The June sunlight poured into the airy kitchen as Anna slowly brewed her morning coffee. The foam bubbled up in the cezve, filling the apartment with the rich, familiar scent of freshly made coffee.
Igor appeared in the doorway, casually buttoning his shirt.
“Good morning! That smells amazing!” he said.
Anna poured the coffee into cups, knowing well how much Igor appreciated her skill at making the perfect cup.
“How did you sleep?” she asked, setting a cup in front of him and taking her seat beside him.
“Like a dream. By the way, my mother called yesterday while you weren’t home.”
Anna took a cautious sip, bracing herself. Calls from her mother-in-law rarely brought good news.
“Anything wrong?”
“Not really. She just wanted to know if you could drive her to the clinic tomorrow morning—she has an appointment at nine.”
Anna froze, cup halfway to her lips. Tomorrow, she had an important client presentation—something she’d been preparing for weeks.
“Igor, that’s impossible. You know about the meeting.”
“Oh, Anya, it’s just Mom,” Igor replied, his tone carrying a hint of reproach. “She doesn’t ask for help often. Can’t you do this one favor?”
“What about a taxi? Or Lena? She’s free.”
“Lena’s busy with the kids, and a taxi? Why waste money when family can help?”
Anna sighed deeply. These conversations were becoming more frequent. What began as small favors—picking up medicine, helping with cleaning, driving to the dacha—had gradually snowballed.
“Fine, I’ll try to reschedule,” she relented, though inside she felt the strain.
“Great!” Igor smiled, pleased. “I’m lucky to have such an understanding wife. You know how important family is.”
He spoke the word “family” with special warmth—something he’d emphasized since the start of their relationship, always stressing closeness and support.
That very evening, a call came from Lena, Igor’s sister.
“Anya, could you watch the kids on Saturday? My husband and I finally got tickets to the theater.”
Anna was about to visit her own parents, who had invited them for lunch weeks ago.
“Lena, I’m sorry, but we planned to see my—”
“Oh, come on! Your parents can wait,” Lena interrupted petulantly. “I don’t ask often. The kids adore you.”
Anna glanced at the calendar. It had been a month since she last saw her parents.
“Alright,” she agreed.
When Igor came home that night, Anna told him about Lena’s request.
“Good for you,” he said approvingly. “Lena really needs a break; she’s with the kids all day.”
“And what about me?” Anna whispered.
“Oh, you’re at the office all day—that’s different,” Igor replied dismissively.
Anna stayed silent. Arguing felt pointless.
A week later, her father-in-law, Viktor Mikhaylovich, called.
“Annyushka, our car broke down. Could we borrow yours for a couple of weeks?”
Anna was stunned. Without her car, her life would stall—she had meetings all over town.
“Viktor Mikhaylovich, I can’t manage without it. My schedule’s packed.”
“Oh, dear, the metro’s fine! We’re family—we help each other.”
Later, she confronted Igor.
“How am I supposed to work without my car? Presentations, meetings…”
“It’s temporary. Your dad needs it. You can manage for family.”
Anna saw her life slipping into a pattern of constant sacrifice. Every refusal met with the reminder: “We’re family.”
The real test came when Anna finally earned a promotion she’d worked years to achieve—department head.
Excited, she told Igor, “Now we can finally take that trip to Europe we dreamed of.”
Igor’s smile faded.
“My parents want to renovate the kitchen. And Katya’s wedding’s coming. They’ll need financial help now that you have a bigger salary.”
Anna froze. Once again, his family’s needs took precedence over their shared dreams.
“So you want me to give my money for their renovations and a wedding?”
Igor shrugged.
“We’re family.”
Anna looked at him as if seeing a stranger. When had their own dreams faded beneath the weight of his relatives’ demands?
That night, she oscillated between memories of their shared hopes and the reality of endless favors.
“We need to talk,” she said firmly entering the room where Igor was watching TV.
“About what?” he asked, not looking up.
“Our relationship. Our money. Our plans.”
Igor switched off the TV reluctantly.
“Why are you upset? Family support is normal.”
“No, it isn’t,” Anna replied, sitting down. “This is my income. I worked hard for that promotion.”
“Now you want to control everything?” Igor stood abruptly. “You’ve changed, Anya. You only think of yourself.”
His words cut deep. Anna clenched her fists.
“I think of us. Our plans. The journey we promised.”
“When will you have time to dream?” he scoffed. “Your sister’s wedding’s soon, and my parents need help.”
“And what about us? Our family? Our dreams?”
“Enough!” Igor raised his voice. “In a normal family, a wife helps her husband’s relatives. It’s right.”
The days that followed felt like a silent war. Anna left for work before dawn, returned late at night to darkness and cold silence. Igor ignored her.
His mother, Nina Pavlovna, wasn’t idle either—daily calls berating her daughter-in-law.
“Your manners are gone. In my day, we knew our place.”
Anna pretended not to hear, burying herself in work, where she was valued for her skill, not criticized for selfishness.
Their fifth anniversary came and went. Anna hoped it might change things.
But that evening she found Igor at the kitchen table, arms crossed, tense.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said with a heavy sigh.
Anna froze. This conversation felt ominous.
“You have your opinions,” he continued, “but family means support.”
He paused, waiting. Anna said nothing.
“My mother gave me everything—sleepless nights, three jobs for my education. How can I not help her now?”
“And Katya’s wedding. She’s twenty. A milestone. We have enough to help.”
Each word hit Anna like a blow.
“You’re my wife, not someone else’s,” she said coldly.
Igor rolled his eyes.
“Always about money with you. That’s all you care about,” he sneered.
That night, Anna couldn’t sleep, lying awake recalling missed visits, lent money, sacrifices.
The next morning, she woke early and packed a large suitcase. Igor watched with a mocking smile.
“What’s this? A defiant show?”
“I’m leaving,” she said calmly, locking it.
He laughed.
“You’re dramatic. You don’t mean it.”
Without a word, Anna walked past him, heading for the door.
“Are you serious?” he asked, voice shaky.
Within an hour, she stood in her old studio apartment—the small place she’d bought to rent out. Now, it was a sanctuary. No one demanded, judged, or scolded her here.
For the first time in a long while, she felt free. No more justifying every penny. No more sacrificing herself.
Weeks turned to months. Anna immersed herself in work, friends, and self-care. Life brightened again.
Three months later, Igor called late one night.
“Let’s talk. I understand now. I’ll change.”
Anna smiled at her phone.
“Too late,” she whispered. “Too late.”
Igor missed the point. It wasn’t refusal to help that broke them—it was how he’d stopped seeing her as a person, treating her as a resource for his family.
Their anniversary passed unnoticed. Igor forgot the date. Anna spent it working and later walking by the river, feeling the breeze and watching the sunset.
Instead of sadness, she felt liberation—like a heavy weight lifted. This life was hers now. No compromises. Just happiness.
Anna opened the airline website. Her vacation was in a week. Time to chase the dream of traveling Europe—alone, but on her terms.