Then it was time for the bride’s parents. They walked up empty-handed.
«Well, what do you expect? They’re from the country,» Raisa whispered snidely to her husband.
The in-laws congratulated the couple and read a heartfelt speech. Raisa Mikolaivna just smirked. Suddenly, Katya’s father, Andrei Borisovich, pulled a small box from his pocket. He opened it, and the entire room froze in shock.
«Son, why her?» Raisa Mikolaivna had demanded sternly weeks earlier. «I know her type. She’s only interested in getting her hands on our apartment.»
«Mom, she’s not like that. She’s wonderful,» Roman argued. «We love each other.»
«Love? What love?» Raisa scoffed. «Don’t talk nonsense. She wants the apartment! She saw a boy from a wealthy family and set her sights on you.»
«Actually, I’m not a ‘boy’ anymore,» Roman corrected her. «I’ll be thirty next year.»
«Exactly!» his mother shot back. «You’re almost thirty and you still don’t have any sense. You should find a wife from a proper family, not one of these… outsiders.»
«That’s enough. I’m done listening to this!» Roman snapped, turning on his heel and retreating to his room.
Seeking support, Raisa called her husband at work. Through tears, she complained that their «little Roma» was set on marrying a gold-digger who would surely seize their property, ruin them, and—God forbid—give them a grandchild with no pedigree.
«It’s his business and his life. Stay out of it. Look, I’m busy, I have a meeting,» Grigory Romanovich said dryly before hanging up.
Offended, Raisa muttered to the dead phone, «You’re always too busy! I’m the only one who ever has to solve anything around here.»
After a moment’s thought, she called Leonid, a family friend and Roman’s boss.
«Leonid, you heard Roman is thinking of getting married?» Raisa started, her voice trembling. «If it were a girl from a good family, fine—but no, he had to find some drifter. He claims it’s love. You know how manipulative girls are these days. Leonid, please, talk to him. He might listen to you.»
«Raisa, calm down!» Leonid said, sounding genuinely happy. «Katya is a fantastic girl! Roma is lucky; she’s going to be a wonderful wife.»
«Wait, you know her?» Raisa asked, stunned.
«Of course! She’s my head of accounting. She’s brilliant, well-mannered, and highly respected by the whole team. So what if she’s from out of town? More than half my staff moved here for work, and many of them have achieved more than people who had everything handed to them. Don’t worry—be happy for him.»
«Leonid, try to understand me as a mother! He doesn’t need her! Fire her!» she wailed into the phone.
«Raisa, stay out of my business and out of Roman’s life,» Leonid said sternly. «He’s a grown man; he can handle it. I have to go. Calm down and stop stressing over things that aren’t your decision.»
Raisa sank onto the sofa, feeling defeated. No one understood her. But she was the mother—she knew best what would make Roman happy.
After a sleepless night, she had an epiphany. The next morning, wearing a mask of humble resignation, she said:
«Fine, Roman. I won’t try to talk you out of the wedding. If you love her, marry her. But I have one condition: you must sign a prenuptial agreement. That way, you’ll see for yourself if she’s after your money. And even if things don’t work out, she won’t be able to ruin you. Also, you won’t be living with us. I don’t want another woman trying to run my kitchen.»
«Mom, how can you even say that?» Roman was outraged. «She doesn’t care about the money!»
«Son,» Raisa said firmly, «this is my condition.»
Roman gave her a look of deep disappointment and left for work.
«Roman, haven’t you introduced Katya to your parents yet?» Leonid asked when Roman arrived at the office.
«No,» Roman sighed heavily. «You know my mother; she doesn’t like anyone. I didn’t want to lose Katya, so I didn’t say a word until she agreed to marry me. And now my mother is demanding a prenup.»
«Classic Raisa,» Leonid shook his head.
Roman didn’t have the heart to tell Katya about the condition, but his mother brought it up herself the moment Roman brought her home for the formal introduction. Katya raised an eyebrow for a split second, then calmly replied:
«It doesn’t matter to me. If it makes you feel better, I don’t mind signing it.»
She’s craftier than she looks, Raisa thought. Aloud, she said, «You understand, Katya dear, I’d like to believe this is true love and not just a financial calculation… Life can be unpredictable, after all.»
«I understand,» Katya said with a cryptic smile.
She’s up to something. I know it! Raisa worried.
«Katya,» Roman said as he drove her home later. «I hate this whole idea of a prenup. I’m so sorry.»
«Don’t worry about it,» Katya soothed him. «If it gives her peace of mind, let’s just sign it.»
Roman breathed a sigh of relief. He trusted Katya completely and hated that the topic had even come up.
When Katya’s parents heard she was getting married, they traveled to the city to meet Roman and his family. They took an immediate liking to Roman and approved of their daughter’s choice.
Roman’s father and Katya’s father shared similar outlooks on life and hit it off instantly. The mothers, however, were a different story. The tension was palpable. When Raisa heard that Katya’s parents were in «dairy production,» she immediately lost interest, dismissing them as simple peasants from a farm.
Throughout the meeting, Raisa went out of her way to emphasize her family’s «noble» background and high social status, boasting about their successful relatives. Katya’s mother, Elena Sergeyevna, listened politely, nodding and smiling. But when she heard about the prenuptial agreement, she looked at her daughter in shock.
«Honey, you’re doing what?!»
«Everything in a family should be shared. Marriage is a union, not a contract.»
«Mom, it’s fine,» Katya said, calming her down.
Elena Sergeyevna didn’t push the issue further; she simply shook her head. Meanwhile, Raisa Mikolaivna was privately gloating. She was certain she had successfully protected her apartment and assets from this «outsider.»
The wedding was held at a high-end restaurant with friends and family from both sides in attendance. Since the prenuptial agreement had been signed, Raisa Mikolaivna felt like a victor, which helped settle her nerves. Finally, the time came for the gift-giving ceremony. Roman’s parents congratulated the newlyweds, gave a formal speech, and presented them with an envelope of cash, wishing for them to «spend it wisely and with joy.»
Then it was the turn of Katya’s parents. They walked up empty-handed. Raisa Mikolaivna rolled her eyes, her entire expression broadcasting a clear message to the room: Well, what did you expect from people like them? Her in-laws offered their congratulations, expressing their hopes for future grandchildren and a peaceful retirement. Raisa smirked. But then, Katya’s father, Andrei Borisovich, pulled a small box from his pocket and continued:
«And so that your married life isn’t overshadowed by the stress of renting, Mom and I have decided to give you the keys to an apartment in Kyiv. And if you ever tire of city life, we’ll always be happy to have you back home—especially since Katya will eventually need to take over the reins of our dairy plant.»
A collective gasp of awe rippled through the hall. Raisa Mikolaivna sat there in a total stupor. It turned out that Katya’s family was significantly wealthier than her own. Her snobbery and sense of superiority crumbled instantly.
She realized too late that she had refused to listen to anyone or make any effort to truly know Katya and her family. She had been blinded by her own prejudices, and now she was the one left looking small.
