— I understand, — Zinaida Ivanovna nodded. — Believe me, I understand.
After that day, their relationship became smoother. The mother-in-law no longer meddled in their lives, didn’t offer unsolicited advice, and didn’t try to manipulate her son. Oleg, in turn, learned to separate his role as a son from his role as a husband.
One day, while cleaning out a wardrobe, Lyudmila came across that same old bag. She reached inside and pulled out a few souvenir bills. She laughed, remembering that absurd evening. She showed them to Oleg.
— Remember?
Oleg took a bill and twirled it in his hands.
— How could I forget. The most shameful day of my life. How Mom and I embarrassed ourselves at the bank. But we learned a lesson.
— We did, — Lyudmila agreed.
— And you know, I’m grateful. You acted harshly back then, but it was the right thing to do. If it weren’t for that incident, we would still be living in that stupid triangle where Mom decides everything for us.
Lyudmila put the bills back. Those funny, worthless pieces of paper played a much more important role than she had planned. They revealed the truth. They showed who was who. They showed where the boundaries were. And although that evening was unpleasant, it became a turning point. A point after which life went on differently. Without claims, without manipulation, without attempts to get into someone else’s pocket.
Lyudmila closed the wardrobe and went to the kitchen to make dinner. Oleg turned on the TV. It was raining outside. The apartment smelled like home. Their home. And that was right.
Comments are closed.