Alena stood in front of the mirror in her hotel room, adjusting the folds of her wedding dress, and felt a familiar anxiety squeeze her throat. She was confident in her choice. Until she heard the mind of her future mother-in-law.

“Vulgar,” Valentina Grigoryevna had said when they came to show her the dress. She looked her daughter-in-law over from head to toe as if she were assessing a product at the market.

“What exactly don’t you like?” she said.– That’s it, my dear! – the woman waved her hand.

– These frills of yours… In my time, brides selected something more honorable. And here you have some kind of gypsy outfit.

For illustrative purpose only
– Sasha, do you like my dress? – Alyona asked directly.

“Yes, it’s normal…” he squeezed out. “The important thing is that you feel comfortable.”

“Alexander,” the mother said sternly,“you can’t indulge every whim. Continues…