The alarm rang exactly at six in the morning. Vika opened her eyes but didn’t move. Next to her, her husband was peacefully snoring, wrapped up in the blanket over his head. The alarm kept ringing desperately, but Arthur didn’t even twitch. Vika reached out and turned off the alarm. Time to get up. Her shift at the supermarket started at eight, and she still needed to prepare breakfast, get ready, and get to work.
In the kitchen, her mother-in-law was already clattering dishes. Tatyana Petrovna always got up early, even when there was nowhere to rush to. “All decent people get up with the first roosters,” she liked to say, even though there had never been any roosters in their city apartment.
“Good morning,” Vika said as she entered the kitchen.
Her mother-in-law gave her daughter-in-law a dissatisfied look.
“Didn’t sleep well again? You look awful. And what’s with the habit of walking around like that? At least put on a robe.”
Vika silently went to the cupboard for a cup. She didn’t want to argue. Besides, it was pointless. After three years of living under one roof, she had long understood: it’s easier to keep quiet than to get into a half-hour lecture about how a real woman should look.
“Is Arthur still asleep?” Tatyana Petrovna asked, arranging cups. “Maybe you should wake him? He has work too.”
“He has a day off today,” Vika replied, pouring herself some coffee.
“Again?” The disapproval was clear in her mother-in-law’s voice. “Three days in a row? His days off are getting frequent.”
Vika shrugged. It was pointless to explain that taxi drivers’ schedules were flexible. Or rather, they could be flexible if Arthur actually worked. But lately, he found a thousand reasons not to go on the line: the car broke down, not enough orders, migraine bothering him.
“Let him rest,” Vika said. “He wasn’t feeling well yesterday.”
“All illnesses come from idleness,” Tatyana Petrovna cut in sharply. “My Valentin, may he rest in peace, even went to work with a fever. And today’s men…” She waved her hand, leaving the sentence unfinished.
Vika finished her coffee and went to the bathroom. Under the streams of cool water, her head gradually cleared. She had been sleeping no more than five hours a night for three weeks. The supermarket inspections had started, forcing her to stay late, sorting out documents. At home, a mountain of unwashed laundry, an uncooked dinner, and a dissatisfied mother-in-law awaited her.
Coming out of the bathroom, Vika saw that Arthur was already awake and sitting in the kitchen, scrolling through something on his phone.
“Hi,” Vika smiled. “How did you sleep?”
“Fine,” Arthur didn’t even look up from the screen. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Scrambled eggs and sandwiches,” Vika answered, taking out a frying pan. “Not much time, I’m already late.”
“Again with the scrambled eggs,” sighed Tatyana Petrovna. “Arthur, son, you need to eat properly. This kind of food won’t give you any strength.”
“Mom, it’s fine,” Arthur finally looked up from his phone. “Vika is just in a hurry.”
“Are you going to work today?” Vika asked, cracking eggs into the pan.
“I don’t know yet,” her husband returned to his phone. “Not many orders. Also need to take the car for diagnostics, something with the brakes.”
Vika clenched her teeth. Arthur had already “diagnosed” the car four times this month. And when asked why there were so few orders, while all taxi drivers complained about the crazy pace, there was no clear answer.
“Should I leave you some money?” Vika asked, serving scrambled eggs onto plates.
“Yes, please,” Arthur nodded.
“And for groceries?” Tatyana Petrovna immediately jumped in. “The fridge is empty. And I need to buy medicine, they gave me a prescription yesterday.”
Vika mentally counted the money left until payday. Utility bills, groceries, mother-in-law’s medicine… She would have to dip into her credit card again.
“I’ll stop by the pharmacy after work,” Vika said, packing her bag. “Leave the prescription on the table.”
Tatyana Petrovna pursed her lips but said nothing. Vika put on her coat, found her travel card in her pocket, and opened the door.
“Bye, see you in the evening.”
“What time will you be home?” Arthur asked.
“Until ten, if they don’t make me stay late again,” Vika replied and left the apartment.
The workday at the supermarket started as usual — checking yesterday’s reports and giving instructions to the staff. As an administrator, Vika was responsible for everything: from cashiers’ work to cleanliness in the sales area. Plus, the eternal headaches with suppliers, difficult customers, and inspectors.
Around two in the afternoon, another conflict arose — a customer demanded a refund for yogurt she supposedly bought yesterday. She couldn’t produce a receipt, the yogurt was half-eaten, but the customer insisted the product was expired.
“Do you understand that without a receipt I cannot process a refund?” Vika repeated for the tenth time, feeling her head start to hurt.
“I demand to see the manager!” the customer raised her voice. “You don’t want to do your job!”
The next half hour was spent in fruitless negotiations and filling out a complaint. The woman left promising to report to the consumer protection agency, and Vika was reprimanded by management “for inability to work with customers.”
At six in the evening, Tatyana Petrovna called.
“Vika, you haven’t forgotten my medicine, have you? And buy some potatoes, we ran out. And some meat for dinner. Arthur wanted cutlets.”
“All right,” Vika replied tiredly. “I’ll buy everything.”
“And stop by the hardware store, we need a new frying pan. This one’s all worn out.”
Vika sighed deeply.
“Tatyana Petrovna, I don’t have money for a frying pan right now. Let’s buy it next time.”
“When will the next time be?” irritation sounded in her mother-in-law’s voice. “You always say that! And what will we cook on? On this wreck?”
“I’ll get my paycheck in three days, then we’ll buy it,” Vika tried to stay calm.
“All right, suit yourself,” her mother-in-law snorted and hung up.
Vika returned home just after eleven — again had to stay late. The apartment was quiet. Arthur was sleeping on the couch in front of the working TV. Judging by the closed door to her room, Tatyana Petrovna had already gone to bed.
Vika put groceries in the fridge, took out the medicine for her mother-in-law, and put it in a visible place. She wasn’t hungry — fatigue dulled her appetite. After a shower, she lay down next to her husband, who didn’t even wake up as she got into bed.
The next morning it all repeated. And the day after. And a week later. Life turned into a vicious circle: work, home, cooking, cleaning, dissatisfied mother-in-law, perpetually tired husband. And everywhere — only her, Vika, running like a hamster in a wheel, trying to do everything and please everyone.
On Sunday, Tatyana Petrovna’s friend, Klavdiya Mikhailovna, came by. Vika was cooking lunch when she overheard the conversation in the living room.
“How do you live like this?” Klavdiya Mikhailovna asked. “Does Arthur work?”
“Sometimes,” Tatyana Petrovna answered evasively. “He has his own business, taxi. He’s his own boss.”
“And how’s your daughter-in-law? Still at the store?”
“Yes, as an administrator. Vika is a bit rough, but at least she has money. Enough for living.”
Vika froze, ladle in hand. So that’s how it was? She was just a source of money? All her efforts, all attempts to create coziness, keep peace in the family — meant nothing?
In the evening, when Tatyana Petrovna went to her neighbor’s and Arthur buried himself in his phone again, Vika decided to talk.
“Arthur, we need to talk,” she began, sitting down beside him.
“Hmm?” her husband reluctantly looked up. “What’s wrong?”
“Don’t you notice I’m the only one running the whole house?” Vika tried to speak calmly. “I work without days off, pay all the bills, buy groceries, medicine for your mom. And you? When was the last time you brought money home?”
Arthur frowned.
“Here you go again? I’m going through a tough time right now. You know the market situation.”
“What situation? All taxi drivers complain about overwork, and you sit at home for days.”
“Why are you panicking?” Arthur waved it off. “Everything’s fine. Roof over our heads, food on the table. What else do you want?”
“I want you to take part in this family too!” Vika felt anger boiling inside. “So I’m not the only one solving all the problems!”
“Well, sorry I don’t meet your expectations,” Arthur said sarcastically. “But you knew who you were marrying.”
“A responsible person, not a lazy bum who hides behind a sick mother to avoid work!”
Arthur abruptly stood up.
“Don’t you dare talk about my mother like that! She gave her whole life for me!”
“And now I’m supposed to give my life to both of you?” Vika also stood up. “I didn’t sign up for this!”
“Then leave!” Arthur blurted out. “Nobody’s holding you here!”
“Fine! Maybe I will!”
Slamming the bedroom door, Vika collapsed onto the bed. Tears choked her, but she held back, biting her lip until it hurt. No, she wouldn’t cry. Not today.
The next morning, Vika woke up with a headache and swollen eyes. Arthur had already gotten up and gone somewhere — unusual for him. Tatyana Petrovna was bustling in the kitchen.
“You finally woke up,” her mother-in-law greeted. “I thought you’d be late for work.”
“I won’t be,” Vika croaked, pouring water. “I have a late shift today.”
“And breakfast? You didn’t even make anything for your husband.”
“Arthur is a big boy, he’ll manage.”
Tatyana Petrovna shook her head.
“What’s happening to you, Vika? You’ve stopped taking care of the house, yourself. Arthur complained to me that you constantly take your frustrations out on him.”
Vika put the glass on the table and looked intently at her mother-in-law.
“And hasn’t Arthur complained that he hasn’t brought a penny home in six months? That I pay all the bills, all the food, all your medicine?”
“Don’t start,” Tatyana Petrovna grimaced. “The boy’s going through a hard time. As a woman, you should support him, not nag.”
“Sure,” Vika smiled bitterly. “I should work around the clock, cook, clean, pay everything, and still support the poor boy. And what is he supposed to do?”
“He’s a man,” her mother-in-law said gravely, as if that explained everything.
Vika shook her head and left the kitchen, feeling despair grow inside.
Work was hectic again. One supplier didn’t deliver goods, customers complained about empty shelves, the director demanded explanations. By evening, Vika’s head was splitting, and black spots danced before her eyes.
“Vika, are you okay?” her colleague Natasha asked as they closed the shift. “You’re pale as a wall.”
“Fine,” Vika replied mechanically. “Just tired.”
“You say that every day. Maybe you should see a doctor?”
“I don’t have time for doctors.”
Natasha looked carefully at her colleague.
“Vika, you’re burned out. It’s obvious. You need to take a vacation, rest.”
“I can’t take time off,” Vika rubbed her tired eyes. “Who will pay for everything? Husband’s out of work, mother-in-law on pension…”
“And if you break down, who’ll pay then?” Natasha noted reasonably.
Vika was silent. What could she say? Natasha was right, but she had no choice.
At home, it was unusually quiet. Arthur had gone out again, and Tatyana Petrovna was watching a series in her room. Vika went to the kitchen and found a pile of unwashed dishes. Apparently, mother-in-law and son had a good dinner without bothering to wash their plates.
The last straw came the next morning. Vika woke up screaming — she’d had a nightmare where she couldn’t escape an endless supermarket with disappearing exits.
“What’s wrong?” Arthur mumbled sleepily.
“Nothing,” Vika got out of bed, her hands trembling. “Just a bad dream.”
In the bathroom, looking at her reflection in the mirror, Vika barely recognized herself. Pale face with dark circles under her eyes, a dull look, tense shoulders. When had she changed so much? When had life turned into an endless race for someone else’s approval?
At work, Vika couldn’t concentrate. She made mistakes twice in calculations with suppliers, was rude to a client, forgot to sign an important document. After lunch, the director called her in.
“Victoria, what’s going on with you?” Sergey Nikolaevich asked, looking over his glasses. “Your work lately is terrible.”
“Sorry,” Vika looked down. “I’ll fix it.”
“It’s not about apologies. You’re clearly burned out. I see it by all signs.” The director sighed. “Listen to my advice: take a vacation. Rest. And if you can’t — quit. Because in this state, you only harm yourself and the store.”
“You’re firing me?” Vika asked quietly.
“I’m giving you a choice: either rest or quit. Decide yourself.”
Vika was silent, looking out the window behind the director. Outside, life went on. People hurried on their errands, laughed, talked. And she was stuck in this vicious circle of endless duties and guilt.
“I quit,” Vika said, surprised by the firmness in her voice.
The director nodded, as if expecting that answer.
“Write your resignation. You’ll get paid at the end of the week.”
Leaving the office, Vika felt a strange relief. As if an invisible burden fell from her shoulders. Yes, there would be money problems. Yes, Arthur and mother-in-law would be unhappy. But for the first time in a long while, she made a decision for herself, not for someone else.
At home, Tatyana Petrovna met her.
“You’re home early,” her mother-in-law was surprised. “What happened?”
“Yes,” Vika nodded, going to the kitchen. “I quit.”
Tatyana Petrovna froze, then slowly sat down, looking at her daughter-in-law as if she’d announced the end of the world.
“What do you mean — quit? Were you fired?”
“No,” Vika took a bottle of water from the fridge. “I wrote the resignation myself.”
“But why?” Tatyana Petrovna spread her hands in confusion. “You had a good salary!”
Vika took a sip of water and calmly looked at her mother-in-law. Strange, there was no irritation — only tiredness and some distant calm.
“I’m burned out, Tatyana Petrovna. I need a break. I want to think about where to go next.”
“What kind of break?” her mother-in-law waved her hands. “In our time only the rich could afford breaks! Work is work, whether you like it or not, you have to go!”
“I need to rest,” Vika repeated. “Just a couple of weeks, no more.”
“And what will we live on those two weeks?” Tatyana Petrovna raised her voice. “What about buying groceries? And my medicine?”
“I have savings,” Vika shrugged. “Enough for the time being.”
At that moment, Arthur entered the kitchen, sleepy and tousled, though it was already past noon.
“What’s going on here?” her husband asked, scratching his head. “Why are you shouting?”
“Your wife quit!” Tatyana Petrovna said as if Vika had committed a grave crime. “Just took and quit!”
‘Arthur froze at the door, staring at Vika.
“What do you mean? Why?”
“I’m tired,” Vika answered simply. “I need a break.”
“And the money?” Arthur asked immediately. Not “how do you feel,” not “I understand you,” but “the money.”
“I’ll get my paycheck on Friday,” Vika passed by her husband to the bedroom. She wanted to shower and lie down. Just sleep — no alarm, no obligations, no constant tension.
Arthur followed.
“Vik, what’s wrong? It was a decent job. You’re an administrator, not a loader. What didn’t you like?”
Vika looked at her husband tiredly.
“I didn’t like that I work like a slave, and at home, another front of work awaits me. I didn’t like that I’m the only one holding this house. I didn’t like that they see me only as a source of money.”
“You’re exaggerating,” Arthur waved it off and left the room.
Vika heard him turn on the TV in the living room. No word of support, no sympathy. Only annoyance that their usual way of life might be disrupted.
They had dinner in silence. Arthur silently stared at the TV, occasionally throwing displeased glances at his wife. Tatyana Petrovna demonstratively sighed, clattered dishes, and muttered something under her breath.
After dinner, the phone rang. Tatyana Petrovna’s sister, Valentina Petrovna, sometimes dropped in unannounced. Vika barely cleared the table when loud voices came from the hallway.
“I’ll tell you something!” Valentina Petrovna was excited. “Nina’s grandson bought an apartment! Himself! At twenty-five!”
The women went into the kitchen, and mother-in-law nodded at Vika to put on the kettle.
“Imagine, we have news too,” Tatyana Petrovna said ominously, looking at her daughter-in-law. “Vika quit.”
“No way!” Valentina Petrovna threw up her hands. “Why?”
Before Vika could answer, her mother-in-law blurted out:
“She lost her mind! Who will bring money home now?! Has she gone crazy?!”
Vika froze by the stove. These words drenched her like ice water. No sympathy, no understanding. Only anger that their funding source was drying up.
“I, by the way, held everyone up alone for three years,” Vika said slowly, turning to the women. “And where were you when I felt bad?”
Tatyana Petrovna pursed her lips.
“I don’t understand what you mean. I’ve always been in this house. Cooked, cleaned…”
“When I came home from work broken, when I cried at night from exhaustion, did you ever ask how I felt? Did you ever offer help?”
“What help can I give?” Tatyana Petrovna protested. “I’m an old woman! And anyway, don’t play the pity card here. At your age, I had two kids and two jobs!”
“Great,” Vika nodded. “That explains a lot.”
Valentina Petrovna shifted her gaze from daughter-in-law to her sister, clearly enjoying the scandal. Vika placed cups of tea before them and left the kitchen.
In the bedroom, she stared at the ceiling for a long time, reviewing the events of recent years. How she gradually took on all expenses. How she got used to constant fatigue. How she learned to ignore mother-in-law’s barbs and husband’s indifference.
At what point did she let herself become the household help? When did she accept the role of the family’s sole breadwinner?
Arthur came into the bedroom after midnight, when the aunt had left and mother-in-law was closed in her room.
“Vik, are you asleep?” her husband whispered, sitting on the bed’s edge.
Vika turned to him:
“No, not asleep.”
“Listen, mom did go too far,” Arthur began. “But understand, she’s worried. She’s used to everything being stable with us.”
“Stable?” Vika propped herself on her elbow. “That I work like a horse, and you guys sit on my neck — that’s stability?”
“Why are you so…” Arthur frowned. “I work too. Sometimes.”
“Sometimes is the key word. And bills come every month, and food is needed every day.”
Her husband sighed and tried to hug Vika, but she pushed him away.
“Let’s talk tomorrow,” Vika said. “I’m tired.”
The next morning, Vika woke up clear-headed. No alarm, no rush. She lay listening to sounds in the apartment. Arthur was apparently still asleep. But mother-in-law was already busy in the kitchen.
Vika got up, dressed, and left the bedroom. Tatyana Petrovna was fussing by the stove.
“Good morning,” Vika greeted.
Mother-in-law silently nodded, not looking at her. Clearly offended.
“I’m going to the bank today,” Vika said, pouring coffee. “I need to sort out some financial issues.”
“Probably want to take a loan,” Tatyana Petrovna snorted. “Since you’re not going to work.”
Vika didn’t answer. She calmly drank coffee, grabbed her bag, and left the apartment.
At the bank, Vika closed the joint account where she had been transferring money for family expenses for several years and transferred the balance to her personal account. Then she went to the insurance company and canceled Arthur’s car insurance, which she also paid monthly.
Vika spent the whole day in the city. She visited her friend Marina, who had long invited her for coffee. Told her about quitting.
“You’re brave,” Marina said. “I wanted to tell you long ago, you let them ride you. Arthur’s gone too far. And your mother-in-law…” her friend shook her head. “Well, it was high time to change something.”
“I don’t even know how I got to this point,” Vika sighed. “Everything just fell on me unnoticed.”
“And now what will you do?”
“Not decided yet. Maybe I’ll take some courses. I wanted to learn web design for a long time.”
“And where will you live?” Marina asked. “They won’t let you go.”
Vika thought. Indeed, she didn’t want to go back home. She already felt the constant pressure, reproaches, manipulations waiting for her.
“You can live with me for a while,” Marina offered. “I have a sofa bed.”
“Thanks,” Vika smiled. “But I’ll probably rent something. I need personal space.”
In the evening, Vika gathered the essentials and documents. Seeing this, Arthur frowned.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ll live with Marina for now,” Vika replied. “I need to figure myself out.”
“So you’re abandoning us?” Arthur crossed his arms. “First you quit, now you leave. Great!”
“I’m not abandoning,” Vika calmly objected. “I’m taking a break. I need space to think.”
“What kind of thinking?” Tatyana Petrovna appeared in the doorway. “What is there to think about? Go work like all normal people!”
Vika zipped her bag and straightened up.
“You know what? I worked for three years. I carried this family alone for three years. And got not a bit of gratitude in return. Only complaints and demands. You both see me as an ATM, not a person. It’s time to change that.”
“How dare you!” Tatyana Petrovna gasped in outrage. “After everything we did for you!”
“And what exactly did you do for me?” Vika asked quietly. “Remind me.”
Mother-in-law opened her mouth, closed it, but found no answer.
Arthur tried the last line:
“What about me? You don’t love me at all?”
“I don’t know,” Vika answered honestly. “But I know for sure this can’t go on.”
She kissed Arthur on the cheek, nodded to her mother-in-law, and left the apartment.
Vika stayed with Marina only three days. Quickly found a small but cozy studio near the center. She couldn’t afford it before — all money went to the family. But now, spending only on herself, she found she could live quite comfortably.
In the first days, her phone rang nonstop with calls from Arthur and mother-in-law. Vika answered briefly, not going into explanations. No, she wouldn’t return anytime soon. No, she wouldn’t give money — she had to pay for her apartment. No, she didn’t know when she’d work again.
A week after leaving, Vika enrolled in web design courses. She had been interested in the field for a long time but never had the time or energy to learn.
That same evening Arthur called.
“Vik, I understand everything,” regret was audible in his voice. “Forgive me. I was an idiot. Please come back.”
“What exactly do you understand?” Vika asked.
“Well…” Arthur hesitated. “That you worked a lot. That I helped little. That you were more reliable than anyone else, and I didn’t appreciate it.”
Vika smiled. Even in his apologies, her husband couldn’t get out of his usual mindset. “You were more reliable” — meaning, you provided comfort better than anyone else.
“Thanks for the apology,” Vika said. “But I won’t come back. At least not yet.”
“But Vik…”
“Arthur, I started a new life. Without constant reproaches, without having to carry the whole family. I finally get enough sleep, do what interests me. And you know what? I like this life.”
“You stopped loving us,” Arthur said in a defeated voice.
“I don’t know,” Vika answered honestly. “But I definitely started loving myself. And that’s already good.”
After that conversation, Vika blocked her mother-in-law’s number and stopped answering Arthur’s calls. She needed time and space to build a new life free from the burden of others’ expectations.
A month later, Vika was working as a junior designer in a small company. Her salary was less than at the supermarket, but the job brought her joy. She rented a nicer apartment, got a cat, and started meeting friends she had almost forgotten during the years of marriage.
Sometimes she thought about Arthur and her mother-in-law. Wondered how they were managing. Had her husband learned to take responsibility for his life? Found a normal job?
But every time such thoughts came, Vika remembered the day she announced her resignation. She recalled not care and sympathy but outrage: “Who will bring money home now?!”
After three months of independent living, Vika filed for divorce. The decision was difficult but inevitable. Arthur came to see her, tried to convince her to return, promised to change, find a job.
“Too late,” Vika replied. “I don’t want to return to being the person who owes everyone everything.”
“But we are family,” Arthur said confused.
“Family is when both support each other,” Vika calmly explained. “And we never had that.”
The divorce process went surprisingly smoothly. There was nothing to divide — the apartment belonged to Arthur before marriage, and the rest of the property was insignificant.
No, in that family, there wasn’t husband and wife, but sponsor and consumers. And Vika no longer intended to play the role of sponsor. That role was in the past, and ahead was a new life — her own, full of meaning and joy.
