Igor sighed and winced as he heard the doorbell ring.

The visit from his father-in-law and mother-in-law had been planned in advance, but up until the last moment, the man had hoped for a miracle—what if they changed their minds?

Like a schoolboy who hadn’t prepared his homework, he wished fruitlessly for his teacher to fall ill or, even better, for the class to be canceled, and then…

“Igor, open the door!” came his wife’s voice from the room.

Forcing a friendly smile onto his face, Igor opened the door.

The first to flutter into the hallway was his tiny, desperately trying to look younger mother-in-law, Anna Mikhaylovna. If Igor hadn’t known her real age, he would have easily mistaken her for a woman his age, perhaps just a little older.

This lady had flawless, porcelain-like skin, a soft, kind smile, and eyes full of seeming innocence.

However… how wrong were those who, enchanted by Anna Mikhaylovna’s almost angelic appearance, found themselves caught in her sharp claws and keen grip.

This iron lady had a tough and calculating character.

It cost Igor dearly to realize this mistake. When he met Yulya, who was a perfect copy of his mother, he too was taken in by her innocent look and delicate, doll-like appearance. Only after the wedding did the young man realize that Yulya wasn’t just a copy of Anna Mikhaylovna, but a worse version of her.

The thing was, besides the authoritarian character that Yulya inherited from her mother, she was also incredibly jealous and hot-tempered. In moments of emotional outbursts, Yulya became extremely aggressive. Initially, she would just scream in anger, but soon she began throwing objects at her husband, charging at him, trying to scratch his face.

Recently, she had started attacking, grabbing anything within reach. Once, she even charged at him with a fork lying on the table. Fortunately, Igor managed to intercept her swinging arm just in time. The cause of her anger was often unfounded jealousy. It was enough for Igor to greet the neighbor warmly, and a scandal would break out at home, complete with yelling and physical altercations.

However, these bursts of rage were short-lived—like a summer storm. The clouds would drift away on the horizon as though they had never been there, and the sun would shine gently in a cloudless sky. After an episode of uncontrollable rage, Yulya would throw herself around Igor’s neck (and after the incident with the fork—at his feet), hugging him passionately and begging for forgiveness. She even promised to see a psychiatrist. And Igor forgave her, understanding that no one was perfect.

Following his wife into the apartment came his father-in-law, Ivan Ivanovich, a tall, large man with a strong chin and a gentle character.

Perhaps, in his youth, Ivan Ivanovich’s character matched the shape of his chin, but over the years of living with Anna Mikhaylovna, that character had been “broken.” All that remained was a chin that meant nothing.

There was no particular reason for the visit from his wife’s parents.

It was a ritual Saturday visit.

The tradition of visiting each other once a week had been established by Anna Mikhaylovna and her daughter, and the men simply complied. The older one bent according to habit, while the younger one did so with growing irritation.

Igor didn’t like visiting his wife’s parents, nor their return visits. Usually, the whole tiring procedure boiled down to the same thing. It happened according to the same pattern.

Igor would sit at the table, feeling his shoulders tense up, and start an internal timer, counting the sixty minutes allotted for this event. Anna Mikhaylovna would immediately start dominating the conversation, as though everyone around her, especially her husband, were merely props in her performance.

Igor was repulsed when she mockingly and repeatedly made her husband get up from the table, ordering him to do something, and he, like a submissive shadow, would carry out her instructions with a resigned smile on his face.

“Why can’t he take on the role of a man in their family? Why does he agree to be her slave?” Igor thought during their first dinners. But soon, with horror, he realized that such a role, the silent, obedient “Alenya,” was also destined for him.

At first, when Yulya was still obedient and gentle, Igor would look at his father-in-law with confusion, trying to catch any sign of resistance in him. Trying to appear calm, he caught the glance of his wife’s father, who tried to joke about his situation and about himself.

“Here’s my wife—fire, a real leader!” Ivan Ivanovich would say with an embarrassed smile, but his eyes showed only submission.

“It seems that in Yulya’s parents’ home, there’s no place for true equality, no place for respect,” Igor thought at his first dinner with them. “I can’t understand how one can be so submissive and content in such a relationship. Maybe they had a fight before dinner… or maybe my father-in-law did something really bad to Anna Mikhaylovna?”

However, it didn’t take more than six months for Igor to realize that such relationships between Yulya’s parents were not the exception, but the norm.

“It seems I’ve fallen into this…,” he thought despondently.

Especially since his own wife had already begun to show a character similar to her mother’s, with “additions” in the form of fierce outbursts of anger.

That evening, everything went as usual—Anna Mikhaylovna’s familiar, commanding, condescending tone towards her husband, a gentle and playful, almost flirtatious manner towards her son-in-law, and a cooing, friendly tone towards her daughter.

To be honest, Igor had initially wanted to skip the dinner—he was already tired of watching his father-in-law’s obedient “tail-wagging.”

At the same time, the situation was complicated by the fact that he himself was gradually starting to resemble Ivan Ivanovich.

He hadn’t started wagging his tail yet, but he was tolerating Yulya’s condescending tone with a resigned air.

And yesterday, she threw another tantrum with a “mind-numbing” finale that ended with the destruction of a beloved antique vase—a rare piece Igor had kept as a memento of his dear grandmother.

“Pack your things and get out of here,” he said calmly and coldly, looking at the broken pieces.

But Yulya… Oh, Yulya… She cried, begged, and pleaded for his forgiveness: “Last time, I swear!”

During the scandal, Igor thought he wouldn’t be able to forgive her. But he gave in. He forgave her. But the aftertaste remained.

What aftertaste? There was an entire layer of muck in his soul, and he didn’t understand why he still tolerated her and hadn’t thrown her out of the apartment.

Does he love her? He wasn’t sure there was any love left—his wife’s antics and character had trampled it completely.

Does he feel sorry for her? Maybe. But only a little. He regretted more that he hadn’t really spent time with her parents before the wedding. Maybe then he would have figured out what was what.

Had he gotten used to her? Probably yes.

However, Igor realized that their relationship was doomed—Yulya would never change.

“If something like this happens again, we’re done. Got it?!” he told his wife yesterday after making up.

“Yes, yes, yes… Never again. I will control myself. But all of this is just because I love you so much and I’m jealous… Tomorrow… Oh no… Tomorrow is Saturday… On Monday, I’ll go to a psychologist, or maybe even straight to a psychiatrist.”

The dinner was nearing its end when Igor received a message on his phone.

Since he had been eagerly waiting for a reply to an important question, he couldn’t resist glancing at the document that had been sent.

The information in it was extremely significant, and he became engrossed.

“Gary! Gary!!!” A sharp poke in the shoulder brought him back to reality.

Igor absentmindedly—his mind still on the document—turned his head to the woman who had poked him.

“What do you think you’re doing?! You’re staring at your phone while we have guests. How can you be so rude?! This, by the way, is disrespectful to my parents and to me!”

“Sorry,” Igor nodded to the now-silent parents. His father-in-law gave a knowing nod in response, but his mother-in-law smiled slyly and shook her head in disapproval. “But this is an extremely important message.”

And then everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

Igor lowered his eyes to the smartphone screen again…

Yulya’s hand tried to snatch the gadget…

He raised the phone high above his head…

And then Yulya swung her hand and slapped him with all her might…

So hard that his head jerked back in surprise.

“Yulya! What are you doing?!” Ivan Ivanovich exclaimed in astonishment.

“Calm down, daughter, cool off… Igor… What have you done to make the girl have such a nervous breakdown?” Anna Mikhaylovna cooed.

Yulya, not yet having released all her anger, wound up for a second strike, but Igor intercepted her hand, which immediately went limp.

A silence fell. And then…

Suddenly, Igor felt completely happy and free.

He broke into a smile and cheerfully said: “Now, let’s all get up from the table and head out! Ivan Ivanovich, I’m sorry, nothing personal, but as an integral part of this family… you too.”

“Gary! Have you lost your mind?!” Yulya stared at her husband in shock. “How dare you throw my parents out of our house?!”

“Didn’t you get it? Everyone out, including you. You, darling, are at the head of the procession… Ten minutes to pack… The rest I’ll pack and send to the address you provide.”

“But… Igor… I’m your wife…”

“Almost ex-wife. Got it? By the way… Don’t waste time talking—throw your stuff in a backpack. You have eight minutes left.”

“Hooray!!!” Igor silently rejoiced inside as he closed the door. He had never felt so thoroughly happy in his life.

The man straightened his shoulders and took a deep, free breath, recalling the envious, admiring look his father-in-law had given him as he left. Almost ex.