The sharp ring of the doorbell suddenly cut through the evening silence just as I was pouring hot water into the teapot after a long and exhausting workday.
Beyond the windows, thick November fog swirled between the buildings, while the yellowish streetlights appeared as blurred patches through the damp glass.
For a moment I thought it might be one of the neighbors at the door, perhaps another package delivered to the wrong address, but when the bell rang a second time — longer and more impatiently — a strange uneasiness ran through me.
Slowly, I walked to the hallway, opened the door, and immediately froze at the sight before me.
On the doorstep stood Galina Semyonovna, her cheeks flushed, wrapped in a thick knitted scarf, with two enormous checkered shopping bags and a worn leather suitcase beside her, as if she had packed up an entire life only a few hours earlier.
In one hand she clutched a bouquet of yellow chrysanthemums whose petals had already been battered by the cold wind and the long day of travel.
Behind her stood Andrei as well, wearing a slightly awkward smile, another duffel bag hanging from his shoulder, as though they had arrived for a completely ordinary family visit.
My mother-in-law smiled broadly and stepped forward with such natural confidence, as if she had always had the right to enter my home.
“Tanyushka, darling, we’ve finally arrived. From now on I’m staying here with you forever!”
Her words reached my mind slowly, as if someone were speaking to me through thick glass. For several seconds I simply stared at her in confusion, trying to process the meaning of what she had said.
“Galina Semyonovna… good evening… what exactly happened?”
Before Andrei could say anything, my mother-in-law had already pushed her way into the hallway, sighing loudly as though she were terribly exhausted.
“Oh, Tanya, don’t look at me like that, everything is perfectly fine. I sold my apartment and gave the money to Lenochka so she could finally pay off that cursed mortgage.
She’s raising two children, and her husband barely earns anything. She needs it more than I do. And I decided to move in with you. Surely you wouldn’t leave Andrei’s mother alone in her old age.”
Slowly I turned my gaze toward Andrei, and in that instant something cold and sharp moved inside me. My husband shrugged awkwardly, as if the entire situation were completely logical.
“Tanya, Mom was left alone. We have two rooms, we’ll fit together just fine.”
The words “we have two rooms” echoed especially loudly in my ears because I knew perfectly well that every single square meter of that apartment had been paid for by me years before Andrei had even appeared in my life.
I had worked for it. I had given up vacations, new clothes, and a more comfortable life while saving every spare coin month after month.
And now suddenly it had become shared property in the minds of people who had not contributed a single kopeck toward it.
Still, I smiled, because by then I already knew that I could not afford to lose my composure.
“Of course, Galina Semyonovna, please come in. Andrei, help your mother with the bags. I’ll put the kettle on and make a phone call.”
My mother-in-law nodded with satisfaction and noisily shuffled toward the living room.
“I knew you were a decent girl, Tanyushka. I even told Lenochka that maybe sometimes you’re cold as ice, but surely you wouldn’t throw your mother-in-law out into the street.”
The sentence left her mouth so lightly, as if she were complimenting me, though every word dripped with condescension and self-satisfaction.
I went into the kitchen, closed the door behind me, and stood motionless by the counter for several seconds. The quiet hum of the kettle filled the room while I pulled out my phone and called my mother.
“Hi, Mom. Do you remember that folder with the apartment documents?”
My mother’s voice immediately turned serious.
“Of course I remember. What happened?”
“I need it. Right now.”
A few seconds of silence followed on the other end of the line.
“I’ll be there in forty minutes.”
“Thank you.”
“Tanya… don’t let them take advantage of you.”
Slowly, I closed my eyes.
“I won’t anymore.”
When I met Andrei eight years earlier, I was a completely different person. At twenty-seven, I felt that I finally had solid ground beneath my feet because I had my own apartment, a stable job, and countless plans for the future.
From my first year at university, I had worked constantly — translating articles, editing texts, typing through the nights on an old laptop while others partied or went on vacations.
After my grandmother died, I inherited a tiny room in a communal apartment, which I managed to sell at a good price, and that money became the first serious foundation for my own home.
When Andrei appeared in my life, he seemed kind and attentive. I loved that he was calm, rarely raised his voice, and at first seemed to respect my independence.
Before the wedding, however, my mother sat me down in the kitchen and looked at me so seriously that I immediately understood she wanted to say something important.
“Tanya, listen to me very carefully. This apartment is your premarital property, which means it belongs only to you no matter what happens later. Never transfer it into anyone else’s name, and I will keep the original documents.”
At the time I laughed because it all seemed overly cautious.
“Mom, you sound like a secret agent from an old movie.”
But she did not smile.
“I’m not a secret agent. I’ve simply seen enough life to know how quickly people change when money or property is involved.”
Over the following years, I gradually began to understand what she meant.
Every time we met, Galina Semyonovna repeated the same things.
She constantly talked about Lenochka, who in her opinion was eternally unfortunate and always in need of help. Lena had already gone through three marriages, was raising two children, and blamed the entire world for all her problems except herself.
“You have it easy,” my mother-in-law would always say. “You don’t have children, you live peacefully, while Lenochka has so many worries.”
Every time I heard those words, my stomach tightened, because behind them lay the memory of four failed IVF attempts,
countless medical examinations, and one lost pregnancy that no one in the family ever spoke about openly.
But Galina Semyonovna never cared about what I had gone through. For her, only Lena existed and only Lena’s problems mattered.
At first the requests for money began with small things. School supplies, medicine, a broken washing machine, winter coats for the children.
Every single time, Andrei helped from our shared savings, and I tried to be understanding because I believed that was what family meant.
Now I know that a lack of boundaries slowly destroys a person.
When Galina Semyonovna first mentioned selling her apartment, I immediately had a bad feeling.
“You know, Tanyushka, it’s difficult living alone now. I was thinking about moving in with Lena’s family and helping with the children.”
“That is your decision,” I answered cautiously.
“Do you think it’s a good idea?”
At that time I still tried to remain diplomatic.
“I think you should think it through very carefully.”
She didn’t think it through.
In September she sold her apartment for six million eight hundred thousand rubles, then gave almost the entire amount to Lena to pay off the mortgage. She barely kept anything for herself, as though she had no need for a future or any security.
Two weeks later Lena informed her that their apartment was too small and that it would be better if she lived with Andrei and me instead.
That was how she arrived at our place that evening with her suitcases and chrysanthemums.
My mother rang the bell exactly forty minutes later. She stepped inside, took off her coat, and looked over the bags lined up in the hallway. She did not ask a single question because she already understood everything.
Silently she placed the folder on the table.
“Have you decided what you want?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Completely sure.”
My mother nodded slowly.
“Then don’t back down halfway through.”
After she went into the bathroom, I returned to the kitchen where Andrei and his mother were peacefully drinking tea as if they were already at home.
“Andrei, we need to talk.”
In the living room, I closed the door behind us and sat down across from him.
“Listen to me very carefully because I’m only going to say this once. Your mother sold her apartment, gave all her money to Lena, and now she wants to move in here forever. Do you agree with this?”
Andrei let out a tense sigh.
“What am I supposed to do? She’s my mother.”
“Tell her she needs to ask Lena for at least part of the money back and arrange her own housing.”
“Lena won’t give it back.”
“Then Lena should solve your mother’s living situation, since she’s the one who got the money.”
Andrei stared at me in disbelief.
“You would really throw my mother out into the street?”
Slowly I pulled the property deed from the folder and placed it on the table in front of him.
“This apartment is in my name. I bought it two years before we got married. Legally, you have nothing to do with it.”
My husband turned pale as he read through the document.
“Are you threatening me with this?”
“No. I’m finally clarifying reality.”
A long silence followed during which I could clearly hear the soft ticking of the wall clock and the clinking of my mother-in-law’s teacup in the kitchen.
Then finally Andrei spoke.
“But where is Mom supposed to go?”
At that moment everything became perfectly clear to me. He did not choose me. He did not choose our life together. He did not choose what was right.
He chose the familiar comfort of letting someone else solve his problems for him.
I opened the door.
“Galina Semyonovna, please come in for a moment.”
My mother-in-law entered smiling, but the smile slowly disappeared from her face when she saw the documents in front of us.
“What happened?”
“This apartment belongs exclusively to me. Andrei is not an owner here, and since you both decided to take my life and my home for granted, I am asking you to leave.”
At first my mother-in-law did not even comprehend my words.
“But we’re family…”
“No. You are family. I was only a convenient solution.”
Two hours later they were loading the suitcases into a taxi. My mother silently helped carry the bags into the stairwell while Andrei never once looked me in the eye.
When the door finally closed behind them, a silence settled over the apartment deeper than any I had felt in years.
I sat down in the kitchen and stared at the steaming tea for long minutes.
“How do you feel?” my mother asked quietly.
I searched for the right words for a long time.
“Strangely relieved.”
My mother smiled sadly.
“That’s because you carried all of this alone for far too long.”
The divorce was long and unpleasant. Andrei demanded money for renovations, made threats, and wrote bitter letters, but in the end the court awarded him only the amount he could actually prove with receipts.
Now all of them live together at Lena’s cramped apartment. Sometimes mutual acquaintances tell me there are constant arguments, Galina Semyonovna cries often, and Andrei barely comes home anymore.
As for me, I remained in my own home, which finally became truly mine again.
Not long after the divorce, I adopted a red kitten who behaved from the very first day as if he had always lived there with me.
I named him Styopan, and in the evenings he often sleeps in my lap while I quietly read or drink tea by the window.
Sometimes my mother calls me and asks how I’m doing.
And every single time I give her the same answer.
“I’m fine, Mom.”
And now, for the first time in many years, I am truly telling the truth.
