“Imagine this—I’ve booked a hotel in Sochi for us! It’s three stars, located right on the beachfront, and just five minutes on foot to the sea!” Marina eagerly showed her husband pictures on her laptop. “Look at the balcony view! And here, the beach—clean and sandy! Plus, breakfast is included!”
Dima barely nodded, distracted by his phone and only occasionally casting a glance at the screen.
“Are you even paying attention?” Marina closed the laptop with a sigh. “For a whole year, I scrimped and saved for this trip. Every month, bit by bit. I gave up dresses and cafe meetings with friends—all to fund our vacation!”
“Yeah, I hear you…” Dima finally set his phone aside. “But there’s one issue. Mom called today. The planting season at the dacha is about to begin, and she’s counting on our help.”
Marina froze, stunned by the news.
“What? Planting? We had an agreement—this year’s sea trip starts June fifteenth, and the tickets are already purchased!”
“We can still go,” Dima said cautiously, avoiding her gaze. “But first, we need to help Mom with the garden for a week. After that, we’ll head off for vacation.”
“A whole week?” Marina laughed nervously. “Dima, have you lost your mind? For three straight years, we spent every vacation working at your mother’s dacha. I toiled endlessly in those beds! This year, I finally saved for a proper break, and now you want to ruin it all?”
“I’m not trying to ruin anything,” Dima grew impatient. “Mom can’t handle it alone! It’s just one week, Marina.”
“One week?” Marina folded her arms. “Remember last year? We supposedly went just for a week, but ended up spending the entire vacation there! Every day your mother found a new chore: painting fences, rebuilding the greenhouse, pruning bushes.”
“You’re exaggerating…”
“I’m not! And how did it end? We harvested a massive crop, only for your mother to give every tomato away to your brother and his family. Not even a jar of pickles came to us! Did your brother ever lend a hand? Even once?”
Dima remained silent, ashamed. Marina’s words hit home. His older brother Anton never pitched in at the dacha but reliably took the fruits.
“Marina, you have to understand, it’s tough for Mom alone…”
“What about me?” Marina stepped closer. “I work full-time, manage the home, cook, clean. All year, I dreamt of just one week by the sea! A real break! Is that too much to ask?”
“But Mom…”
“No, Dima!” Marina shook her head firmly.
“We have to help Mom in the garden. It’s necessary…”
“That’s your problem, not mine! I refuse to help your mother’s garden anymore! If you want to help, go alone. But I will go to the sea as planned!”
“You can’t do that! Such selfishness!” Dima rose from the couch.
“Selfish?” Marina smiled bitterly. “What’s truly selfish is making your wife spend vacations laboring in your mother’s garden while your brother and his family do nothing and still claim the entire harvest!”
Dima grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” Marina asked.
“To Mom’s. Since you refuse to help, I’ll do it alone.”
“Great! Say hi to Natalia Pavlovna for me! And don’t forget to ask why she never asks her eldest son and his wife for help!”
The door slammed behind him. Marina collapsed onto the couch, covering her face with her hands. Fatigue overwhelmed her. She felt neglected by her husband’s priorities and frustrated that her wishes were constantly dismissed in favor of her mother-in-law’s demands.
She reopened her laptop and stared again at the Sochi hotel photos. After three long years of saving, she wasn’t about to let anyone steal her dream vacation—even if it meant going alone.
Key Insight: Sometimes, family obligations can overshadow personal dreams, leading to conflicts that test relationships deeply.
Meanwhile, at Natalia Pavlovna’s modest apartment on the city’s edge, the air was thick with seedlings spread across windowsills, tables, and the floor—plastic cups brimming with tomato, pepper, and eggplant sprouts.
“Dimочка, I’m so glad you came!” she greeted her son warmly, guiding him to the kitchen. “I just brewed some tea. Sit down and tell me, how are you and Marina? Ready for the dacha season?”
Dima sank heavily into a chair, his gaze somber.
“Mom, there’s a problem. Marina refuses to go to the dacha. She insists on going to the sea.”
Her lips pursed, and she slammed a cup onto the table.
“Seriously? She wants to abandon me? Does she expect me to tend the garden all alone at my age?”
“I told her the same,” Dima sighed. “But she’s stubborn. She says she’s spent three years working at your dacha and doesn’t want to anymore.”
“She worked?” Natalia Pavlovna snorted. “A few times weeding, big deal! Who makes the jam? Who pickles the vegetables? I do! And she just turns her nose up at it!”
Dima remained quiet, recalling how Marina had labored extensively while his mother mostly observed in the orchard’s shade. However, he never dared contradict his mother.
“So, what now?” he asked instead.
Leaning in, Natalia Pavlovna’s tone lowered conspiratorially:
“Where does she keep the money she saved for the sea trip?”
“In a piggy bank,” Dima replied. “In our bedroom closet.”
She narrowed her eyes slyly.
“Son, have you considered using that money to solve this issue?”
“What do you mean?” Dima was puzzled.
“Take the money from the piggy bank,” she whispered. “Tell Marina the funds are with you, only return them when she agrees to help at the dacha. It’s fair! She’s your wife; she should support the family.”
Dima frowned.
“Mom, that feels dishonest. She saved that money herself.”
“And is it honest to leave your mother without help?” Natalia Pavlovna threw up her hands in frustration. “I do everything here, and she wants to go to the sea! Such selfishness!”
Dima hesitated but knew arguing was futile. His mother consistently defended her eldest son and dismissed objections.
“Fine,” he conceded. “I’ll do as you say.”
Her smile broadened.
“Good son. You can’t let your wife take control. You’re the man here; you decide how vacations go.”
Dima finished his tea and rose. “I’ll go home. Marina planned to visit her friend soon. I can act without a scene.”
“Go ahead,” Natalia Pavlovna encouraged, accompanying him. “Remember, you’re doing the right thing. A wife must honor family traditions.”
After dusk, Dima returned home to silence—Marina hadn’t come back yet. In the bedroom closet, the piggy bank rested on the top shelf. It was the wooden container where Marina had saved money all year for the trip.
A pang of guilt struck him. Yet he remembered his mother’s words. As head of the family, he had to lead. If Marina refused, he had to compel her.
He carefully retrieved the piggy bank and weighed it in his hands—it was heavy, confirming a significant sum.
Settling on the bed, doubt crept in. Should he really do this? Perhaps he should talk to Marina once again?
“No,” he told himself firmly. “Mother is right. I must show Marina who holds the reins.”
Unlocking the piggy bank, the lid lifted to reveal only coins—no bills.
“What the…” he muttered.
The door slammed nearby as Marina entered.
“Dima? You’re home?” Her voice called out.
He hastily replaced the empty piggy bank and emerged.
“Hi! How’s Sveta?”
“Good,” Marina removed her shoes and headed to the kitchen. “Where were you?”
“At Mom’s. She’s upset you won’t help at the dacha.”
Marina poured water into a glass calmly.
“I’ve told you my stance. Nothing’s changed.”
Dima sat, eyes fixed on her.
“Marina, where is the money from your piggy bank?”
She set the glass down deliberately.
“Why do you ask?”
“Just answer. Where is the vacation money?”
“In a safe place,” she replied. “Why?”
“What kind of safe place? The money should be in the piggy bank!”
“Did you check? Went through my things?”
“I have a right to know where our money is!” he slammed his fist. “Answer now!”
“First, it’s not our money. It’s my savings from my salary. Second, it’s on my card—I put it there this morning.”
“What? Why?”
“I had a suspicion,” Marina shrugged. “Turns out, I was right. You wanted to take my money.”
“I wasn’t!” Dima lied. “Just wanted to know how much was saved.”
“Stop lying.” Marina shook her head. “I know you let your mother persuade you to take the money to blackmail me into helping at the dacha. Am I right?”
Dima fell silent.
“Your silence says it all,” Marina smiled bitterly. “I suspected you might stoop this low but hoped I was wrong.”
“Marina, you don’t understand! Mom really needs assistance. She can’t manage alone.”
“And your brother?” Marina raised an eyebrow. “Why doesn’t he help? Why is it always on us?”
“He has three kids and is busy,” Dima repeated his mother’s justification.
“And what about us?” Marina shook her head. “I’m not against helping, but not every vacation should be free labor where we receive nothing while others benefit.”
“But Mom…”
“Enough, Dima! I’m tired of this,” Marina raised a hand. “I’m going to the sea on June fifteenth as planned, with or without you.”
She stood and went to the bedroom. Dima remained, anger simmering. How dare she challenge him, issue ultimatums?
He grabbed his phone and dialed his mother’s number.
The next morning, Natalia Pavlovna arrived uninvited, entering decisively.
“Where’s the ungrateful one?” she demanded, removing her shoes. “I’m going to give her a ‘vacation’ she won’t forget.”
Marina appeared, drying her hands, her expression steady—neither fear nor regret, just resolve.
“Morning, Natalia Pavlovna. Come in. Coffee? Tea?”
“Tea? I’m not here for tea. I’m here to fix this mess.”
Dima quietly excused himself, looking lost.
“Mom, maybe you shouldn’t…”
“Quiet, Dima. I’ll handle your wife myself.”
In the kitchen, Marina calmly set cups and poured tea, as if unaware of the tension.
“So, Dima told me you refuse to assist with the dacha. What’s going on?”
“Nothing new. I’ve spent every vacation working at your dacha for three years. This year, I want rest. Dima and I decided on the sea.”
“She’s going to the sea,” Natalia Pavlovna shouted. “Who will plant, water, and weed?”
“Maybe your eldest son—Anton—or his wife and kids. They’re old enough to help grandma.”
“Don’t tell me who to ask! Anton has work and three children. He can’t waste his time gardening! His wife manages the house and kids.”
“And what about us? We have jobs and plans, and deserve rest too.”
“What rest? Young and healthy. You just want fun and don’t consider your husband’s mother.”
“I’ve thought about you for three years!” Marina’s voice was firm. “I dug beds, planted, watered, weeded. We spent vacations working in your garden, yet what did we get? Nothing! The entire harvest always goes to Anton and his family.”
“They need it more,” Natalia Pavlovna replied. “They have children.”
“And us?” Marina shook her head. “I’m not saying we shouldn’t help, but it’s unfair to work and have others take all the fruits.”
“How dare you speak about my son like that?” Natalia Pavlovna flushed.
“I’m just telling the truth,” Marina remained composed. “Anton never helps—not him, his wife, or kids. Yet they take all the produce.”
“Dima, do you hear this? Why are you silent?”
Dima glanced between his mother and wife, torn.
“Mom, Marina has a point. Anton really never helps.”
“You’re against your own mother?”
“Not against you. But Marina’s right. We work every year and they get the harvest. It’s not fair.”
“So you’re both against me? Fine! Enjoy your sea trip. I’ll suffer alone at the dacha. When I collapse, don’t expect help.”
“Natalia Pavlovna!” Marina stood too. “We’re not refusing to help entirely. We can come on weekends after vacation but not the entire summer or during our planned break.”
“I don’t want your help! Dima, pack up—you’re coming to live with me.”
Dima was stunned.
“You heard me! I won’t let this woman ruin our family. You’re my son; you belong with me.”
Marina and Dima exchanged looks. Natalia Pavlovna laced her shoes determinedly.
“Mom, I can’t just leave my wife,” Dima protested.
“So you choose her?” Natalia Pavlovna accused. “This ungrateful girl who disrespects the family?”
“Natalia Pavlovna, I’m not disrespecting. I just want my wishes respected too.”
“Quiet!”
“Dima, last chance: will you come with me or stay with her?”
Dima trembled, eyes flickering between them, unable to decide.
“I… can’t decide now.”
“Fine! You’ve made your choice!” Natalia Pavlovna stormed out, slamming the door.
Silence filled the apartment.
“Dima, you can’t decide so quickly?” Marina whispered, sitting on the couch.
Dima followed, looking lost and defeated.
“I don’t know what to do. Mom is right, I should help. But you’re right—we deserve rest.”
“It’s not just rest. Yesterday you tried stealing my money to force me to work in her garden. That’s betrayal.”
Dima bowed his head.
“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”
“I can’t trust you anymore. I can’t live with someone I don’t trust.”
“What?!” Dima looked shocked.
“I’m filing for divorce. I’ve packed. I’ll move today, and on June fifteenth I’m going to Sochi—alone.”
“Marina, no! We can fix this. I’ll talk to Mom.”
“Too late. You’ve shown your choice through your actions. I’ve made mine.”
She grabbed her bag.
“I hope you’re happy with your mother and brother. I’ll be fine without you.”
The door closed behind her. Alone in the empty apartment, Dima realized his indecision had cost him everything. Torn between his mother and wife, he ended up with nothing.
Meanwhile, Marina felt lighter with every step away from the apartment. Ahead lay the sea, sunshine, and a new life—free from manipulation, betrayal, and endless labor in another’s garden.
- Before the vacation, Marina formally filed for divorce and requested property division.
- Natalia Pavlovna and Dima called and messaged repeatedly, but Marina did not respond.
- In the end, Marina received half the apartment and half the car, while all of Dima’s remaining money went to his mother and eldest brother.
This story illustrates the intense conflicts that arise when familial obligations eclipse individual needs. Balancing loyalty to one’s family and respecting personal boundaries is delicate, and failure can lead to irreversible rifts.
Ultimately, a lack of mutual understanding and inability to communicate respectfully led to the dissolution of a marriage and shattered family unity. Everyone involved paid a steep price for unresolved tensions and unequal expectations.
Conclusion: Prioritizing open dialogue, fairness, and respect for each individual’s desires within a family is crucial. Without it, even long-planned dreams and relationships can unravel under the weight of unbalanced duties and unmet expectations.