It all started with an invitation. When Alena and I met at that small café, everything felt like a sign. I was a welder in a factory, and she was a bright economics student, seemingly from a completely different world. We sat there, talking for hours about everything and nothing, and it felt like we belonged together, despite the obvious differences in our lives. She didn’t care about my worn-out jacket or my factory scars; she cared about me.
Our relationship grew, and I could feel the weight of her parents’ disapproval. They were well-established, with power and wealth to their names, and I was just a factory worker, struggling to make ends meet. But Alena loved me, and that was enough for me. For her, it should have been enough too, but I could see the strain it was causing her.
Fast forward three years, and we were married, despite her parents’ objections. The wedding was small and simple, just how we wanted it. We didn’t need lavish displays or expensive gifts. We had each other, and that was all that mattered. Alena was working as an economist, and I was juggling a job and engineering studies. We were building a life together, one small step at a time.
But then, one evening, everything changed.
I had just come home from work when Alena received a call from her father. She hung up, her face pale. “Vladimir Petrovich wants to meet with you,” she said softly.
“Why?” I asked, already dreading the conversation that was about to unfold.
“I don’t know… but he sounded serious.”
The next evening, I found myself sitting across from Vladimir Petrovich, my father-in-law, in the same cold, intimidating study where I had been interrogated years earlier. The room was filled with expensive furniture, the walls lined with achievements and awards from his successful career. I couldn’t help but feel out of place.
“Listen, son-in-law, no more talking,” Vladimir Petrovich said, his voice firm as he slid a thick wad of bills across the table. “Here’s a million rubles. Divorce Alena and disappear from our lives. Forever.”
I stared at the money in disbelief, unable to comprehend what was happening. This wasn’t the man I had once respected. This wasn’t the father of the woman I loved. It felt like I had been slapped across the face.
“Vladimir Petrovich… I don’t understand…” I stammered, still not processing his words.
“There’s no point in understanding,” he interrupted sharply, his eyes cold as he regarded me. “You’re not my daughter. She deserves better. Take the money, disappear—and everything will be fine.” He said it with an air of finality, as if this was the only logical solution to the problem he believed existed.
I was speechless, my mind racing. A million rubles. The offer was tempting, almost too tempting. The promise of freedom from my father-in-law’s judgment, the pressure of never being good enough for his daughter. But could I really put a price on my marriage? Could I walk away from Alena, from everything we had worked for?
I looked at the money again, the cold, lifeless bills now sitting between us like a barrier. “I’m not doing this,” I said, my voice shaking. “I love your daughter, and I will not take your money. I won’t leave her, not now, not ever.”
Vladimir Petrovich’s face darkened, and for a moment, I thought he might lash out. But then, his expression softened, almost as if he were pitying me. “You’re a fool,” he said quietly. “But it’s your choice.”
I stood up, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. “I’m not leaving her. And if you can’t accept that, then that’s your problem, not mine.”
I walked out of the room, leaving behind the million rubles, the judgment, and the impossible expectations. I went home to Alena, who was waiting for me with that worried look on her face.
“How did it go?” she asked, her voice trembling.
I took her hands in mine. “He offered me a million rubles to leave you,” I said, my voice raw. “But I told him no. I’ll never leave you, Alena. Not for anything.”
Alena’s eyes welled with tears. “I love you,” she whispered, hugging me tightly. “I don’t care about the money, or what my parents think. You’re everything to me.”
And in that moment, I realized that no amount of money, no judgment from anyone, could ever take away the love we shared. We had fought for our relationship, and we were going to keep fighting, no matter what came our way.
Vladimir Petrovich’s offer didn’t break us—it only made us stronger. Because love, real love, isn’t about wealth or status. It’s about standing by each other, no matter what the world throws at you.
And as for the million rubles? I realized I didn’t need them. I had something far more valuable: the woman I loved, and a future we were going to build together, on our own terms.