For quite some time, Elena wrestled with the challenge of selecting an ideal present for her husband. Every suggestion she considered fell short of satisfactory. Driven by desperation, she decided to directly ask Artem what he desired. His reply, however, was sharp and unforeseen.

“A premium gym membership,” he declared abruptly.

Elena’s surprise was evident, her brows knitting as she responded, “But you detest exercising?”

“It’s not for me. You should get one—you’ve really neglected yourself. It’s shameful in front of my friends—they witness how my salary is spent,” he retorted curtly.

A flush rose on Elena’s cheeks as tears formed in her eyes. Her mother’s long-standing advice echoed in her mind: “Listen to your husband, Lenochka; he’s the head of the family.” If Artem voiced such criticism, perhaps it was time to confront a harsh truth.

Silently, she tidied the dining table and scrubbed the kitchen until it gleamed. Heading toward the bathroom, she stood before the large wall mirror, scrutinizing her reflection: softened cheeks, rounded hips, a fuller midsection.

“He might be right. I should lose weight. But not now—after the holiday. I can’t present an empty table to guests; I have too many dishes planned. The diet will have to wait,” she resolved, returning to the bedroom. She switched off the light and lay down, yearning for warmth or affection. Artem replied only with a muttered word to her quiet “Goodnight” before turning away.

“He’s exhausted. It’s okay,” she reassured herself once again, biting her lip.

The following day, Elena came home burdened with heavy grocery bags and immediately began preparing the feast. Soon, the air was filled with enticing scents of spices and baked treats. An exceptional baker, Elena’s cakes and pastries were popular at a nearby café, and acquaintances occasionally commissioned bulk orders for special occasions. Yet Artem long ceased to appreciate her culinary skills, taking them for granted. He enjoyed boasting to his friends as if the lavish meals were his own means of maintaining the “abundant household.”

Prior to the celebration, Artem had presented a lengthy list of dishes, his tone commanding, “I want everything—rich, flavorful, don’t disappoint me!”

Exhaustion weighed on Elena; her back ached, arms trembled. Nevertheless, when guests arrived, the table dazzled with a spread including aspic, stuffed fish, various salads, and heaps of pastries.

The gathering appeared successful. Seated guests glanced around for the host.

“Where’s Artem? Late again?” inquired Roman, a longtime family friend, with mild irony.

“He mentioned working late,” Elena smiled, attempting to mask his absence.

Eventually, Artem burst in, slamming the door.

“Got held up at work. Ran into Natasha at the bus stop and gave her a ride,” he said nonchalantly, ushering Natasha inside.

Natasha, an old acquaintance of Elena’s, raised no suspicions despite her informal attire and heavy makeup, which drew a few puzzled looks.

With a boastful grin, Natasha seated herself beside Artem, pushing her chair back. Elena was relegated to a cramped stool at the table’s edge.

“You’ll be serving us anyway,” Artem dismissed her approach. “Besides, why sit down? You’re supposed to be on a diet! Dish out some salad. Natasha, want aspic? Or are you counting calories?” he added mockingly.

“My figure’s flawless,” Natasha laughed smugly. “But I won’t refuse your aspic, Artem! I know Elena put in effort.”

Ignoring the sarcasm, Elena brought out the aspic. “Please pass the plates.”

The aspic was firm, rich in meat, with a crystal-clear broth. Guests eagerly began eating, but Artem frowned.

“Too much meat. Have you forgotten how to cook?” he criticized, pushing the plate aside.

“Isn’t having an abundance of meat a good thing?” Roman asked, surprised. “It has excellent texture.”

“No, it isn’t! I prefer more jelly. This isn’t some pig’s slop—it should have elegance,” Artem snapped. “It’s about presentation.”

“You’re nitpicking, Artem,” Anya, Elena’s sister, responded firmly but kindly.

“Fine. Elena cooks like she’s selling the dishes. Take this egg pie,” Artem said as he theatrically broke it in half. “See?”

“What’s wrong?” asked a guest.

“Too much dough, barely any filling. Trying to save money?” he sneered, tasting the crust before discarding the remainder.

Elena’s heart sank. She had tried so hard. Artem chose the pie with the least filling—the one she reserved for herself.

“Mine has plenty of filling,” Anya declared, holding up her pie. “Elena, ignore him. Everything tastes fantastic. You’re wonderful!”

“Yes, it’s delicious!” the guests agreed enthusiastically.

“Thanks… I really tried,” Elena whispered.

“Remember last week when I baked? Cherry pies, Artem,” Natasha interjected. “You came over for tea.”

“Those were perfect—genuine homemade,” Artem responded warmly to Natasha. “Not some store-bought stuff.”

Elena winced. She had not eaten anything herself, hiding behind excuses. She cleared the table and found the cake she prepared with a new recipe inside the fridge—light, with yogurt cream and berries, not the usual rich chocolate Napoleon Artem preferred. Regret washed over her.

“He’ll complain I skimped on the cream again,” she thought miserably.

Hands trembling, she carried the tray with cake and tea. She failed to notice the cat dashing beneath her feet. A yelp escaped her lips as she stumbled, and the cake flew.

It landed with a sad splatter on the table. Tea spilled across the pristine white tablecloth, soaking napkins and dishes.

Silence fell. Then Artem’s bitter voice cut through the stillness:

“How can you be so clumsy, Elena?! Can’t even carry a cake? Your fat legs ruined your balance?! Crawl if you can’t walk!”

He raged, indifferent to the guests, his face flushed with fury.

Elena paled. Her toe throbbed painfully, and silent sobs shook her chest. She struggled to breathe.

“We need a cloth,” Natasha said practically while standing. “It has soaked through already.”

“I’ll help,” Anya offered immediately. Guests moved to assist—some bringing cloths, others clearing dishes and aiding Elena.

Only Artem continued shouting:

“You ruined everything! The cake, the tablecloth—idiot!”

At that moment, Elena reached her breaking point. Escaping her sister’s grasp, she limped to the bathroom, slammed the door, and collapsed onto the toilet seat, overwhelmed by uncontrollable sobs. Her toe pulsed with pain, but her soul hurt far more.

“How could he? I put so much effort into this…” she whispered.

“Elena? Are you okay? Do you need help?” Roman’s calm voice came from outside the door.

“I’m fine…” she lied, attempting to steady herself.

“The guests are leaving. They’re asking for you. Will you say goodbye?”

“Yes… of course.” She tried to stand but gasped sharply.

“What’s wrong?”

“My toe… It’s extremely swollen. I can’t put weight on it.”

“Wait, I’m coming in.” Roman unlocked the door and examined her toe.

“You should go to urgent care. It may be fractured.”

“Who will take me? It’s late…” she murmured.

“I’ll call a taxi and help you get there.”

The guests departed. Only Anya remained tidying up. Seeing Elena limp, Artem exploded again:

“You just had to ruin everything! No common sense at all!”

“She might have a fracture,” Roman interjected. “She can’t even stand.”

“No surprise—after eating like that, her legs would give out,” Artem sneered.

“Enough,” Roman snapped, summoning a taxi and helping Elena inside. “Artem, are you coming?”

“Why should I? You two seem fine without me.”

Roman clenched his jaw but stayed silent.

At the hospital, doctors diagnosed a severe bruise. They bandaged Elena’s foot and discharged her. Reluctant to return to a house where humiliation awaited, she went to her sister’s home.

The next morning Roman arrived, bearing flowers, medicine, and breakfast. His quiet compassion surprised Elena.

“Elena…” he began gently as Anya stepped aside. “I’ve wanted to tell you for a while… Maybe you and Artem should part ways. Living like this isn’t respect.”

“Where would I go? Who’d want me? I’m in my thirties… and like this…” She tugged awkwardly at her robe.

“I want you,” Roman said firmly, locking eyes with her. “I’ve loved you for a long time. And Artem has been seeing Natasha for months. Didn’t you know?”

“You must be mistaken…” she whispered, though a chilling truth crept in.

She thanked Roman and said farewell to her sister before heading home. She didn’t call Artem. She had her own key.

She soon regretted that decision.

Artem was absent—Natasha was not.

Asleep in Elena’s own bed, on her pillows.

“How could you?!” Elena whispered, pale.

“I thought you were admitted to the hospital,” Natasha yawned smugly. “But honestly… this is better. No more hiding. It’s simpler now.”

“Exactly,” Elena said, surprised by her calm tone.

There were no shouts, no tears. She simply turned and left. From the elevator, she called Roman.

“See?” he said, not triumphantly but sadly. “You didn’t believe me.”

“Is your offer still open?” she asked.

“More than ever. I’m on my way.”

True to his word, Roman stood by her. Soon, they moved in together. A swift, cold divorce followed. Artem’s sole worry was if Elena would claim his watch collection.

Eventually, Roman married her. One day, while holding her waist—never thin, never needing to be—he said warmly but decisively,

“Forget dieting. You’re beautiful. Intelligent and kind… Artem was a fool. His loss is my gain. I get all the warmth.”

Elena smiled, leaning into him. No more biting insults or shame. Her new husband loved her wholly and unconditionally. For the first time in years, she could truly breathe.

What about the apartment they once shared?

It became hers by court ruling.

At that, Artem howled like a beaten dog.

But it was far too late.

“Strength grows in moments when we choose to rise above humiliation and embrace our worth.”

Key Insight: Elena’s story highlights the vital importance of self-respect and surrounding oneself with genuine support, especially when facing toxic relationships.

This narrative reveals the transformation from neglect and abuse toward empowerment and love. Despite enduring harsh criticism and emotional turmoil, Elena’s journey culminates in liberation and the discovery of unconditional affection. It underscores that recognition and true appreciation often come from those who genuinely care, rather than those lost in their own selfishness.

Ultimately, Elena’s experience teaches that reclaiming one’s dignity sometimes requires painful but necessary change, leading to a more fulfilling and respectful life.