“Don’t Humiliate Me by Refusing—Mom Has Already Invited Guests to Our Place,” Her Husband Hissed Before the Celebration
“Denis, I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not hosting anyone here,” Alina said, folding her arms across her chest as she watched her husband frantically button his shirt. “My birthday is my birthday. We agreed to spend it together, just the two of us.”
“Alina, don’t start, okay?” Denis tugged irritably at his collar. “Mom has already organized everything. She ordered pies, called your aunt, invited her friends and Uncle Kolya. They’re all coming here. What am I supposed to tell them? That my wife decided to throw a tantrum and lock herself in the bedroom?”
“Tell them the truth. Tell them your wife has worked herself to exhaustion this week, finished the annual report, and simply wants some peace and quiet. And tell them that no one bothered to ask whether she wanted a crowd of people she barely knows in her apartment.”
“They’re not people you barely know. They’re my family! And one of them is your relative, by the way.”
“Aunt Valya, whom I’ve seen three times in my entire life and who asks me every single time why we still haven’t bought a country house? What a wonderful choice for a birthday celebration.”
Denis stepped closer. Red blotches spread across his face from anger.
“You’re selfish. Mom was only trying to do something nice. She spent half the day in the kitchen baking those damn cabbage pies you love!”
“I like cherry pies, Denis. Your mother is the one who likes cabbage pies. She mixed everything up again, just like last year when she gave me a set of cooking pots.”
“Cooking pots are always useful around the house!” Denis snapped. “Anyway, they’ll be here in half an hour. Make yourself presentable. Put on that blue dress Mom chose for you.”
“I’m not wearing it. And I threw that blue dress away a month ago. It was too tight across the chest and unbearably itchy.”
“Alina, you’re pushing your luck,” her husband said, his voice becoming quiet and threatening. “Don’t humiliate me in front of my relatives. If you leave now or lock yourself away, I won’t forget it. It would be disrespectful to me.”
“And ignoring my wish to spend the day at the spa—the spa I earned the money for myself—is respectful?” Alina felt a lump rising in her throat, but she held herself together. She had no intention of crying in front of him again.
“The spa is a ridiculous indulgence. You can lie in the bathtub at home. These people are coming with the best intentions. That’s it. I’m going downstairs to meet Mom at the entrance and help carry her bags. You’d better be ready in ten minutes.”
The door slammed with a deafening crash.
Alina remained standing in the middle of the room. An unopened bathrobe, a gift from her colleagues, lay on the floor. An empty wineglass stood on the bedside table. The evening that was supposed to be perfect was turning into the usual nightmare—serving salads to relatives and listening to advice about the proper way to wash floors.
She walked over to the mirror.
A tired thirty-year-old woman with a pale face stared back at her.
“No,” Alina quietly told her reflection. “Enough.”
She hurried into the hallway, kicked off her slippers, and put on a comfortable pair of sneakers. She grabbed her jacket from the hook and slipped her phone and car keys into her pocket. She didn’t take a handbag. Everything she needed was already in her pockets.
As the elevator descended, her heart pounded somewhere near her throat. She imagined the doors opening and finding her mother-in-law, Tamara Ivanovna, standing there covered in bags of food.
But the ground floor was empty.
Alina slipped outside through the back entrance, walked around the building, and hurried toward her small red car, which was parked beside the neighboring supermarket. She jumped inside, locked the doors, and only then allowed herself to breathe.
The phone in her pocket buzzed.
The screen displayed the name “Denis.”
She rejected the call.
A second later, the phone buzzed again. This time it was her mother-in-law.
Alina switched the device to Do Not Disturb and tossed it onto the passenger seat.
The car started immediately. Alina pulled out of the parking lot and drove toward the city center, although she still had no idea where she was going.
Only one thought kept circling in her mind.
I’m not going back there tonight.
Twenty minutes later, she parked outside a small hotel on the waterfront. A twenty-four-hour spa complex operated on the ground floor—the same spa for which Denis had refused to buy her a gift certificate, calling it a pointless waste of money.
The receptionist, a pleasant young woman with her hair gathered into a smooth bun, smiled at her.
“Good evening. Do you have a reservation?”
“No.” Alina took a heavy breath. “Do you have any availability for an evening program? Right now. I really need it.”
The woman quickly began typing on her keyboard.
“Yes, you’re lucky. One client canceled a massage and sauna appointment. It’s called the ‘Reset’ program. Would that suit you?”
“Perfect. I’ll take it.”
Alina paid by card, feeling a strange, almost childish sense of triumph. It was her own money—her bonus, the one Denis had suggested saving to buy a new set of winter tires for his car.
An hour later, Alina was lying on a massage table in a dimly lit room scented with lavender and mint. The massage therapist kneaded her stiff shoulders with gentle but firm movements.
All her problems—her husband’s shouting, her mother-in-law’s displeasure—suddenly seemed distant and unimportant.
But the relaxation didn’t last long.
As soon as the treatment ended and Alina entered the changing room, she turned on her phone.
The screen was covered with notifications.
Twenty-seven missed calls from Denis. Five from her mother-in-law. Three from Aunt Valya. And an endless stream of messages.
Denis: “Where are you?”
Denis: “Alina, this isn’t funny. Mom is here, and the guests are sitting at the table.”
Denis: “Have you lost your mind? You caused a scandal for absolutely no reason!”
Denis: “Mom’s heart is acting up. She’s taking her drops. Come back immediately. We’ll tell everyone you were delayed at work.”
Denis: “If you don’t come home now, it’s over between us.”
Alina sat on a bench in her terry-cloth robe and stared at the last message.
It’s over between us.
Instead of fear or panic, she felt an unexpected sense of relief. It was as though the heavy stone slab that had been pressing down on her throughout the last three years of marriage had finally cracked.
She dialed her husband’s number.
He answered before the first ring had finished.
“Where the hell have you been?!” Denis shouted so loudly that Alina had to pull the phone away from her ear. “Do you have any idea what’s happening here? Mom is crying, and Uncle Kolya is trying to calm everyone down! You humiliated all of us in front of everyone!”
“Denis, stop shouting,” Alina said calmly. “I’m at the spa. I’m relaxing.”
“You’re where?! Have you lost your mind? People are sitting there eating your pies—I mean, Mom’s pies—waiting for the birthday girl, while you’re warming your backside on a massage table?”
“I warned you, Denis. Three times. I told you I didn’t want any guests. You didn’t listen to me. You decided that your desire to please your mother was more important than my feelings.”
“What does Mom have to do with this?!” her husband shrieked, his voice rising into a falsetto. “There are basic rules of decency! Normal wives don’t behave like this!”
There was a rustling sound on the other end of the line, followed by Tamara Ivanovna’s commanding voice.
“Hello, Alina. I don’t know what has gotten into you, but this has gone far beyond acceptable behavior. Denis does everything for you. He pays for the apartment—”
“The apartment belongs to me, Tamara Ivanovna,” Alina interrupted. “I inherited it from my grandmother. Denis is merely registered here.”
An ominous silence followed.
Apparently, her mother-in-law had not expected such a firm response in front of the guests.
“How ungrateful you are,” Tamara Ivanovna said breathlessly. “We open our hearts to her, and she starts reminding us about square meters. Denis, son, take the phone away from her!”
Her husband grabbed the phone again.
“Listen carefully, Alina. I’m giving you half an hour. If you’re not home in thirty minutes, I’m packing my things and leaving.”
“There’s no need to wait thirty minutes,” Alina replied, feeling a firm, cold determination beginning to boil inside her. “Pack your things right now. Leave your keys on the table in the hallway. And take your mother, Uncle Kolya, Aunt Valya, and all the pies with you. By the time I return, I want everyone out of my apartment.”
“Are you… Are you serious?” Denis stammered. All his confidence had suddenly vanished.
“Completely serious. Pack your things into your suitcases and get out.”
Alina ended the call and blocked her husband’s number.
Then she blocked her mother-in-law.
She stood up, got dressed, and approached the mirror. Her eyes were shining, and a healthy flush had appeared on her cheeks.
It was the best birthday she had experienced in several years.
She was in no hurry to leave.
She went to the hotel café, ordered herself a large slice of cherry cake and a cup of Earl Grey tea, and ate every last crumb while savoring each moment of silence.
She arrived home two hours later.
The windows of her fourth-floor apartment were dark.
Alina took the elevator upstairs, unlocked the door with her key, and switched on the hallway light.
The apartment was filled with perfect, ringing silence.
Denis’s set of keys lay on the table beside the door. Next to them was a lonely white note written in his sprawling handwriting:
You’ll regret this. I’m filing for divorce tomorrow.
Alina smiled, crumpled the note, and threw it into the trash.
She walked into the bedroom. The wardrobe was empty. Denis had taken his suits and shoes.
The only thing remaining on the kitchen table was a cardboard pie box, which they had apparently forgotten in their hurry.
It was empty.
Alina opened the window and allowed the fresh evening air to flow into the room.
Freedom smelled like spring and rain.
She lay down on the sofa, stretched out her legs, and, for the first time in a very long while, felt completely happy in her own home.
