After being slapped in front of the guests by her mother-in-law for setting a “poorly arranged” table, Margarita began pulling things out of the closet—and what the guests saw left them speechless.

That day, Margarita left work early—it was her husband Nikolai’s birthday, and she wanted everything to be perfect. “Nadya, I’m heading out—Kolya’s birthday,” she told her coworker while packing up.

“Alright, Margo. Just don’t let that Gargoyle Pavlovna mess with your head again,” Nadya warned, referring to Margarita’s ruthless mother-in-law, Zinaida Pavlovna.

Margarita smiled weakly. Of course Zinaida would be there. She’d chosen the birthday cake herself—Margarita just had to cross the city to pick it up. Zinaida had “doctor’s orders,” after all. Margarita didn’t mind. It was her husband’s day, and she wanted everything to be just right.

On the way, Nikolai called her. “Hey, I invited Lena and Vadim tonight—hope that’s okay?” he asked casually.

Her heart sank. Lena was his ex-wife. Vadim—her new husband—was also Nikolai’s boss. Still, Margarita agreed. A possible promotion was on the line.

She had every reason to be uncomfortable. Nikolai, Lena, and Vadim all still worked together.

Years ago, Lena left Nikolai for Vadim. Margarita, then just his hairdresser, had consoled him. Somewhere between haircuts and heartbreak, she fell for him. And Nikolai… let her.

Whether he loved her back or just liked being loved, she never really knew.

Even after years of marriage and a son together, Margarita couldn’t ignore how Lena still looked at Nikolai—and how he sometimes looked back.

By the time she got home, cake in hand, her nerves were frayed. She barely made it inside before running into her nosy neighbor Veronika, who casually relayed how Zinaida had been badmouthing her haircuts around the building.

Inside, Margarita set the cake down and focused on preparing dinner. She wanted tonight to go smoothly. But when Zinaida showed up, dragging in her grandson by the collar, things unraveled fast.

“He sled down a hill on his backpack. It’s shredded,” she sneered. “But what can you expect? Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

Kostya scurried off to change while Zinaida rummaged through the fridge, insulting the food, the house, and finally—Margarita’s career.

“A hairdresser? You think that’s a job? You should’ve been an accountant—like Lena.”

Margarita’s hands trembled. “Is that what this is about?” she asked. “Lena?”

Zinaida didn’t hold back. “She supports her husband. You just drag yours down.”

Then the front door opened. In came Nikolai—with Lena. No Vadim in sight.

“Lena’s car broke down,” Nikolai explained. “And Vadik’s busy.”