“What Do You Want From Me? That I Start Beating My Wife, Mom?! You’ve Completely Lost Your Mind!”

Pressure on the Husband’s Shoulders

Evgeny, her husband, stepped out of the room, rubbing his tired face, forcing a weak smile. “Good morning, Mother. We just got up, haven’t had time to clean yet.”

“Morning isn’t good when the house is neglected,” Alla Sergeyevna replied sharply, her gaze fixed on the pan on the stove. “What’s this? More greens? You need meat! Strength, vitality comes from meat, not… this green stuff. Look at you, thin and pale.”

Evgeny glanced at Daria, hoping she would speak, but she only tightened her grip on the knife. “We eat what we like, Alla Sergeyevna,” she said, her voice even but firm. In the two words “we,” there was a clear boundary: a line the mother-in-law was not allowed to cross.

A Direct Confrontation

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