“We Bought the Country House Without Your Help. We’ll Handle the Rest Ourselves Too. Stop Bossing Us Around!” the Husband Declared
“One million rubles!”
That figure kept spinning through Valentina’s mind as she nervously paced around the kitchen.
She and Dima had spent an entire week calling all their relatives, but every conversation ended either with a polite refusal or a blunt, “We don’t have the money.”
The opportunity to buy the country house had appeared completely unexpectedly. A neighbor from their apartment building was selling a plot of land with a small house for a ridiculously low price. She urgently needed to move to another city to live with her daughter, which was why she was in such a hurry to sell.
The place was like something out of a fairy tale: a river nearby, a forest, plenty of mushrooms. And most importantly, it was only an hour’s drive from the city.
“Val, how’s it going? Any good news?” her husband asked, peeking into the kitchen.
The confused expression on his face made it obvious that his latest call to his cousin had also led nowhere.
“Nothing,” his wife sighed. “Your mother said they put all their money into renovations. Mine says her pension is barely enough to live on. My sister started talking about her mortgage…”
“And Boris?”
“‘Now isn’t the right time to invest in real estate,’” Valentina mimicked his brother. “Can you imagine? This is the same Boris who bought two apartments last summer! It’s ridiculous!”
What hurt most was hearing a refusal from her mother-in-law.
Galina Petrovna was a woman with an iron grip and an impressive bank account who had always taken pride in “helping the young couple.”
Of course, that help usually consisted of used appliances and old furniture she wanted to get rid of herself.
But this time even she had thrown up her hands.
“Renovations, you understand… It all went on tiles.”
Dmitry sank wearily into a chair.
Both spouses understood that they were almost out of time. In three days, the neighbor was leaving. If they couldn’t find the money, the country house would go to another buyer.
And an opportunity like this came only once in a lifetime.
“Maybe we could try borrowing from Marina?” her husband suggested uncertainly.
Marina was an old university friend of Valentina’s. The women hadn’t been particularly close in recent years, but they occasionally messaged each other.
Valya knew that her former classmate and her husband were successfully running their own business.
“It feels awkward…” his wife began, but Dmitry immediately interrupted her.
“Val, we have nothing to lose. Let’s at least ask.”
She took out her phone and dialed a number she hadn’t called in several months.
Her heart was pounding wildly.
She kept thinking about how humiliating it was to ask someone for a loan, especially such a large amount.
But they had no choice.
“Marina, hi! Sorry to bother you…”
Half an hour later, Valentina sat there stunned.
Marina had listened to the entire story and agreed to help without hesitation.
“I’ll transfer exactly one million in an hour,” her friend said quickly. “Pay it back whenever you can. No interest. We’ll just draw up the paperwork later.”
“Can you believe it?” Valentina excitedly told Dmitry. “She didn’t even ask when we’d return the money! She just said, ‘I’ll help.’”
Dmitry happily wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“So we’re going to have our own country house! They’re right when they say strangers can sometimes be closer than relatives…”
Valentina buried her face against her husband’s shoulder, trying to hold back tears of happiness.
Their dream had finally come true.
They were going to have their own country house.
The first two weeks after the purchase passed in a blur.
Every evening after work, the couple rushed out of the city to clean, repair things, and plan their future garden beds.
By the end of each day, they were exhausted, but happy.
Every corner of the property already felt like home, and their heads were full of ideas.
There would be a barbecue area here, a children’s playground there, and over there they would have a vegetable garden with a greenhouse.
News of their new purchase spread among the relatives like wildfire.
The mother-in-law was the first to call.
“Dimochka, how could you?” the woman asked, poorly concealing the offense in her voice. “Why didn’t you tell us you bought a country house? We could have come and helped…”
“Mom, you already helped. All of you together. Thanks!” her son replied sarcastically.
“Oh, don’t start!” Galina Petrovna protested. “We really are renovating. Besides, somehow you found the money and… thank God for that!”
A meaningful silence followed.
Valentina could imagine her mother-in-law trying to guess where the money had come from.
She had probably already called everyone she knew to find out the details.
“In any case, your father and I are coming on Saturday to see your new property.”
“Mom, we’re not ready to have guests yet,” Dmitry tried to object. “It’s a mess there. Construction materials everywhere…”
“Nonsense! We won’t stay long. I can give you some advice while we’re there! I know quite a lot about country houses. See you!”
After hanging up, Dmitry gave his wife an apologetic look.
“Sorry. You know what Mom’s like…”
On Saturday, the couple had barely arrived at the country house when they saw Dmitry’s father’s car already parked by the gate.
Half an hour later, Boris arrived with his wife and children, followed by Valentina’s sister and her husband.
As if on command, everyone had decided to “just drop by for a minute.”
“Valyechka, why haven’t you painted the fence first?” Galina Petrovna asked critically as she inspected the property. “It’s embarrassing in front of people! And the porch is crooked. Dimochka, at our country house…”
“Mom,” her son interrupted her, “we’ll figure it out ourselves. We’re fine with it.”
“Of course, of course! It’s just that you don’t have much experience. If I were you…”
The entire day turned into one endless tour accompanied by commentary.
The mother-in-law looked into every corner, clicked her tongue disapprovingly, and handed down verdicts.
This had to be demolished.
That had to be redone.
Everything here was wrong.
Boris’s children ran all over the property, trampling the flowers that had just been planted, while their mother pretended not to notice.
“Your outdoor toilet is really old,” the father-in-law declared with authority, poking at the wooden boards. “You should replace it. I happen to know a builder.”
By evening, Valentina was emotionally exhausted.
It seemed as though everyone considered it their duty to point out the property’s flaws and offer “valuable advice.”
And when Boris casually remarked, “Where did you even get the money? You probably got yourselves into payday loans…,” Valentina barely managed to stop herself from snapping at him.
The following weekend, the same thing happened again.
And then again the weekend after that.
Relatives began arriving without warning, bringing food and children as if they were going on a picnic.
“We’re family!” they would say while settling into the couple’s newly purchased garden furniture.
Galina Petrovna even started bringing seedlings and planting them wherever she pleased.
“I’m doing it for you!”
“Maybe we should put a lock on the gate?” Valentina suggested to her husband after yet another family “visit.”
“That seems a little silly…” Dmitry shrugged. “They’re still family.”
But his wife could see that the endless parade of uninvited guests was exhausting him too.
Especially his mother’s constant complaints about how they were doing everything “wrong.”
Then, when Galina Petrovna once again hinted at the “suspicious origin of the money,” Dmitry finally lost his temper.
“What exactly are you trying to say, Mom?” he demanded, sharply turning toward her. “What do you mean by ‘suspicious origin’?”
“Well, son,” his mother said theatrically, throwing up her hands. “All of us refused to lend you money, and suddenly you found such a huge amount. People are saying all sorts of things…”
“What people? Our so-called relatives? Are those the people you’re calling to discuss where our money came from? Explain one thing to me… what business is it of yours?”
Valentina noticed that her husband’s knuckles had turned white around the garden shears in his hand.
She had never seen him this angry in their five years of marriage.
“You know what, Mom?” Dmitry suddenly threw the tool to the ground. “Enough! We managed to buy this place ourselves. Without your help. And we’ll manage everything else ourselves too!”
“Dimochka…”
“No, let me finish! Every one of you turned your backs on us when we actually needed help. And now you come here as if it belongs to you, boss us around, and gossip behind our backs…”
“My God! You think I was trying to hurt you?” Galina Petrovna protested. “I only wanted what was best!”
“Then the best thing you can do is leave us alone!” Dmitry shouted angrily. “Stop coming here without asking. Stop telling us what to do. This is our country house and our life!”
His mother went pale, and tears appeared in her eyes.
“How dare you… After everything we’ve done for you! You’ll regret saying that!”
“Regret what? The fact that you’ve spent years reminding us about every tiny thing you’ve ever done for us? Or that every bit of help from you turns into a lifelong obligation? Or maybe I should regret that when we really needed you, you turned away as if you didn’t even know us?”
Galina Petrovna looked at her son with disappointment, pressed her lips together, and silently began gathering her containers of food.
The father-in-law, who had awkwardly stood off to the side the entire time, tried to ease the tension.
“Come on, why are you behaving like little children…”
“Well then,” Galina Petrovna said in a trembling voice, “if we’re so terrible… Come on, father. Let them handle everything themselves if they’re so independent!”
When his parents’ car disappeared around the corner, Dmitry sank heavily onto a bench.
Valentina silently sat beside him and took his hand.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have lost my temper,” he said quietly. “But I couldn’t take it anymore. Sorry…”
“You did the right thing,” his wife replied firmly. “It was long past time to set some boundaries.”
The following two weeks were surprisingly peaceful.
The couple methodically put their property in order: painting the fence, arranging the garden beds, and repairing the porch.
Gradually, their emotions settled, although the bitterness from the argument remained.
Every evening, as they drove home from the country house, they felt satisfied with what they had accomplished and happy that no one was interfering with their plans.
Their phones rang almost every day.
Sometimes it was Galina Petrovna, sometimes Boris, sometimes other relatives.
Suddenly, everyone had become remarkably concerned.
They asked how the renovations were progressing, offered to help, and wondered whether the couple needed anything brought over.
Galina Petrovna tried especially hard.
It was as though the mother-in-law were trying to make amends, but her efforts seemed far too exaggerated.
“Do you think they really regret it?” Valentina asked one day after her husband declined yet another call from his mother.
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “But I don’t really believe in this sudden concern.”
Valentina nodded.
She didn’t believe in the relatives’ sudden friendliness either.
It seemed too unnatural.
Besides, she still remembered how much her mother-in-law liked telling stories about her “ungrateful son” and “arrogant daughter-in-law.”
In the middle of August, another call came from Galina Petrovna.
Valentina sighed heavily, answered the phone and… was genuinely surprised.
This time, Galina Petrovna’s voice sounded unusually gentle.
“Valechka, sweetheart, your father and I were thinking… Maybe it’s time we all stopped being angry with one another? Come over for dinner on Saturday. A family dinner. A reconciliation dinner, so to speak. Relatives shouldn’t stay angry with each other for so long!”
Valentina looked questioningly at her husband, who was standing nearby and listening closely to the conversation.
“I invited everyone,” her mother-in-law continued cheerfully. “Boris and his family, and your sister too. We’ll make shashlik, play some music. Just like before. I’ll make that special salad—you know how well I make it… Say yes!”
After the call ended, the spouses remained silent for a long time.
Each was lost in thought.
“Maybe we really should go?” Dmitry finally said. “We can’t stay at war forever.”
“It all feels a little staged,” Valentina sighed. “But you’re right. We should at least try. They’re still our parents…”
Throughout the entire week before the gathering, Galina Petrovna called every day to discuss the details.
Sometimes she asked about their favorite dishes.
Sometimes she offered to pick them up.
The excessive attention made them suspicious, but the couple decided to give reconciliation a chance.
On Saturday, they arrived at Dmitry’s parents’ house carrying a bottle of wine and a cake.
Everyone was already gathered in the yard.
Boris was there with his wife and children, as were Valentina’s sister and her husband, and one of Galina Petrovna’s aunts.
The mother-in-law hurried around the fully set table, constantly straightening the tablecloth and rearranging plates.
It was obvious that she had prepared thoroughly.
The first half hour was tense.
Everyone seemed to be walking through a minefield, carefully choosing every word.
But gradually, after several toasts “to reconciliation” and “to family happiness,” the atmosphere began to warm.
“Do you remember, Dimka, when you were a kid…” Boris began telling a story, and everyone laughed.
One story followed another.
Music played.
The children ran around the yard.
Valentina even caught herself thinking that she hadn’t seen everyone this relaxed and sincere in a long time.
Even her mother-in-law, who usually maintained the image of a strict and proper woman, laughed genuinely a couple of times at her son-in-law’s jokes.
Galina Petrovna had outdone herself with the cooking.
The table was overflowing with appetizers and hot dishes.
“I know what you like, son,” she kept saying as she put another serving of his favorite aspic onto Dmitry’s plate.
After dinner, when the mother-in-law turned on her favorite hits from the 1980s, everyone got up to dance.
The cousin and his wife spun around in a waltz.
Valentina’s sister sang softly while dancing with a glass of wine in her hand.
Even the children joined in, imitating modern dance moves.
Dmitry used the opportunity to go to the bathroom.
As he walked through the dark hallway, he heard muffled voices coming from the kitchen.
His mother and Boris were talking quietly.
There was something in their tone that sent a chill down his spine…
Dmitry froze beside the half-open kitchen door.
His brother’s and mother’s voices were quiet, but perfectly clear.
“This makes me so furious!” Boris said irritably. “I had already found a buyer for that country house. After renovating it, I could have sold it for three times the price. And then everything went down the drain!”
“Calm down,” Galina Petrovna sighed. “What’s the point in talking about it now? They already renovated the house and improved the property. You can’t change anything anymore. It’s too late!”
“Exactly! Now they could sell it for three times the price themselves if they wanted to. And I put so much effort into it! I called every relative and convinced them to refuse to help Dimka. I promised everyone a little ‘gift’ from the deal…”
Dmitry could barely believe his ears.
Could this really be true?
“What else was I supposed to do?” Boris continued. “The owner told me directly: if Dimka backs out, she’ll sell the property to me. If he doesn’t, then goodbye! So I took action… And everyone agreed happily! Who turns down money? You can never have too much of it. Everything was going so smoothly, damn it! I still can’t figure out who decided to help them. The whole deal fell apart!”
“Borya, enough! We did everything we could!” Galina Petrovna chuckled. “We even went there and kept telling them how terrible and run-down the place was… We thought maybe they’d change their minds.”
“And what good did that do?” Boris snorted. “All we accomplished was a huge fight. I had already planned to renovate it and sell it to that businessman. He was looking for land to build a cottage, you know…”
“All right, you’ll find something else,” Galina Petrovna said soothingly. “It’s not as if this is your first time doing something like this.”
Dmitry recoiled from the doorway.
“They’re our own family,” he whispered bitterly. “How could they?”
He remembered how he and Valya had counted every kopek, how they had spent several weeks eating potatoes and kefir so they could afford the country house.
And their relatives…
Their relatives had simply conspired against them behind their backs.
Dmitry returned to the room, where everyone was still dancing.
His wife noticed his pale face and immediately hurried toward him.
“What happened?”
“We’re going home. I’ll explain everything later.”
The couple said goodbye to the relatives, claiming that Dmitry had a headache, and left immediately.
In the car, Dmitry told his wife about the conversation he had overheard.
Valentina listened in silence.
Only her fingers, tightly gripping her handbag, turned white from tension.
“And my sister…” she finally said. “She agreed too? For money?”
“Apparently,” Dmitry replied bitterly. “They’re all the same.”
At home, the couple sat in the dark kitchen for a long time.
Suddenly, Valentina took out her phone and methodically began blocking numbers.
Her sister.
Her mother-in-law.
Boris.
Each tap on the screen seemed to put an end to another relationship.
“You know,” she said after finishing, “I always believed family was sacred. But I’d rather have no relatives at all than relatives like these.”
Dmitry hugged his wife tightly.
“At least now we know who everyone really is. And we have our country house. We earned it honestly and got it through our own efforts. And we’ll definitely pay Marina back.”
“Yes…” Valentina said. “It’s better to deal with strangers than with relatives like these. At least with strangers, you don’t expect betrayal.”
Outside the window, the summer evening slowly faded.
At the couple’s country house, an unfinished veranda, half-planted flower beds, and plenty of work were waiting for them.
But now they knew for certain that everything they were doing, they were doing for themselves.
And only for themselves.
As for the betrayal by their relatives…
Perhaps it was for the best.
At least now all the masks had finally come off.