My Husband Mocked My Mother in Front of Everyone, but He Didn’t Expect Me to Tell Everyone About His Mother at Her Anniversary
— And I told her, “Galina Petrovna, you should’ve put that miracle filter on your head instead of a tinfoil hat! For one hundred and fifty thousand rubles, it would definitely protect you from any radiation!” Roman roared with laughter as he poured the guests more wine.
— Can you imagine, guys? Some crooks showed up at her apartment, did a little trick with dirty water in a glass, and she signed a loan agreement right there in her kitchen! One hundred and fifty grand for a piece of plastic filled with charcoal!
I slammed both palms on the table. The forks and plates rattled loudly.
— Have you completely lost your mind? — I shouted, jumping abruptly to my feet. — Shut up right now!
A heavy silence settled over the table. Autumn rain drummed against our kitchen window, but at that moment the sound seemed deafening.
Our guests, Oleg and his wife Yulia, exchanged awkward glances. Yulia nervously adjusted her napkin.
Roman didn’t even flinch. He looked at me with complete composure, calmly put a piece of roasted meat into his mouth, and slowly chewed it.
— Ksyusha, sit down and stop throwing a tantrum over nothing, — my husband said in a flat, icy voice. — We’re among friends. I’m telling a true story. Your mother did something incredibly stupid. She wanted clean water and trusted some ordinary door-to-door salesmen. That’s a fact. And objectively, it’s funny.
— Funny?! — I felt my face burning with anger, everything boiling inside me. — My mother is sixty-eight years old! She worked as a tram driver her entire life. She’s used to trusting people! Those bastards pressured her for three hours, frightening her with rusty pipes and terrible test results! Her blood pressure shot up to nearly two hundred when she realized what she had done! Yesterday I had to call an ambulance because she could barely breathe from shame and fear over that loan! And you’re sitting here laughing at her?
— Oleg, you tell me, — Roman demonstratively turned away from me and addressed his friend. — Would your mother-in-law let random men into her apartment? Would she sign papers for one hundred and fifty thousand at eighty percent annual interest?
Oleg cleared his throat, rubbed his neck, and lowered his eyes.
— Well, Rom, things happen. Older people are more suggestible… Scammers come up with such clever schemes these days that even young people fall for them.
— Oh, come on! — Roman waved him off. — That’s basic ignorance! Things like this need to be discussed openly so other people don’t make the same mistake. I believe in honesty. Stupidity should be called stupidity. If someone willingly hands their money over to the first stranger who comes along, then there’s clearly something wrong with their judgment. Hiding it only encourages idiocy! Right, Yulia?
— Why do you have to be so harsh? — Yulia muttered quietly, twisting the napkin in her hands. — Galina Petrovna is a good woman. She’s already having a hard time. Why make it public?
— Because I hate hypocrisy! — Roman snapped.
— Oh, you hate hypocrisy?! — I walked around the table and stood directly in front of my husband, staring him straight in the eyes. I was shaking with fury. — So you’re all about honesty? About openly discussing other people’s mistakes?
— Exactly, Ksenia. Your hysterics won’t pay off your mother’s loan. I’m simply stating facts, — Roman said, taking a sip from his glass, his entire demeanor showing complete disregard for my feelings.
— Dear guests, I’m sorry, but the evening is over, — I said loudly and clearly, looking at Oleg and Yulia. — I need to have a very serious conversation with my perfectly honest husband. Alone.
Oleg and Yulia jumped to their feet with obvious relief. They quickly said goodbye, muttering something about the bad weather and having to get up early for work the next morning, and practically fled into the hallway.
When the front door slammed behind them, I returned to the kitchen.
Roman was sitting casually, leaning back in his chair.
— Why did you kick them out? — he asked coldly. — You embarrassed us in front of our friends because of your own issues.
— I embarrassed us? You were sitting there publicly humiliating my mother! A woman who has never said a bad word to you in her life! A woman who helped us with the down payment on our mortgage!
— I call things what they are, Ksyusha. Your mother demonstrated phenomenal stupidity. I have every right to laugh about it in my own home.
— What selective honesty you have! — I laughed bitterly, staring into his shameless eyes. — Why don’t we remember your dear mother’s phenomenal stupidity? Why didn’t you tell Oleg that story? Now that was hilarious!
Roman’s face instantly turned to stone. All of his relaxed confidence vanished in a fraction of a second.
— Shut your mouth, — he hissed through clenched teeth.
— What’s wrong? — I could no longer stop myself. I was moving full steam ahead like a locomotive. — You’re the one who believes in truth! You’re the one who hates hiding skeletons in closets! Let’s call Oleg and Yulia right now! Let’s tell them how your Nina Vasilyevna, a woman who thinks she belongs in high society, found herself a fiancé online three years ago! Let’s tell them how she transferred two million rubles to some scammer!
Roman shot to his feet. His chair crashed backward into the wall.
— I told you not to drag my mother into this! — he roared, towering over me.
— Oh, listen to you now! — I didn’t step back, lifting my chin defiantly. — When she took out a loan against her country house so she could send money to that man to pay some imaginary customs fee for a chest full of gold, that wasn’t stupidity? When she believed he was going to come to Ryazan and marry her, that was a sign of high intelligence?
— That was completely different! — Roman shouted, waving his hands. — Mom was lonely! Professional manipulators psychologically worked on her! It was sophisticated social engineering!
— Oh, really? — I threw up my hands. — But the people selling water filters were just street thugs, right? My mother lost one hundred and fifty thousand! Yours gave away two million! You sold your car! You took out a huge loan so debt collectors wouldn’t take your mother’s country house! We didn’t take a vacation for two years. We saved every kopeck to pay off the debts of your highly intelligent mother! And after all that, you dare open your mouth and insult mine?!
— My mother is an educated woman, an honored worker! She made one mistake! And we closed that subject once and for all! If you tell anyone, even one living soul, about what happened, I will divorce you. Do you understand me?
— Go to hell! — I shouted in his face. — Your so-called honesty is nothing but cowardice. You boost your ego by humiliating a vulnerable elderly woman because you don’t have the guts to admit the truth about your own family!
I turned around, slammed the kitchen door, and went to the bedroom. My entire body was trembling with rage and hurt.
A week passed.
Things between us were stretched tight like ropes. We spoke only about household matters.
But on Saturday we had an event we couldn’t avoid: my mother-in-law’s anniversary celebration. Nina Vasilyevna was turning seventy.
Roman rented a large hall in a respectable restaurant. His entire family came: cousins, uncles, aunts, as well as Roman’s cousin Yegor, a realtor who considered himself the greatest expert on absolutely everything, and his wife.
Nina Vasilyevna sat at the head of the table in a ridiculous evening gown covered in oversized costume jewelry. All evening she behaved as though she were receiving foreign ambassadors in a royal palace.
I sat silently, poking at my salad with a fork and wishing the evening would end as quickly as possible.
When the main course was served, the conversation turned to phone calls from supposed “bank security departments.”
— Oh, they call me constantly, — Yegor said dismissively while serving himself some grilled meat. — I tell them where to go immediately. I don’t understand what kind of person you have to be to believe that nonsense.
Roman, who was sitting beside me, suddenly became animated. Apparently, his desire to show off in front of his relatives was stronger than common sense.
— Phone calls are nothing! — Roman said loudly, attracting everyone’s attention. — My mother-in-law really outdid herself a few days ago. Galina Petrovna somehow managed to buy a water filter for one hundred and fifty thousand rubles! She let door-to-door salesmen right into her apartment and practically signed the loan agreement on her knee!
Laughter rippled around the table.
One of Roman’s uncles nearly choked on his wine.
I froze, unable to believe my ears.
He was doing it again.
Right in front of me.
Right in front of his entire family.
Nina Vasilyevna dabbed her lips with a napkin and gave me a condescending look.
— You know, Ksenia, — my mother-in-law began in that trademark patronizing tone that had always driven me crazy. — I’m not surprised at all. Unfortunately, people without proper education, people with a simple, shall we say, provincial mentality, will always become victims of things like this. Galina Petrovna simply lacks an analytical mind. Intelligence and worldly wisdom are things that come from upbringing. When a person spends her entire life driving a tram, expecting critical thinking from her is simply ridiculous. It’s sad, but inevitable.
She looked around at the relatives, and several of them nodded in agreement.
Such a wave of fury washed over me that my vision nearly went dark.
I wasn’t going to stay silent.
I abruptly pushed my chair back and stood up.
The music in the restaurant was playing softly, so the sound of the chair immediately made everyone fall silent and look at me.
— Ksenia, sit down, — Roman hissed, grabbing my arm.
— Get your hands off me! — I barked so loudly that people at the neighboring table turned around.
I yanked my arm free and looked directly at Nina Vasilyevna.
— So, an analytical mind, you say? — My voice trembled with tension, but I spoke clearly and loudly. — Intelligence and worldly wisdom?
— Ksenia, behave yourself. We’re in a restaurant, — my mother-in-law tried to reprimand me, arrogantly raising her chin.
— I am behaving perfectly well! — I turned toward the relatives. — Since my husband loves transparency and honesty so much, since he believes other people’s financial mistakes should be openly discussed at the dinner table, then why don’t we discuss some truly impressive intelligence? Why don’t we talk about our birthday lady?
Roman turned pale.
— Ksenia. Shut up immediately. I warned you, — he hissed, trying to grab my sleeve again.
— No! You yourself said a week ago that stupidity should be called stupidity! You said hiding the truth encourages idiocy! — I turned toward Yegor, who was sitting there with his mouth open. — Yegor, you’re a realtor. Tell me, how would you evaluate the analytical abilities of a woman who takes out a loan secured by her only country house so she can send two million rubles to a scammer?
A deathly silence fell over the table.
— What… scammer? — Yegor finally managed to ask.
— One from Africa! — I announced loudly enough for the entire hall to hear. — A man who wrote to our deeply respected Nina Vasilyevna on social media! Apparently, he had a chest full of gold stuck in customs, and he urgently needed money so he could come to Ryazan and marry our birthday lady! And Nina Vasilyevna, with all her incredible intelligence, transferred two million rubles to him!
My mother-in-law sat there with her mouth hanging open.
— You… what are you talking about, you… fool… — she muttered, gripping the tablecloth.
— I’m telling the pure truth, Nina Vasilyevna! — I snapped. — My mother lost one hundred and fifty thousand because she was frightened about her health. You gave away two million because of your own limitless stupidity! Roman sold his car and buried himself in debt to save your country house!
— Roma… Roma, do something! — Nina Vasilyevna shrieked at her son.
Roman sat there with his head lowered, saying nothing.
The relatives began whispering among themselves.
One of Roman’s aunts looked at her sister with undisguised contempt.
The legend of the perfect, wise, aristocratic woman collapsed with a deafening crash.
— You humiliated my family, — Roman said hoarsely without looking at me.
— You humiliated mine for the sake of cheap self-importance. I simply restored justice, — I said, throwing my napkin onto the table. — I’m filing for divorce. I have no intention of living with a two-faced coward who has no basic respect for elderly people.
I turned around and walked out of the restaurant hall, my heels striking sharply against the floor.
I collected my coat from the cloakroom and stepped outside.
The cold autumn air felt pleasant against my burning face.
Two days later, while Roman was at work, I packed my belongings and went to stay with my mother.
My husband bombarded my phone with calls, threats, insults, demands that I come back, and orders to publicly apologize to his mother.
But I didn’t respond at all.
