so that the meat just melts in your mouth. And the aroma is such that your mouth starts to water right from the doorway.
Ksenia froze with a fork in her hand. In three years of marriage and a year of living together before the wedding, Valera had never criticized her cooking. On the contrary, he always praised her, asked for more, was happy when she cooked his favorite dishes. And now, just two months after the wedding, he suddenly started being picky.
“You used to like my stew,” she reminded him, trying to remain calm.
“I had nothing to compare it to before,” Valera shrugged. “But recently my mother cooked it again, and I realized the difference.”
Ksenia put down her fork. In recent weeks, this was already the fifth or sixth dish that Valera had compared to his mother’s, invariably drawing a conclusion that was not in his wife’s favor.
“It’s strange that you only noticed this now,” she tried to speak without reproach. “We’ve been together for four years. Have you really been suffering all this time, but tolerated my cooking?”
Valera was confused, but quickly found his way:
– It’s just that when you get married, you start to look at everything differently. Now you’re my wife, not just a girl. You have to measure up.
– Correspond to what? – Ksenia frowned. – Or to whom?
“Well… to a certain level,” Valera answered evasively. “You’re the mistress of the house now.”
Ksenia remembered how a week ago Valera criticized her for cleaning the house, and before that, that he didn’t like the wallpaper she chose for the hallway. And each time he cited his mother as an example.
“Do you want me to be like Zinaida Mikhailovna?” she asked directly.
– What’s wrong with that? – Valera was genuinely surprised. – Mom is an ideal woman. She can do everything, takes care of everyone, creates comfort. You can learn a lot from her.
Ksenia silently cleared the dishes from the table. A year ago, Valera admired her independence and modern views. He said he was tired of girls who could only cook borscht and wash floors. He called her “a breath of fresh air.” Where did all that go?
“This Sunday, Mom is coming to visit,” Valera said casually, looking at his phone. “She promised to show you how to cook properly.”
– Really? – Ksenia stopped, holding a stack of plates in her hands. – And when did you discuss this?
– We spoke on the phone this afternoon, – Valera didn’t even look up from the screen. – She’s worried that I’m not eating well.
“Because I’m a bad cook,” Ksenia finished for him.
– I didn’t say that.
“But I thought,” Ksenia put the dishes in the sink with such a bang that Valera flinched. “And I told my mother too, since she’s going to teach me.”
– Ksyusha, come on, – Valera finally tore himself away from the phone. – Mom just wants to help you.
Zinaida Mikhailovna arrived on Sunday at exactly noon with bags full of food, which made it even colder. As if there was nothing in their refrigerator.
“Valera looks haggard,” she said, hugging her son. “They’re not feeding you enough, my darling, I see.”
Ksenia gritted her teeth but remained silent.
– Ksyusha, my dear, I brought real beef from a trusted man, from whom we buy, – the mother-in-law took out an impressive piece of meat. – You need to beat it correctly, then it will be soft. Watch and learn.
The next two hours turned into torture for Ksenia. Zinaida Mikhailovna commanded the kitchen like a general, criticized her daughter-in-law’s every move and constantly told her how important it is for a woman to be able to please her husband at the table.
“Valera likes it when there’s more paprika in the stew,” she instructed. “And be sure to add rosemary.”
“Interesting,” Ksenia couldn’t help but comment. “For four years, Valera ate my stew without rosemary and never asked for more paprika.”
“He just didn’t want to offend you,” Zinaida Mikhailovna smiled. “Men are so delicate when it comes to the feelings of their beloved.”
Valera, who was sitting in the next room watching TV, did not react to this dialogue in any way. In the evening, when her mother-in-law left, leaving behind a perfectly clean kitchen and three containers of food, Ksenia felt completely devastated.
“Your mother thinks I’m clumsy,” she said to Valera.
“She just wants you to fit in with me, marriage, and she just wants to help you,” he dismissed as usual. “By the way, the stew turned out delicious. That’s what experience means!”
Ksenia remained silent. One thought was spinning in her head: “What’s happening to my husband?”
Zinaida Mikhailovna’s visits became a weekly ritual. Every Sunday she showed up with new products, recipes, and unsolicited advice. Ksenia noticed that her mother-in-law was gradually expanding her sphere of influence — from the kitchen to her daughter-in-law’s wardrobe.
“Ksenia, my dear, this sweater does not emphasize your figure at all,” Zinaida Mikhailovna said during one of her visits, looking her over from head to toe. “When I was your age, I wore fitted dresses. Men like to see femininity in their wives.”
“I’m comfortable in a sweater,” Ksenia answered dryly, continuing to chop vegetables for the salad.
“Comfort and beauty are different things,” the mother-in-law took a bundle out of her enormous bag. “I brought you a dress. I think Valera will like it.”
The dress turned out to be an exact copy of what Zinaida Mikhailovna herself wore in family photographs from twenty years ago. Beige, with a stand-up collar and three-quarter sleeves.
“Very… conservative,” Ksenia carefully placed the dress on the chair. “But it’s not my style.”
– What’s your style? These jeans and stretched sweaters? – Zinaida Mikhailovna pursed her lips disapprovingly. – Valera was raised differently. He’s used to seeing a woman as feminine and elegant.
“Before the wedding, he liked the way I dressed,” Ksenia objected.
“Men are willing to tolerate a lot before marriage,” the mother-in-law snapped.
In the evening, when Zinaida Mikhailovna left, Valera looked intently at his wife:
– Why didn’t you try on the dress your mother brought? She was offended.
“I’m not a doll that needs to be dressed up,” Ksenia folded her arms across her chest.
—————————————
– Mom just wanted to make you happy. She looked amazing at your age. I even have photos.
“And you want me to turn into an exact copy of her?” Ksenia felt irritation growing inside her.
“I want you to listen to the advice of an experienced woman,” Valera raised his voice. “Mom created an ideal family, raised me, always supported my father. And you always resist!”
“Because I am me!” Ksenia exclaimed. “Not your mother, not a copy of anyone else! If you wanted a housewife in a dress with a stand-up collar, why did you marry me?”
Valera silently went into another room, slamming the door. At night they slept on opposite ends of the bed, not touching each other.
The next week passed in tense silence. Ksenia noticed that Valera was staying late at work more and more often, and when he returned, the first thing he did was call his mother. One day, returning home earlier than usual, she found her husband and mother-in-law in their apartment.
“What’s going on?” Ksenia asked, looking at the rearrangement in the living room.
“Mom helped me rearrange the furniture,” Valera replied. “It’s much cozier this way, isn’t it?”
The living room, which Ksenia had arranged with such love, now resembled an exact copy of the room from Zinaida Mikhailovna’s house. The same curtains, the same arrangement of furniture, even the pillows on the sofa lay exactly the same.
“You didn’t even ask me,” Ksenia felt a lump rising in her throat.
“I wanted to surprise you,” Valera looked genuinely surprised by her reaction. “Mom says this arrangement harmonizes the space.”
– And my opinion doesn’t interest you? – Ksenia could hardly contain her emotions. – This is my home too!
“Of course it’s yours, my dear,” Zinaida Mikhailovna intervened. “That’s exactly why I’m helping. A woman should create coziness in the home, and you…”
– And what about me? – Ksenia turned to her mother-in-law. – What’s wrong with the way I arranged our house?
– Everything is so, just a little… youthful, – Zinaida Mikhailovna smiled indulgently. – With experience comes the understanding that a house is a reflection of the woman who is the mistress of it.
“Or the man who is the boss in him,” Ksenia retorted. “Or his mother, who is trying to command in someone else’s house.”
– Ksyusha! – Valera stepped forward. – Apologize immediately!
— For what? Because I don’t want to turn into a copy of your mother? — Ksenia raised her voice. — Every day you demand more and more that I cook like her, dress like her, furnish the house like her! What next? Will I speak with the same intonation? Do the same hairdo?
– No need to overdo it! – Valera clenched his fists. – Mom is just showing how a real wife should behave!
– So, I’m not real? – Ksenia grabbed her bag. – So! I need some fresh air. Continue turning my apartment into a museum of your childhood.
She went out, leaving her husband and mother-in-law in the living room.
Ksenia returned home after midnight. The apartment greeted her with silence – Zinaida Mikhailovna had left, and Valera, judging by the light in the bedroom, was already asleep. She quietly went to the bathroom, washed herself and looked at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. The woman in the reflection seemed like a stranger to her – lost, cornered. When did she allow herself to become like that?
“Where have you been?” Valera’s voice made her shudder.
He stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. In the semi-darkness his face seemed carved from stone, hard and motionless.
“I was out for a walk,” Ksenia answered simply. “I needed to clear my head.”
– Until one o’clock in the morning? – Valera narrowed his eyes. – Do you even understand what this looks like? Mom left upset. She wanted the best, and you just up and left.
– What’s best for whom? – Ksenia turned to him. – For you? For her? Definitely not for me.
“You’ve become so selfish,” Valera shook his head. “You used to be different.”
– No, Valera, – Ksenia came out of the bathroom, passing him. – I’ve always been like this. You just accepted it before. Even more – you liked it. And now you need a meek doll, a copy of your mother.
Valera followed her into the bedroom:
– Mom just wants to teach you how to be a good wife.
– And who decides what a good wife is? – Ksenia began to change into her pajamas, not paying attention to his presence. – Your mother? Or maybe I have the right to determine this myself?
– You’re turning everything upside down on purpose, – Valera raised his voice. – Mom has a lot of experience, she lived with Dad for thirty years in a happy marriage!
“And that’s great,” Ksenia buttoned the last button on her pajamas. “But I’m not your mother. And I don’t want to be. I have my own path, my own ideas about what a family should be like.”
“Apparently, these ideas do not include respect for the husband and his parents,” Valera quipped.
“And your ideas don’t include respect for your wife and her personality,” Ksenia retorted. “You know what’s funniest? Before the wedding, it was my independence that you admired. You said that other girls were too proper, boring, predictable. And now you’re trying to force me into the same framework.”
Valera gritted his teeth:
— After marriage, a lot changes. You have to take responsibility, become more mature.
– More mature – yes. Losing myself – no, – Ksenia sat on the edge of the bed. – Tell me honestly, Valera. Was it your mother who insisted that you start “re-educating” me? Or did you suddenly decide that I’m not good enough?
Valera looked away, and this gesture said more to Ksenia than any words.
“That’s what I thought,” she said quietly. “You know, your mother called me at work today. She said she wanted to have a ‘girl talk’. I agreed to meet her at a café. Did she tell you anything about it today?”
Valera looked at her in surprise:
– No! What were you talking about?
“That I’m not worthy of you,” Ksenia smiled bitterly. “That I’m too modern, too independent, too different. She said straight out that I’ll never be able to make you happy if I don’t start following her example.”
“Mom couldn’t have said that,” Valera frowned.
– Of course she could, – Ksenia stood up and came up close to him. – Do you know what’s most offensive? Not that she thinks so, but that you agree with her. You married me, and now you’re trying to turn me into your mother.
– Don’t talk nonsense!
– This is not nonsense, Valera. This is the truth. And it became especially clear when your mother went to visit her sister for two weeks, and you started picking on me three times more. As if you were trying to prove to her that you were still following her orders.
Valera’s face distorted with anger:
– You’re just jealous of my mother! You’re envious of our relationship!
“No,” Ksenia shook her head. “I’m not jealous. I just see that I’m becoming the odd one out in my own marriage. The third odd one out – after you and your mother.”
– Stop insulting my mother! – Valera clenched his fists.
– I’m not insulting. I’m stating a fact, – Ksenia didn’t back down. – You and she decided what your wife should be like, and now you’re trying to squeeze me into that framework. And if it doesn’t work, I’m bad.
– You refuse to be a real wife!
– And you refuse to be a real husband! – Ksenia shouted. – A real man does not allow his mother to interfere in his family! Does not try to make a copy of his mother out of his wife!
Valera turned purple:
— Shut up!
“No, I won’t shut up!” Ksenia felt the resentment that had accumulated over the months boiling inside her.
– And I said…
– Do you want to make a copy of your mommy out of me? Well, you won’t succeed! Run and hide under her skirt!
Valera’s hand shot up into the air, but stopped a centimeter from Ksenia’s face. They both froze, looking at each other with wide eyes, realizing how close they had come to the line.
“You…” Valera slowly lowered his hand, his voice trembling with tension. “You’ll regret these words.”
– No, – Ksenia took a step back. – You will regret that you could not accept me as I am. That you allowed your mother to destroy our marriage.
Valera silently left the bedroom. A few minutes later, Ksenia heard him open the closet in the hallway. Then the sounds of things being moved, a suitcase being zipped up. When she left the bedroom, Valera was already standing at the door with a bag in his hands.
“I’m filing for divorce,” he said dryly. “You’re right. We shouldn’t continue this relationship.”
“I agree,” Ksenia nodded, surprised by her own calm. “It will be better for both of us.”
Six months flew by for Ksenia surprisingly quickly. The divorce was finalized without any unnecessary delays – Valera did not lay claim to the apartment bought with her money, and she did not demand her husband’s car. Everything happened quietly and routinely, without scandals and showdowns. Zinaida Mikhailovna tried to intervene – she called, wrote angry messages, even came to the door of the apartment, but Ksenia was adamant. No one could dictate to her how to live anymore.
Spring brought not only warmth, but also new perspectives. Ksenia got a promotion at work, signed up for photography courses — her long-time hobby, which Valera considered a waste of time — and completely updated the interior of the apartment. No beige curtains or fancy figurines — only bright colors, minimalism, and comfort.
That day she was returning from a photo walk in the park. It was a sunny day, and she took dozens of pictures of blossoming trees. For the first time in a long time, Ksenia felt truly happy.
– Ksyusha?
She turned around and saw Valera. He was standing at the entrance to the cafe, holding a bag of groceries. He looked haggard and faded, not at all like the self-confident man she knew.
“Hello,” she paused, not knowing how to react to this meeting.
“You… look good,” Valera looked at her with some surprise. “You’re practically glowing.”
“Thank you,” Ksenia smiled. “How are you?”
“It’s fine,” he shrugged. “I live with my mom, I just found a suitable apartment, I haven’t moved in yet. Everything is stable at work.”
There was an awkward pause. Ksenia noticed that Valera did not look like a happy person. His gaze darted, he shifted nervously from one foot to the other.
“Would you like some coffee?” he suggested unexpectedly. “Let’s just talk. Like old friends.”
Ksenia thought for a moment. Six months ago she would have refused, but now she felt strong enough to face the past.
“Why not,” she agreed.
The café was not crowded. They sat down at a table by the window and ordered coffee. Valera looked like a man who had something to say but didn’t know how to start.
“I’ve seen your photos on social media,” he finally said. “Very beautiful. You always took good photos.”
“Now I have time to do what I love,” Ksenia answered, stirring her coffee.
– Ksyusha, I… – Valera hesitated. – I wanted to apologize to you. I behaved like an idiot.
Ksenia looked up at him:
— What has changed?
“I changed,” he answered quietly. “I started going to a psychologist. I understood a lot about myself, about my relationship with my mother. It turned out that I have a serious problem with boundaries, with dependence on my mother’s approval.
– And how did Zinaida Mikhailovna react to your visits to the psychologist? – Ksenia couldn’t resist asking.
– Bad, – Valera smiled sadly. – She said that it was all nonsense, that psychologists were just pumping money out of me. We often quarrel now. I rented an apartment on the other side of town so that we could see each other less often.
Ksenia raised her eyebrows in surprise:
– So, you finally got the courage to confront her?
– Not right away, – Valera admitted. – I lived in a fog for a long time. I believed that you were to blame for everything, that you destroyed our family with your stubbornness. Then I dated a couple of girls, tried to build relationships, but each time it ended the same way – my mother interfered, I started comparing, demanding… and the girls left. Just like you.
He took a sip of coffee, collecting his thoughts:
— And then I met Anya. She’s a psychologist. At first we just talked, then I became her patient. She helped me see this unhealthy connection with my mother. And how I destroyed our marriage.
“I’m glad you realized it,” Ksenia said sincerely. “I really am.”
– Ksyusha, – Valera looked her straight in the eyes, – I understand that I’m asking for the impossible, but… Maybe we could try everything again? I’ve changed. Really. I’m not trying to remake anyone anymore.
Ksenia looked closely at her ex-husband. There was hope and sincere remorse in his eyes. She knew that Valera was telling the truth – he had really changed. But she had changed too.
“Valera, I appreciate your honesty,” she said softly. “And your desire to become better. But our paths diverged. I finally found myself, learned to live the way I want. Without looking back at other people’s opinions, without trying to live up to someone’s expectations. I don’t want to go back to the past, even if it promises to be different.
Valera lowered his eyes:
– I thought so. But I had to try.
“You know,” Ksenia smiled slightly, “you gave me a kind of gift. If you hadn’t tried to make me a copy of your mother, I might never have found the strength to defend my individuality. So… Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he smiled bitterly. “I’m glad at least someone felt better because of it.”
They finished their coffee, exchanging news about mutual friends. When it was time to say goodbye, Valera asked:
– Are you happy, Ksyusha?
She thought for a moment, then nodded.
– Yes. For the first time in a long time, I’m really happy. And you?
“I’m learning to be happy,” he replied. “I’m learning to be myself, and not an extension of my mother’s ambitions. It’s hard, but… It’s worth it.”
They left the café and went their separate ways. Ksenia walked home, thinking about how strange life can be sometimes. Sometimes you have to lose something to find yourself. Sometimes the most painful lessons become the most valuable.
The next day she received a message from Valera: “Thank you for meeting. I’m glad you’re happy. You deserve it.”
Ksenia smiled and sent back a simple: “You too”…
