— Larissa, why don’t you make some meatballs? I miss your…
She looked up from her cup and looked him straight in the eyes. She didn’t smile. She didn’t sigh. She simply said calmly but firmly:
— Ask your mother if she would fry you some meatballs, after all, you gave her money for the sanatorium. Maybe he even has a frying pan there, who knows?
Dima stood with his hand raised as if her words had slapped him in the face. He tried to smile, to joke, but Lari remained serious. More serious than ever.
– Lari, come on… Don’t be mad. This is my mother… She had no money, she was in a bad condition…
– How are we doing, Dima? How am I doing? What if every cent we earn disappears somewhere and our dreams remain unfulfilled? Still thinking “maybe someday”?
– I just couldn’t say no to her. This is my mother…
— And my mother is also my mother. But you know, the difference is that my husband doesn’t call me every morning to remind me of my guilt.
On the other hand, your client takes your hand more often than the debt collector. And you know what? I’m tired of being second choice in my family. Because that’s what I’ve become, Dima. Temporary solution.
She got up from the table and started cleaning up the empty cups. Her movements were calm and mechanical. Dima watched her silently, like a boy caught with his hand in the jam jar.
– And… did you really send all the money to your mother?
– Yes. Three hundred and twelve thousand. She said she wanted to go to the seaside. So I paid for her ticket. Accommodation included in the price. She deserves it too, right?
— But… what about us?
— Us? We’ll handle the rest as usual. Or maybe this time you’ll learn what it’s like to be left empty-handed because someone else “needs them more.”
There was silence. Only the old refrigerator hummed quietly in the background. Dima slowly sat down in a chair and put his head in his hands.
– I never thought it would hurt you so much…
– You never wanted to think about it either. It was easier for you to close your eyes and say, “Oh, Lari will calm down, she’s understanding.”
But you know what? I can’t calm down anymore. I’m tired of being lenient.
After a long pause, Dima stood up and walked towards her. His voice became softer.
– Forgive me… I made a mistake. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to destroy what we have…
Lari looked at him not with anger, but with fatigue.
– Then prove it to me. Not with flowers. Not with words. Through actions. Next time your mom calls and asks for money, have the courage to say no. Or at least “not now.”
– You’re right…
— And one more thing. Starting today, we will discuss our finances together. No more unilateral decisions. We are a team. Or we are nothing.
Dima nodded. He knew that if he disappointed her again, Lari wouldn’t wait any longer. She loved him, but love alone was no substitute for respect and balance.
The next day, Dima sold his expensive bicycle, which had been standing unused in the utility room for two years. With the money obtained, he bought Larisa a new electric stove and a blender.
He returned home with shopping bags and a short note:
“For our dreams. You deserve it.”
Larisa looked at him and smiled for the first time in a long time.
– I see you’re starting to understand…
— Still want to go on vacation?
— If there is anything left after the installments are distributed, then yes. But you know… the best holidays start with peace and quiet at home.
And there were no meatballs that night. But there were baked potatoes, laughter and plans written on the corner of an old notebook.
For the first time in a long time, Dima wasn’t waiting for a call from his mother. He silenced his phone. He held his wife’s hand. And he remained silent. But this silence was different. It was full of promises.
