Elena slowly rose from the armchair, crossing her arms over her chest. There was not a trace of fear in her gaze, only cold calmness.
“And what, Tamara Nikolaevna, do you intend to do? Blackmail me with your own son?”
“I will explain to Andrey what a selfish wife you are,” the mother-in-law leaned forward. “I’ll tell him how you refuse to help his sick parents, how you hide money!”
“Sick?” Elena smirked. “Viktor Petrovich, are you really sick? Or is your wife making up stories again to get money?”
Her father-in-law shifted awkwardly on the sofa, avoiding direct eye contact.
“I… I have high blood pressure…” he muttered.
“Many people have high blood pressure. That’s no reason to demand money from your daughter-in-law,” Elena cut in sharply. “Especially when your pension is quite enough to live on normally, if you don’t buy eight-thousand-ruble handbags.”
Tamara Nikolaevna flared up:
“How do you know about the handbag? Are you spying on us?”
“Your own sister told me. She was shocked by that purchase.”
“We have the right to spend our money as we want!” the mother-in-law shouted.
“Of course you do. Just as I have the right to spend my money on what I consider necessary,” Elena paused. “My salary is not for your whims, but for the future of my children.”
“How dare you!” Tamara Nikolaevna jumped up from the sofa. “Have you forgotten that we are family? That my son supports you?”
“Supports me?” Elena laughed coldly. “Tamara Nikolaevna, I earn more than your son. This apartment belongs to me, not him. I pay the utility bills. I buy the groceries. I buy clothes for the children. Who exactly is your son supporting?”
“Andrey works! He brings money into the family!”
“Yes, he works. And his salary goes to his personal needs, the car, and helping you. Everything else is on me.”
Viktor Petrovich tugged his wife’s sleeve:
“Tamara, maybe enough? You see, she won’t give anything.”
“No, not enough!” the mother-in-law turned to her husband. “We are old, sick, and she sits on a pile of money and refuses to help!”
“You are not old or sick,” Elena said patiently. “You are both around sixty, you are capable of working. Viktor Petrovich works as a security guard and earns decent money. You have a dacha rented out in the summer. Your income is enough to live on.”
“Not enough!” Tamara Nikolaevna snapped. “Prices are rising, utilities are getting more expensive!”
“Then learn to economize.”
Tamara Nikolaevna rushed to the door:
“That’s it! Andrey will find out who he lives with! He will find out how stingy you are!”
“Please, tell him,” Elena replied calmly, seeing them to the door. “I don’t care anymore.”

When the door closed, Elena understood — this was only the beginning of the confrontation.

Andrey came home late, around eleven. By his gloomy face, Elena knew his parents had already talked to him.
“We need to have a serious talk,” he said without greeting her.
“About what exactly?” Elena continued folding the children’s things.
“About what you told my parents. Mom was crying on the phone.”
“And what upset her? That I refused to finance your needs?”
“And Elena!” Andrey raised his voice. “They are my parents! They raised me, gave me an education!”
“Supported you?” Elena turned to her husband. “You helped them before we met. After the wedding, you moved in with me, and expenses on them only increased.”
“And what’s wrong with that? I help my parents!”
“Nothing wrong. Help them with your salary, not with my savings.”
“Our savings!” Andrey shouted. “We are family, everything is shared!”
“No, Andrey. We have nothing in common. This apartment belongs to me. The money I saved for the children is also mine.”
Andrey sat on the sofa:
“When did you become so cruel? You used to be different.”
“I didn’t have children before, whose future I am responsible for,” Elena sat opposite him. “I grew up poor. My mom and I counted every kopek. I don’t want Maxim and Sofia to experience the same.”
“My parents are not to blame for your childhood!”
“No, they are not. But I am not obliged to compensate them for my success.”
“So, your husband’s family doesn’t matter to you?”
“Your family needs to learn to live within their means. Your parents have pensions, your father has a side job. That’s enough.”
“Not enough!” Andrey exploded. “You’re just greedy! Hoarding money like a miser!”
“I am securing the children’s future. Maxim will soon go to school, then university. Sofia will also need education. Do you want them to work from childhood like I did?”
“You are exaggerating everything!” Andrey stood up and began pacing. “It’s not about all the savings! It’s about helping my parents!”
“It’s about the fact that your parents are used to living at others’ expense,” Elena answered coldly. “And you support them.”
“If you don’t change your attitude toward my family, we have nothing to talk about.”
“Indeed, nothing to talk about,” Elena stood up. “You can pack your things.”
“What?” Andrey froze.
“Pack your things. You shouldn’t be here tomorrow morning.”
“You can’t kick me out! This is our home!”
“No, Andrey. This apartment was inherited from my grandmother. It’s registered in my name. I decide who lives here.”
“And the children? Will you deprive them of their father?”
“The children will stay with me. You can see them. But you won’t live here.”

The next day, Andrey packed and left. Elena filed for divorce a week later. The court proceedings were quick — there was no joint property, the apartment belonged to her.
Child support was set at one-third of his salary for both children. Elena did not ask for more — her own income was enough.

A year after the divorce, she worked at the computer while the children slept. Her account held an amount sufficient to pay for each child’s education at the best universities.
She did not regret her decision. The house was quiet — no reproaches, no demands for money, no attempts to dip into her savings. The children were fed, clothed, and loved. Their future was reliably protected from the encroachments of others.