
“Shut Your Mouth!” He Snapped at His Wife—But the Secret She Revealed the Next Day Left Everyone Speechless
“Enough about the trip. My sister and her family are visiting tomorrow,” Yegor muttered firmly, tossing the remote onto the couch.
“Please stop going on about your sea!” he added sharply. “Inna is arriving tomorrow with her husband and kids. We’re not going anywhere.”
A Dream Deferred
The words h:it Vera like a cold gust of wind. She froze mid-step, a brochure featuring bright images of turquoise waters trembling in her hands.
“What do you mean, stop bothering you?”
She gently placed the brochure on the table. Yegor sat slouched in his chair, flipping through channels, the television casting a cold glow on his expressionless face.
“What did you just say?” she asked softly, but with an edge in her voice.
“I said what I said. Inna, Andrey, and their kids will be here for a month. Forget about the vacation.”
A month. The word echoed, heavy and suffocating. Vera felt something tighten inside.
“Yegor, we planned this trip months ago. It’s already paid for,” she said slowly, carefully choosing her words. “I’ve been looking forward to it all year…”
“And I’m telling you—it’s not happening,” he said curtly, smacking the table. “Family matters more than your little getaway.”
Little getaway? Vera’s face flushed. What about all those late nights she spent budgeting, sacrificing things she wanted, saving for this dream?
“Whims, Yegor?” she asked, stepping closer, her voice steadier. “I work nonstop. When was the last time I had a break?”
“Don’t start with the complaints.” He raised the volume on the TV. “Inna barely visits. That’s that.”
Rarely? Vera held back a bitter laugh. Inna showed up every summer like clockwork—along with her noisy children and her husband who treated the kitchen like a buffet.
“Yegor, please hear me out,” she said, sitting opposite him. “I understand family is important. But I’m a person too. I have my own needs, my own hopes…”
“What hopes? To sit on a beach? To swim in the sea? What are you, a child?”
Child. Vera looked at him—her husband of fifteen years—and wondered when he became so cold, so distant.
“Yes, I want the sea,” she said, standing up. “I want to hear the waves, walk barefoot in the sand. I want to feel like myself again—not just a caretaker for everyone else.”
Yegor stood too. “Those are my sister’s kids!”
“And they’ll wreck the house the moment they arrive!” Vera burst out. “They’ll shout, break things, demand everything! And Inna will lie around, complaining!”
“Enough!” he said, face tight with frustration. “Inna’s a great mother!”
“Then why do her kids run wild?” Vera snapped. “Remember last year? Broken vase, graffiti on the walls, almost a kitchen fire?”
“They’re just kids…”
“And what about me?” Vera’s voice trembled. “Do I not count?”
Yegor stared at her, taken aback. This wasn’t the woman he was used to—a woman now standing firm, her eyes fiery.
“Inna’s coming tomorrow,” he said quietly. “End of discussion.”
“Then you greet them alone.” She turned and walked away.
“Where are you going?”
“To think.”
To think about how long she could continue living with someone who saw her only as a helper.
She shut the bedroom door behind her. Silence filled the house—tense and unmoving.
The Arrival
Vera lay on the bed, eyes on the ceiling, still holding the now-crumpled travel brochure. She had imagined this trip down to every detail: morning strolls by the shore, salty air, no chores, no noise. And now? A month of being a maid to a family that barely acknowledged her.
Is there even a choice?
Rain greeted her the next morning. A black SUV pulled into the driveway. From the window, she watched Inna emerge—bleached blond hair, bright pink tracksuit, already yelling at her husband.
“Andrey, be careful! My new shoes are in there!”
Andrey—short, broad, clearly tired—unloaded bags without a word.
The kids followed. Maxim, ten, stomped through puddles. Sonya, seven, screamed about a forgotten doll. Dima, four, cried for no reason at all.
“Vera!” Yegor called. “They’re here!”
As if she hadn’t seen.
Vera slowly made her way downstairs. The hallway was in chaos. Inna’s lipstick had already marked Yegor’s shirt. Bags were everywhere. The children ran wild.
“Verochka!” Inna pulled her into a hug. “You’ve lost weight! Were you ill?”
Vera pulled back politely. “Hello, Inna. How was your trip?”
“Awful,” Inna sighed. “The kids were impossible, Andrey got lost three times, and I nearly passed out from the heat. Where’s the air conditioning? Please tell me you have it!”
“Yes. In the bedroom.”
“And the living room?” Inna asked. “We’ll sleep there. Andrey snores.”
Of course. Vera looked at Yegor, who busied himself with the luggage.
“Mom, bathroom?” Maxim asked.
“There,” Vera pointed.
The boy ran, leaving muddy footprints. Sonya picked up a crystal candlestick.
“Put that down, please.”
“What is it?” she asked. “Can I play with it?”
“No. It’s fragile.”
“But I’m careful!”
“Sonya, listen to Aunt Vera,” Andrey said gently.
“She’s not my aunt!” the girl snapped.
An awkward silence followed. Inna chuckled nervously.
“Kids say the funniest things.”
Vera retrieved the candlestick and moved it out of reach. Sonya wandered off in search of new mischief.
“What’s this hole in the wall?” Maxim asked, jabbing at an empty nail hole.
“We were going to hang a picture,” Vera replied.
“Can I stick my finger in it?”
“No!” she said, alarmed. “It could be sharp.”
“But why not?!”
“Maxim, please,” Andrey sighed.
“She’s not my aunt!” the children chimed in together.
Then Dima began to cry loudly—for no reason.
“I want to go home!” he sobbed. “I want grandma!”
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Inna soothed him. “We’re just visiting. You’ll get used to it.”
Vera took in the scene—muddy floors, noise, chaos.
“Maybe they’re just tired,” she suggested. “Would anyone like something to eat?”
“Yes, please! We’re starving,” Inna said. “What do you have?”
What do I have? Vera realized the fridge was nearly empty—stocked only for two people.
“I’ll make something,” she said quietly.
“Perfect!” Inna flopped onto the couch. “Kids, don’t break anything!”
Of course, they did. Maxim went through bookshelves, Sonya blasted cartoons, Dima rubbed his face into the cushions.
A month. Vera looked at Yegor, cheerfully arranging bags.
“Inna, do you have baby food?” she asked.
“No.”
“Then go buy some,” Inna replied. “I’ll make you a list.”
Vera felt something inside her quietly snap.
“Sure. Make the list,” she said with calm clarity.
An Unexpected Call
Three days passed.
Three long, noisy days.
Maxim broke plates. Sonya drew on the wallpaper. Dima wet the bed every night. Inna lounged on the couch. Andrey chain-smoked. Yegor played host like it was a reunion show.
On the fourth day, the phone rang while Vera flipped pancakes.
“Hello?”
“Vera Nikolaevna? This is Southern Breeze Travel. We have an update about your Sochi trip.”
“I’m listening,” she said.
“The hotel was overbooked. We’ve upgraded you to a better one. If you leave today, there’s no extra fee.”
“Today?” Vera asked, stunned.
“Yes. The train departs at 16:40.”
Another crash. More yelling from the living room. Vera checked the clock—10:30.
“I’m going,” she said. “Please send the ticket to my email.”
With trembling hands, she finished cooking and went upstairs.
She packed quickly—swimsuits, dresses, sandals.
“Vera!” Inna came in. “What are you doing?”
“Packing.”
“For where?”
“The sea,” she said, calm as ever.
“You can’t leave!”
“I can. And I will.”
“But who’ll handle everything here?”
“You and Andrey.”
“We’re guests!”
“Exactly. Guests should respect their host.”
The Departure
Yegor rushed in. “Vera, what’s this about?!”
“I’m going on the vacation I planned.”
“You’re leaving? Over this?”
“No. I’m leaving because I’ve had enough.”
“You can’t just walk away!”
“I already did,” she said, walking to the door.
“Where are you even going?”
She held up her phone. “Train ticket. 16:40.”
Mikhail Ivanovich, their neighbor, stood outside as she opened the door.
“Vera, off on a trip?”
“Yes. Finally.”
“Good for you,” he said. “People forget to take care of themselves.”
“Mikhail Ivanovich,” Vera asked suddenly. “Want to earn a little money? Watch the kids?”
He peeked in and winced. “Does it pay?”
“Yegor will handle that.”
Yegor opened his mouth, then closed it.
“Done!” the old man said.
Vera gave him a grateful kiss on the cheek and walked away—free at last.
A New Life
Two weeks in Sochi felt like a dream. Morning walks, books, peaceful dinners, quiet sunsets. Her phone buzzed endlessly. Yegor begged, apologized, shouted. But she didn’t respond.
On the last day, he asked, “When are you coming back?”
“Tomorrow,” she said. “But not to you.”
Back in the city, she moved in with a friend and found a new job at a travel agency. Every day, she helped others plan their own escapes.
“You must travel a lot,” a client once said.
“Not yet,” Vera smiled. “But now, I finally can.”
In December, as snowflakes fell, she booked a solo New Year trip to Sochi. Her second visit—on her terms.
Because now, Vera knew: she wasn’t someone’s wife, someone’s helper, or a background figure in someone else’s life.
She was simply Vera.
And that was enough.
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