“Ksenia! The guests have waited half an hour for coffee! And cut the cake bigger — Vasily loves sweets!”
Elena Petrovna’s voice echoed through the apartment.
Ksenia sighed. Ten relatives filled the living room. Her husband Sergey lounged, chatting, while she rushed between rooms.
“I’m coming!” she called, grabbing cups.
For six months now, weekends had turned into family feasts — all hosted at her place. No one ever asked; they just showed up.
As she served coffee, her mother-in-law sneered, “Finally!”
“And the cake?” asked Vasily.
Back in the kitchen, Sergey joined her.
“You look like you’re at a funeral.”
“I’m exhausted. Every Saturday is the same.”
“They’re my family,” he said. “This is important to Mom.”
“So is my sanity,” Ksenia replied. “Why not go to her place for once?”
He brushed it off. That weekend, they hosted again — Ksenia cooked, served, smiled. And heard only complaints.
By Tuesday, her mother-in-law announced more guests.
“We have plans,” Ksenia tried.
“You’re selfish!” was the reply.
Sergey didn’t back her. Again.
On Saturday, Ksenia didn’t clean, cook, or prepare. When the doorbell rang, she welcomed the guests — but offered nothing.
“What’s this?” Elena Petrovna gasped.
“I’m done,” Ksenia said. “This is my home, not your restaurant.”
Accusations flew. Ksenia stood firm.
“No more uninvited gatherings. No more serving without thanks.”
Sergey exploded when he came home.
“You embarrassed my mom!”
“And you never stood up for me.”
When he demanded she apologize, she said no.
“Then I’ll go to my mom!”
“Pack your things,” she said.
He left. And for the first time in months, the apartment was quiet.
Ksenia smiled. Tomorrow was hers. Finally.
Leave a Reply