“Kseniya Nikolaevna, we talked with Kolya and decided not to give Dasha money as a gift.”
“What?!” The mother-in-law’s eyebrows shot up. “She’s turning twenty! At that age, money is the best gift!”
“We want to give her something meaningful, a keepsake.”
“To hell with your keepsake! In our family, we only give money!” — she shouted, slamming her palm on the table.
Kolya choked on his kompot. Tanya clenched her napkin under the table.
“Mom, please don’t do this,” she tried to intervene.
“Shut up! Always under your wife’s orders?” the mother-in-law stared him down. “In our family, money gifts are tradition!”
“Maybe it’s time to change traditions,” Tanya tried to stay calm.
“Oh really!” Kseniya Nikolaevna raised her hands. “Two years in the family and already giving orders!”
“Mom, maybe we should go.”
That dinner was just another round in a never-ending war. From the first meeting, Kseniya Nikolaevna couldn’t stand Tanya. “Too simple for my Kolya,” she had said then, not even lowering her voice.
The wedding was a disaster — the mother-in-law wanted a fancy restaurant, Tanya preferred a modest ceremony. Kolya ran back and forth, pleasing no one.
But it was after the wedding that the real conflict began: the mother-in-law showed up unannounced, moved furniture, criticized the meals, and looked for dust in corners with a white handkerchief.
“I just want to teach you to be a good wife,” she said, finding dust on top of the cabinet.
And then there was Dasha — the mother’s idol. “Dasha would never wear that,” “Dasha cooks better,” “Dasha is smart, unlike some others.”
One day Tanya accidentally saw a message from the mother-in-law to her husband: “Kolya, it’s not too late to fix this, she’s not right for you.” Tanya didn’t say anything. It hurt too much.
In three years of marriage, Tanya had learned to set boundaries. Now she slammed the door on unwanted guests, answered provocations, and no longer apologized for existing. And now, Dasha’s birthday had become a new battlefield.
The door slammed shut. Kolya and Tanya returned home after dinner. With them, they carried the tension.
“Why did you do that?” Kolya threw his keys on the shelf.
“Me?” Tanya raised her eyebrows. “It was your mother yelling in front of everyone.”
“You know how she is. Why can’t you just give the money?”
Tanya took off her coat, trying to stay calm.
“I don’t like every celebration turning into an exchange of money. It feels like a business deal, not family.”
“Forget it,” Kolya collapsed on the couch. “It’s easier this way. Dasha can buy whatever she wants, instead of a forgotten knick-knack.”
“Are you sure you know what your sister really wants? Have you ever asked?”
“Don’t start.” Kolya grimaced. “We already have enough problems.”
Tanya stared at him.
“Kolya, I put up with a lot from your mother. But I can’t live obeying her orders.”
“You’re always rebellious. Couldn’t you give in once in a while?”
“Do you think it’s normal your mother humiliated me in front of everyone?”
“You know how she is. Was it worth provoking her?”
“So I should bend forever?”
“Don’t exaggerate. Just give her the money and that’s it. I’m tired.”
Kolya turned on the TV. Conversation over. Tanya got up silently and went to the kitchen. For the first time, she thought about packing her bags and going back to her parents.
The next day, Tanya went to a bookstore. She was looking for a special gift. Dasha was studying design — maybe something with beautiful graphics?
“Tanya?” — a familiar voice.
She turned. Dasha — tall, her hair tied in a messy bun — smiled at her.
“What a surprise!” Tanya said. “When did you get here?”
“Last night. Mom told me you stopped by.”
“Yes… it was an… interesting dinner,” Tanya blushed.
Dasha smiled ironically.
“I already know Mom’s version. Now I want yours.”
They sat down in a café. Tanya stirred her cappuccino.
“I didn’t want to give you money. I preferred something thoughtful.”
“And here I thought you were arguing about politics!” Dasha laughed. “Mom always overdramatizes.”
“She cares about traditions.”
“You know I hate those money envelopes?” she lowered her voice. “Every year the same story. It’s like they pay me to disappear.”
Tanya looked surprised.
“Really? But your mother said…”
“My mother says a lot of things,” Dasha smiled bitterly. “She even drove my boyfriend away. ‘He’s not our level,’ she said.”
“I didn’t know,” Tanya looked at her with growing sympathy.
“Forgive her. She wants to control everything. But I’m glad Kolya has you. You don’t let yourself be shaped.”
The night before the party, Tanya found the perfect gift: an antique silver brooch shaped like an artist’s palette. It reminded her of Dasha’s dream to become a jewelry designer.
At home, she carefully wrapped it in a velvet box. The phone rang — Kseniya Nikolaevna.
“Tanechka, I hope you’ve changed your mind about the gift?”
“We’ve already decided, thank you.”
“Kolya said you spent more on that trinket than the money you wanted to give,” she said irritably.
Tanya looked at her husband. He lowered his eyes.
“That’s none of your business,” she answered calmly.
“How rude! And we accepted you into the family!”
“See you tomorrow, Kseniya Nikolaevna.”
That evening Kolya was silent, hiding behind the phone. Tanya felt the emptiness growing between them.
“Do you really have to ruin things with Mom?” he asked finally.
“Do you really have to report every move we make to her?”
Kolya slept on the couch. Tomorrow would be a hard day.
The mother-in-law’s apartment looked like a battlefield disguised as a party. Forced smiles, empty compliments. The relatives’ looks were judgmental. Tanya’s words had already spread.
“Happy birthday!” Tanya hugged Dasha, handing her the package.
Kseniya Nikolaevna approached immediately.
“What’s that? I hope it’s more than the main gift?”
Dasha unwrapped it with curiosity. Her eyes lit up.
“Oh my… but it’s… Where did you find it?” She took out the brooch, making it sparkle under the chandelier.
“An antique shop. It’s from the early 1900s.”
“It’s beautiful!” Dasha pinned it on. “I’m doing a project on the history of jewelry design!”
Kseniya Nikolaevna pressed her lips.
“And the envelope? She needs money for her courses.”
“Mom, enough,” Dasha darkened. “This brooch is worth more than all the envelopes put together.”
“Don’t you dare!” the mother snapped.
Tanya felt herself flush. Kolya nervously fixed his tie.
“Everyone to the table!” ordered the mother-in-law, trying to regain control.
During dinner, every toast became a monologue about “family traditions.” Dasha touched the brooch, casting grateful looks at Tanya.
“And now, according to tradition,” the mother said, “the birthday girl will read the gift list.”
Dasha opened a notebook, annoyed.
“Really?”
“Of course!” the mother replied. “We’ve always done it.”
Dasha started reading, monotonous: “From Aunt Vera, five thousand; from Uncle Sasha, seven thousand…”
“Louder, dear, Uncle Borya can’t hear,” the mother directed everything.
At the end, Kseniya Nikolaevna coughed pointedly:
“And someone only gave old trinkets. How stingy!”
Kolya stiffened. Something broke inside Tanya.
“Mom!” protested Dasha.
“What? I only told the truth.”
Tanya stood up.
“May I propose a toast?”
Silence. She raised her glass:
“Dasha, I wish you courage. The courage to be yourself even when others want to cage you. This brooch is not just jewelry. It’s a symbol: sometimes you need to break the rules to be happy.”
“Enough with the preaching!” the mother interrupted. “Nobody asked you!”
“It’s not preaching,” Tanya replied calmly. “It’s a protest against suffocating traditions. Against these gift lists like business reports.”
“In my house, I won’t allow you…”
“I won’t come to your house anymore,” Tanya said. “And I’m taking my husband with me.”
Everyone turned. Kolya was motionless.
“Kolya, now or never.”
He stood up, looked at his mother, then at his wife. And took a decisive step toward Tanya.
“Mom, we have to learn to respect each other.”
Outside, Tanya took a deep breath. Kolya squeezed her hand.
“Sorry I stayed silent for so long.”
Steps behind them. Dasha was running, brooch in hand.
“Can I come with you? Even just for a little while?”
They walked together, leaving behind the suffocating house and its useless traditions.
“They’ll come back,” Kseniya Nikolaevna told the guests.
Of course, no one had any intention of returning.
