On Saturdays, Marina despised waking up early. More than anything, she craved the chance to rest after a long and exhausting week, cocooned in her warm blanket, savoring a rare moment of peace. But the persistent buzzing on the bedside table yanked her from that fragile bliss.

— “What now…” — she muttered, blindly feeling around for her phone.

The screen lit up with a message that made Marina sit bolt upright in bed:

“Marinochka, Aunt Tatiana is coming to stay with you for a week—with Uncle Igor and the twins. Make something tasty. And don’t forget fruit. The kids adore strawberries. Kisses. – Mila.”

Marina stared at the message, rereading it three times. Tatiana was Mila’s sister—a relative of Marina’s mother-in-law, essentially a stranger. Yet now, Tatiana and her family were expected to descend on them for a whole week… without even the courtesy of asking.

— “Leo, wake up,” — she nudged her husband. — “Your mother’s done it again.”

Leo cracked one eye open.

— “Huh? What’s going on?”

— “Your aunt Tatiana is coming to stay. With her husband and kids. Your mom told me to prepare a feast.”

Leo groaned, rubbing his eyes.

— “Perfect. Just perfect. I told her we decide who stays with us.”

Marina gave a bitter chuckle. In three years of marriage, she had learned exactly what that meant. His side of the family treated their small apartment like a casual drop-in spot—some sort of bed-and-breakfast without a checkout time. His cousins would breeze in unannounced. His aunt Lena would swing by “just for tea,” then lounge until dinner. His teenage niece, Sofi, frequently crashed at their place when her parents needed a break.

Every single time, Marina cooked. Cleaned. Entertained. Smiled. And Leo? He shrugged. “It’s family,” he’d say. “What can we do?”

— “I should go to the store,” — Marina sighed, slipping out of bed.

Leo reached out and pulled her back gently.

— “Maybe it’s time to shut this whole thing down. We could say we’ve got repairs. Or that we’ve had a leak.”

Marina gave a sad little smile. He always said the right things—but nothing ever changed. When the doorbell rang, he’d be the first to offer them slippers and tea.

— “Did your mom say when they’re arriving?”

— “Nope. I’ll ask.”

In the shower, hot water pouring down her back, Marina tried to steel herself for the coming week. Six people. A cramped, rented two-bedroom apartment. Noise. Cooking. No space. No peace. No rest.

After toweling off, she sat down with her laptop and opened the household budget spreadsheet. Her jaw dropped.

— “Leo, come look at this,” — she called as he wandered into the kitchen. — “In the last three months, we’ve spent more on groceries than rent.”

He whistled, looking over the numbers.

— “That can’t be right.”

— “It’s absolutely right. Because we’re feeding half your family! Remember when your brother came with his buddies to watch that game? Three pizzas, shashlik, beer—and we paid for all of it.”

Leo scratched his head.

— “It just felt awkward to ask…”

— “And Aunt Lena? Every Friday, like clockwork, right as I’m making dinner? She doesn’t even knock anymore.”

Marina closed the laptop with a snap.

— “I’m done.”

Leo blinked. “What do you mean?”

— “I mean, no more free ride. They want to stay? Fine. Let them buy their own food. Cook their own meals.”

Leo looked hesitant.

— “I dunno, Mari. That’s going to feel weird…”

— “Oh, but it’s fine for me to work double shifts and feed freeloaders?”

Just then, Leo’s phone rang. Mila. Her voice filled the room even from the other side of the call—Tatiana and her family would be arriving at six. And Marina should please make borscht. Uncle Igor loved it.

— “Sure, Mom,” Leo murmured, guilt flickering across his face.

Marina folded her arms.

— “I’m not cooking. Not this time. I mean it.”

— “Mari…”

— “No, Leo. Either you’re with me, or I’m spending the week at my parents’ place while you play innkeeper.”

By six, Marina was curled on the bed with a book. The kitchen remained silent. No delicious smells, no pots bubbling on the stove. She hadn’t gone to the store. She hadn’t lifted a finger. Leo paced the hallway like a man waiting for a bomb to go off.

And then—the doorbell.

Thumping suitcases. Unfamiliar voices. Marina emerged from the bedroom slowly.

Standing in the hallway were four strangers: a red-haired woman in her fifties with too much perfume, a balding man in a windbreaker, and two sullen teens.

— “And here’s the lady of the house!” — the woman chirped. — “Marinochka, darling! I’m Tatiana, this is Igor, and these are our kids—Daniil and Dasha. We haven’t seen each other in years!”

Marina pasted on a polite smile and shook the outstretched hand.

— “Come in.”

— “We’re starving!” Tatiana barreled toward the kitchen. — “Mila said your borscht is legendary!”

Leo glanced at his wife in panic. She offered only a silent shrug.

Seconds later, a dramatic gasp rang from the kitchen.

— “Where’s the food?” Tatiana stared at the nearly empty fridge. — “No roast? No salad? Not even caviar?”

Marina walked to the living room, sat down, and turned on the TV.

Tatiana stormed in.

— “Leo, what’s going on here? Are we supposed to starve?”

— “Mari, maybe just… cook something quick?” Leo asked sheepishly.

— “There’s a store around the corner,” Marina said, eyes on the screen. — “Or you can order takeout.”

Tatiana’s jaw dropped. She pulled out her phone.

— “Mila! You will not believe this!”

The scene escalated. Leo looked mortified. Igor offered to go buy groceries. The teens stood awkwardly in the hallway. But Marina stayed firm. Unmoving.

Thirty minutes later, the doorbell rang again.

Mila.

Her expression could have curdled milk.

— “What in God’s name is happening?” she barked from the doorway.

Tatiana ran to her sister in mock distress.

— “They didn’t even greet us! There’s no food!”

Mila turned to Marina with a cold glare.

— “We thought you were kind, Marina. And now look at you.”

Without a word, Marina disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a thick folder.

She placed it on the table with a thud.

— “Expense report. The last three months. Groceries, utilities, all of it.”

The pages flipped silently in Mila’s hands, revealing rows of figures and receipts.

— “Thirty-nine thousand rubles. Spent on guests who never asked, never contributed, and never said thank you.”

Silence. Then:

— “How dare you count money within the family?” Mila hissed.

— “How dare you dump your relatives on me?” Marina replied calmly. — “Why not host them yourself, Mila? Or cover their expenses?”

Tatiana’s face turned crimson.

— “We’re not freeloaders!”

— “No? Check the totals again.”

Leo tried to intervene, grabbing Marina’s hand.

— “Please, stop. You’re embarrassing us.”

— “And I wasn’t embarrassed being turned into a maid? Cook? Cash cow?”

She shook him off.

— “You always agreed with me in private. But when it came to standing up to your family? Silence.”

She walked to the bedroom. Pulled out her suitcase.

Leo trailed her, bewildered.

— “What are you doing?”

— “I’m leaving. You already made your choice.”

— “No, wait—let’s talk.”

— “We’ve talked, Leo. For three years.”

Mila appeared in the doorway, suddenly conciliatory.

— “Marinochka, let’s all calm down. We’ll go to a hotel—”

— “It’s too late for that,” Marina said.

She zipped the suitcase shut and stepped into the hallway. Everyone stared as she put on her coat.

— “What about the rent?” Mila called after her.

— “Ask Leo,” Marina replied. — “Without my income, you’re all going to get real hungry.”

The door slammed shut behind her.

Leo didn’t run after her. He didn’t even try.

It was over.

Marina arrived at her best friend Julia’s apartment in tears. She’d never done anything so bold in her life.

— “Three years I tried to be ‘the good wife,’” she sobbed. — “And they treated me like a doormat.”

Julia wrapped an arm around her.

— “You were brave, Mari. You finally stood up for yourself.”

That night, Marina didn’t sleep. Her phone vibrated constantly with Leo’s missed calls.

By morning, she had made her decision. She picked up the phone and dialed.

— “Hello. I’d like to schedule a consultation with a divorce lawyer.”

The first step had been taken.