— Vladlen, have you cleared out the wardrobe yet? I want to hang my coats there. Vera’s boxes can go into the storage room. And those old sweaters of hers should have been thrown away ages ago, but for some reason she keeps holding on to them, — Nina Arkadyevna said loudly into the phone.
Vera stopped on the landing and did not put the key into the lock right away.
She was not supposed to return from her business trip until the following evening, but the work meeting had been rescheduled, she had managed to change her tickets, and Vera had decided not to tell anyone. She wanted to surprise her husband by coming home early, ordering dinner from their favorite café, and spending a quiet Sunday at home.
There was certainly a surprise waiting for her.
Just not the kind she had imagined.
From behind the door, her mother-in-law’s voice sounded again.
— No, the small wardrobe won’t work for me. Half the shelves are too narrow. Where am I supposed to put my things? The big one is fine. Vladlen said we’d sort it out. Vera doesn’t even wear half of her clothes anyway.
Vera slowly turned the key.
The first thing she saw when she opened the door was two enormous suitcases standing in the middle of the hallway. They were positioned so awkwardly that she had to squeeze past them sideways. Boxes were stacked beside the shoe cabinet, several potted plants stood on the floor, and an unfamiliar beige jacket hung from one of the hooks.
Vladlen came out of the kitchen holding a glass of water.
He looked completely calm.
— Why are you back today? I thought you were coming tomorrow.
Vera set her travel bag down by the door.
— I can see that.
Nina Arkadyevna appeared behind him. She had already put away her phone and was now looking at her daughter-in-law with mild irritation, as though Vera’s early return had disrupted a carefully arranged plan.
— Well, that’s unexpected. You could have warned us.
Vera looked at the suitcases.
— Apparently I’m not the only one who decided warnings were unnecessary.
Vladlen pretended not to understand the implication.
— Mom’s sale went through. She finally moved out of her apartment yesterday. She’ll stay here for now.
— How long does “for now” mean?
— We’ll see.
Vera looked straight at her husband.
— We agreed on one week.
— Circumstances changed.
— When?
— While you were away.
— And how exactly did my business trip change the amount of time your mother is supposed to stay in my apartment?
Nina Arkadyevna let out an annoyed breath.
— Vera, don’t start immediately. I’ve only just arrived.
— And I’ve only just walked into my own apartment and already heard you discussing which of my belongings you intend to throw away.
Her mother-in-law looked briefly unsettled, but only for a second.
— I was talking about clothes you haven’t worn in years. What’s the big deal? The wardrobe isn’t made of rubber.
— There is enough room in my wardrobe for my things.
Vladlen placed his glass on the hallway table.
— Can we not start fighting the moment you walk through the door?
Vera took off her shoes, went farther into the apartment, and stopped near the living room.
Things had changed there too.
Another box stood beside the sofa, with the top of a floor lamp sticking out of it. Three of Nina Arkadyevna’s plants had appeared on the windowsill, and a small porcelain figurine now stood beside the television.
This was supposedly someone staying “for a week,” yet she had brought nearly everything she could carry.
Only a few days earlier, the situation had sounded completely different.
Nina Arkadyevna had sold the one-bedroom apartment where she had lived for more than twenty years. It had been entirely her decision. Vladlen had even tried to talk her out of it because she had not yet chosen another place to live.
But Nina Arkadyevna had been confident that she was making a smart financial move.
— I’ll sell now, put the money into a deposit account, and then see what happens. Prices are crazy. Why should I rush into buying the first thing I find? Maybe in a few months something better will come along.
Vera had asked the obvious question.
— And where will you live while you’re looking?
— I’ll rent something. I don’t need much.
A couple of weeks later, it turned out there would be several days between her moving out of the old apartment and finding a rental. Nina Arkadyevna asked if she could stay with her son.
Vera had not objected.
— One week won’t make any difference.
She had even cleared one shelf in the wardrobe in the smaller bedroom, prepared fresh bed linen, and left her mother-in-law a spare key because Vera herself was about to leave on a work trip.
Now, standing among all those boxes, Vera understood how badly she had misjudged the situation.
She said nothing more and went to the bedroom.
That was where it became completely obvious that Nina Arkadyevna had never intended to stay for only a week.
The right half of the large wardrobe stood open.
Vera’s clothes, which had previously hung there, were gone.
Two cardboard boxes had been placed on the bed. The sleeve of one of her coats was sticking out of the first.
Vera opened it.
Inside were her dresses, cardigans, business suits, and several handbags, all folded carelessly and in a hurry. The second box contained shoes and winter clothes.
Nina Arkadyevna came in behind her.
— I cleared out some space here.
Vera straightened.
— You touched my things?
— Don’t be dramatic. I didn’t damage anything.
— Who gave you permission to empty my wardrobe?
Her mother-in-law pointed toward the hallway.
— Vladlen.
Vera turned.
Her husband was standing in the doorway.
— Is that true?
He rubbed the back of his neck.
— Mom’s clothes didn’t fit into the small wardrobe. I said we could temporarily put some of your things away.
— Why “temporarily” if your mother is already discussing where to put a new wardrobe?
— Vera, stop picking apart every word.
She stared at him for several seconds.
Then she took her coat out of the box and hung it back up.
After that came a dress.
Then another.
Nina Arkadyevna frowned.
— And where am I supposed to put my things?
— Wherever you were planning to put them in the apartment you intended to rent.
— I’m not moving anywhere right now.
Vera froze with a hanger in her hand.
— What do you mean, you’re not moving?
Vladlen finally decided to say it directly.
— Mom’s going to stay here for a while.
— Until what date?
— We haven’t decided.
— Then we’ll decide now.
— Vera!
— What?
Her husband stepped closer.
— Mom sold her apartment. The money is earning interest. Renting another place when there’s an empty room here makes no sense.
— The empty room is in my apartment.
— Oh God, here we go again with “my apartment.”
Vera put down the hanger and turned to face him fully.
— Whose is it, then?
Vladlen said nothing.
He knew the answer perfectly well.
Vera had bought the apartment long before she had ever met him.
She worked as an engineer for a company servicing industrial equipment. For several years she had saved money, then sold the share of a country house she had inherited from her grandmother, added her savings, and bought a three-bedroom apartment in an old brick building.
Vladlen had not existed in her life at the time.
They met much later at a mutual friend’s birthday party. They dated for about nine months before he moved in with her. Before that, he had rented a small studio apartment.
They had not rushed into marriage.
Both of them wanted to see whether they could actually live together first.
After several months, when it became clear that they had no serious domestic conflicts, they registered their marriage.
From the very beginning, Vladlen knew exactly who owned the apartment.
He had never contributed to buying it, had taken no part in the purchase paperwork, and had no legal reason to consider the property his.
At first, he did not.
He used to say:
— Let’s go to your place.
Or:
— I left the documents at your apartment.
Gradually, the language changed.
— Our bedroom.
— Our kitchen.
— Our apartment.
Vera had never objected. For married people, it sounded completely natural. They lived there together, bought household items together, invited guests together, and shared responsibilities.
The problem was that over time Vladlen stopped distinguishing between the ordinary marital meaning of “ours” and the legal right to make decisions about someone else’s property.
His mother forgot that distinction even faster.
For years, Nina Arkadyevna had made comments like:
— You have three rooms and only two people living here.
Sometimes she asked why Vera needed a separate office.
— You could put the computer in the bedroom.
Or she would remark:
— Once you have a child, you’ll understand how much unnecessary space you’re wasting now.
Vera had always ignored it. Her mother-in-law lived separately, came over as a guest, and could express whatever opinions she wanted.
Selling her own apartment changed everything.
Nina Arkadyevna suddenly began looking at her son’s home not as somewhere she could be invited, but as a ready-made backup plan.
And Vladlen, apparently, had decided he had every right to offer it.
— Why did you make this decision without me? — Vera asked.
Her husband sighed tiredly.
— Because I knew you’d start counting rooms and reminding everyone whose name is on the documents.
— So you knew I would be against it.
— I knew you might resist at first. Then you’d get used to it.
Nina Arkadyevna immediately supported her son.
— You’re at work half the month anyway. And you’re always going on business trips. How exactly would I bother you? I could even help. Cook. Clean.
Vera turned toward her.
— I don’t need help in exchange for accommodation.
— What exchange? I’m your husband’s mother.
— And you have money from selling your apartment.
— That money should be working.
— Fine. Let it work. Where are you planning to live?
— Here.
The answer came so calmly that Vera almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because she could hardly believe how quickly her mother-in-law had appointed herself a permanent resident of an apartment that did not belong to her.
Vera did not continue the argument that evening.
She put all her belongings back into the wardrobe and removed some of Nina Arkadyevna’s boxes from the small bedroom.
— You can keep what you need here for one week.
Her mother-in-law raised her eyebrows.
— One week again?
— That is exactly what we agreed to.
Vladlen stood nearby but said nothing.
Vera had no desire to spend hours arguing after a tiring journey. She was more interested in seeing exactly how far her husband and his mother intended to go in reorganizing her life.
She got her answer very quickly.
By the next day, Nina Arkadyevna had occupied almost half of the kitchen cupboards.
That morning Vera opened one of the upper cabinets and, instead of her usual jars, found bags of grains, boxes of cookies, cans of food, and assorted packets.
Her own groceries had been pushed to one side.
— Why did you put all of this here?
— Where else am I supposed to put it?
— You have your own shelf.
— One shelf for an adult person is ridiculous.
— You’re staying temporarily.
Nina Arkadyevna did not answer.
She simply continued arranging her groceries.
Vera calmly removed the packets and moved them back to the cupboard that had been assigned to her.
Her mother-in-law watched with obvious irritation.
— Are you deliberately trying to show me I’m not welcome here?
— I’m showing you where you can keep your belongings.
— Like some kind of hostel.
— In your rental apartment, you’ll be able to organize the kitchen however you like.
That evening, a woman named Tamara Stepanovna, Nina Arkadyevna’s former neighbor, came to visit.
Vera opened the door and found an unfamiliar woman carrying a bag of fruit.
— Hello. Is Nina home?
Nina Arkadyevna came out of the bedroom.
— Tamara! Come in!
She led her acquaintance into the kitchen and immediately began giving her a tour of the apartment.
— This is our kitchen. My room is farther down. We still need to decide where to put a proper wardrobe.
Vera was sitting in her office and could hear everything through the open door.
She especially appreciated the phrase “our kitchen.”
A few minutes later, Tamara Stepanovna looked into the office.
— Is this a study?
— Vera works here, — Nina Arkadyevna explained. — Maybe later we’ll turn it into something else.
Vera raised her eyes from the laptop.
— Turn it into what?
Her mother-in-law waved a hand.
— Nothing. We’re just talking.
— Then please leave my room out of your conversation.
The guest immediately sensed the tension and did not wander around the apartment again.
After she left, Vladlen started with the same familiar argument.
— You could have been a little nicer.
— I was supposed to let your mother discuss remodeling my apartment with a stranger?
— She only mentioned it.
— First she only mentioned the wardrobe. Then my things ended up in boxes.
— Mom has just moved. It’s stressful for her.
— She chose to sell her apartment.
— Still.
— Vladlen, do you even notice what’s happening?
— I do. You’re picking at someone who hasn’t even had time to settle in.
Vera laughed.
— Settle in? She’s been here two days and she’s already inviting guests.
— One friend came over. So what?
— Nothing. I’m simply watching.
— Then watch quietly.
Vera remembered those words.
Over the next few days, everything confirmed that none of this was accidental.
Nina Arkadyevna repeatedly entered Vera’s office without knocking.
The first time, she needed scissors.
The second, a charger.
The third time, she simply wanted to ask what Vera was planning to cook for dinner.
After that, Vera closed the door.
Her mother-in-law knocked almost immediately.
— Why are you closing yourself in?
— I’m working.
— I’m not bothering you.
— You’ve come in three times in half an hour.
— Do I need permission now just to walk around the apartment?
Vera opened the door.
— To enter this room, yes.
Nina Arkadyevna flushed with anger.
— Vladlen! Do you hear this?
Her husband came out of the bedroom.
— What is it now?
— Your wife is forbidding me from walking around the apartment.
— Not around the apartment, — Vera corrected. — Inside my office.
— Can’t you give someone time to adjust? — Vladlen snapped. — Mom has only just moved in.
— She hasn’t moved in. She’s visiting.
Nina Arkadyevna looked at her son.
He remained silent.
Vera noticed.
Apparently, the word “visiting” no longer suited him either.
On Friday evening, Vera deliberately raised the subject again.
— Nina Arkadyevna, have you found any rental options yet?
Her mother-in-law was sitting in the kitchen scrolling through her phone.
— No.
— Why not?
— I haven’t looked.
— We agreed you would stay here while you looked for another apartment.
— I’ve decided not to rush.
— And the deadline?
— What deadline?
— When are you planning to move out?
Vladlen walked into the kitchen at exactly that moment.
— Vera, stop trying to throw her out every day.
— I’m only asking for a date.
— Let Mom live peacefully for a while.
— Where?
— Here.
— For how long?
He turned toward the refrigerator.
— We’ll decide later.
Vera stepped closer to him.
— No. That’s not going to work. “We’ll decide later” means the two of you have already decided everything and just don’t want to say it openly.
— Nobody has decided anything.
Nina Arkadyevna lifted her head.
— Actually, I’m planning to stay at least until next summer.
For several seconds, the only sound in the kitchen was the hum of the refrigerator.
Vera turned toward her.
— Say that again.
— Until next summer. Then I’ll see. Maybe the market will change. The money is earning interest right now. Why should I give part of it to some stranger every month just to rent an apartment?
Vera slowly sat down opposite her.
— And when exactly did you decide to stay until next summer?
— Recently.
— Before I came home?
— What difference does it make?
— A very big difference.
— Vladlen agrees.
Vera looked at her husband.
— Is that true?
He remained silent for several seconds, then sat down beside his mother.
That movement alone told Vera almost everything she needed to know.
— Yes, — he said. — I don’t see a problem.
— You agreed to let your mother live here for almost a year without even asking me?
— Maybe longer. What’s the issue?
Vera studied his face carefully.
He did not look confused or caught in the middle.
Vladlen had made his decision long ago. He had simply been waiting for his wife to stop resisting.
— Fine. Explain your logic.
— It’s simple. There’s an empty room. Mom is alone. Renting a separate apartment when there’s space here is pointless. Her money can stay where it is. In a year, she can decide what she wants to buy.
— Why should her financial advantage be funded by my apartment?
Vladlen frowned.
— There you go again. “My apartment.”
— Yes. My apartment.
— I’ve lived here for years.
— And?
— That means I have a say.
— You have a say in decisions we make together. You do not have the right to move other people in without my agreement.
Nina Arkadyevna put down her phone.
— It’s disgusting to listen to you. You make it sound like I’m some stranger off the street.
— We are talking about a person who voluntarily sold her own home, kept the money, and decided to live in my apartment for free for almost a year.
— Not for free! I buy groceries.
Vera gave a short laugh.
— Groceries are not rent.
— What kind of person charges relatives rent?
— Exactly. Which is why you should rent your own place.
Her mother-in-law stood abruptly.
— Vladlen, I’m not listening to this.
— Mom, sit down.
Then he turned toward Vera.
— You’re taking this too far.
— I am?
— Yes. Mom isn’t going anywhere.
Vera tilted her head slightly.
— Was that a decision?
— It’s common sense.
— No. I’m asking something else. Have you definitively decided that Nina Arkadyevna is staying here whether I agree or not?
Vladlen angrily slid his hand across the table.
— How many times do we need to go over the same thing? Yes. She’s staying.
— And if I don’t accept that?
— Then you’ll have to get used to the new situation.
Vera fell silent.
Nina Arkadyevna sat down again, now wearing the expression of someone who had finally heard the answer she had been waiting for from her son.
— Exactly. That’s what I’ve been saying. Give it a couple of weeks and everyone will calm down.
Vera looked only at Vladlen.
— So you’ve chosen to live with your mother.
He shrugged.
— I’m not going to throw out my own mother because of your whims.
Vera nodded slowly.
— I understand.
Apparently, Vladlen thought the argument was over.
— Good.
Vera stood and left the kitchen.
— Where are you going?
She did not answer.
She went into the bedroom, opened the lower section of the wardrobe, and took out a thick folder containing important documents.
Inside were the apartment purchase agreement, property records, old transaction papers, and other documents Vera kept together.
When she returned to the kitchen, Nina Arkadyevna was quietly saying something to her son.
Vera placed the folder on the table.
— You’ve chosen to live with your mother? Fine. Then both of you need to leave my apartment today.
At first, Nina Arkadyevna did not even understand.
Then she laughed.
— Here we go. Now the performance starts.
Vladlen frowned.
— Vera, enough.
— I’m completely serious.
— You’re throwing me out of my own home?
— No. I’m asking you to leave mine.
— I’m your husband!
— And what exactly does that change in these documents?
— You’re deliberately trying to humiliate me in front of my mother.
Vera opened the folder.
— This is the purchase agreement proving that I bought this apartment long before I ever met you. Nina Arkadyevna also knows perfectly well that she has never had any connection to this property.
Her mother-in-law stopped smiling.
— And where exactly are we supposed to go right now?
— A hotel. Tomorrow you can start looking for a rental.
— Why should I waste money on a hotel?
— Because you voluntarily sold your apartment.
— I am Vladlen’s mother!
— And I am the owner of this apartment.
Nina Arkadyevna turned toward her son.
— Tell her she can’t do this.
Vladlen looked at the documents but did not touch them.
— Vera, you’re upset.
— No.
— Let’s sleep on it. We’ll talk in the morning.
— You can talk about it tomorrow morning from the hotel.
— You are not throwing me out tonight.
— Today.
He raised his voice.
— I’m registered here!
Vera looked at him.
— No, Vladlen. Your official registration is at another address. We never registered you permanently here, and you know that perfectly well.
He fell silent.
Nina Arkadyevna snapped:
— And what does this have to do with me? Let him sort things out with you. Where am I supposed to go?
— You have money from the apartment you sold.
— I’m not taking money out of my deposit because of your attitude!
— Then use some of your available funds. How you choose to pay for accommodation is your decision.
— Shameless woman.
Vera closed the folder.
— You have two hours to pack.
Her mother-in-law jumped up so quickly that the chair scraped backward.
— I’m not going anywhere.
— Then this conversation will take a different direction.
— You’ll call the police?
— If necessary.
Vladlen stood up sharply.
— Have you lost your mind?
— I came home from a business trip and discovered that the two of you had moved another person into my apartment without my consent. Then you both informed me that this person would remain here at least until next summer and that I would simply have to “get used to it.” What exactly is left to discuss?
— This is a family matter.
— It would have been a family matter if you had asked me before making the decision.
Nina Arkadyevna grabbed her phone.
— I’m calling my sister. Let her hear what’s happening here.
— Call whoever you want. Just pack your suitcases while you’re doing it.
Her mother-in-law disappeared into the bedroom.
A minute later, her voice could be heard loudly from inside.
— Can you believe it, Sveta? We’re being thrown out! At night! Her own husband!
Vera checked the time.
It was barely after six in the evening.
Vladlen remained in the kitchen.
— You’re going to regret this.
— Maybe. But tonight you’re leaving.
— Over what? Mom wanting wardrobe space?
— No. Because you decided you could control my property against my wishes.
— I have a right to live here.
— You live here because we are married and because I allowed you to make this your home. That does not give you the right to turn my apartment into free housing for your relatives.
He was silent for several seconds.
— Are you really prepared to destroy our marriage over one room?
— Are you really prepared to destroy our marriage so your mother doesn’t have to pay rent?
There was no answer.
Vera did not wait for one.
She went into the bedroom and began taking Vladlen’s clothes out of the wardrobe.
She did not throw them onto the floor or toss them into the hallway. She simply placed them neatly on the bed so he could pack them himself.
A few minutes later, he entered the room.
— Don’t touch my things.
— Fine. Pack them yourself.
— I said I’m not leaving.
Vera picked up her phone.
— Then I’ll call the police and explain that the property owner is asking people to leave the apartment and they are refusing.
— People? I’m a stranger now?
— Nina Arkadyevna is certainly not a resident or owner here. As for you, we can sort that out separately. But you will not continue living here together with your mother.
Vladlen stood beside the wardrobe, staring at his wife as though he were seeing her for the first time.
Vera was looking at him differently too.
For years, she had believed he was a calm and reasonable man.
Now she understood that Vladlen remained calm only as long as everyone around him agreed with whatever suited him.
Eventually, he was the first to take out a travel bag.
— Fine. I’ll leave for a couple of days.
— You can decide the length yourself.
— You’ll ask me to come back.
— Maybe. But only you. And only after we have a separate conversation.
He angrily zipped the bag shut.
In the next room, Nina Arkadyevna continued packing while commenting loudly on every item.
— I’m not taking the plants. They can stay here.
Vera walked in.
— Take them.
— To a hotel?
— Yes.
— They’ll die there.
— Then find someone to keep them.
— Do you have any idea how many things I have?
— I saw the hallway.
— That’s exactly why I wanted a proper wardrobe.
— You can put whatever wardrobe you want in your rental apartment.
Nina Arkadyevna tightened her grip on the suitcase handle.
— Don’t worry. Vladlen will soon understand what kind of woman he married.
— That’s his concern now.
— You think owning the apartment makes you more important than everyone else?
— No. Owning the apartment makes me its owner.
Her mother-in-law flushed and turned away.
An hour and a half later, the suitcases were back in the hallway.
This time, Vladlen’s bags were standing beside them.
He booked the hotel himself. Nina Arkadyevna argued until the last moment that they could stay with relatives instead, but none of the people she had called seemed particularly eager to host two suitcases, several boxes, and a collection of houseplants.
Once everything was packed, Vladlen put on his shoes.
— Should I leave the key?
Vera held out her hand.
— Yes.
He placed it in her palm.
Nina Arkadyevna took hers out next.
— Take it. After this, I’m never coming back here anyway.
Vera accepted that key too.
— Good night.
Her mother-in-law seemed to be waiting for some final remark, an apology, an explanation, or perhaps an attempt to stop her son from leaving.
None came.
They walked out.
Vera closed the door.
Only then did she walk through the apartment.
Several packages of Nina Arkadyevna’s food were still in the kitchen. Empty boxes remained in the room. One forgotten flowerpot stood on the windowsill.
Vera texted Vladlen:
“Some groceries and one plant were left behind. Pick them up tomorrow.”
His response came a minute later.
“Couldn’t you have at least let us stay until morning?”
Vera did not answer.
The next morning, she replaced the lock cylinder herself.
It took only a few minutes to remove the old one, install the new one, and test the key several times.
Her reasoning was simple.
They had returned their keys, but Vera had no intention of wondering whether copies had been made.
Afterward, she packed the rest of her mother-in-law’s belongings into one box.
Vladlen arrived around noon.
Alone.
— Mom’s at the hotel.
— All right.
— She didn’t sleep all night.
— Neither did I.
He noticed the new keys on the hallway table.
— You changed the lock?
— The cylinder.
— That was fast.
— It wasn’t difficult.
Vladlen walked toward the kitchen, but Vera remained in the hallway.
— Are you staying long?
— I wanted to talk.
— About our marriage?
— Yes.
— Then talk. But your mother living here is no longer up for discussion.
He frowned.
— You don’t even want to try finding a compromise.
— What compromise?
— Mom could stay for a few months, for example.
— No.
— Why are you being so absolute?
— Because she already showed me what “staying for a while” means to her. My belongings ended up in boxes, she began discussing changes to my apartment with her friends, and the agreed stay quietly expanded until next summer without my consent.
— I can talk to her.
— You should have talked to her before she moved in.
Vladlen sat down.
— I wanted to help my mother.
— At my expense.
— We’re married.
— Exactly. Which is why you should have asked your wife before moving another person into her home.
He did not answer.
After a while Vera asked:
— Where are you planning to live?
— Mom is looking at two-bedroom apartments.
— Already?
— Yes.
— So apparently there are options after all.
Vladlen gave an irritated smile.
— She’s only renting because of you.
— No. She’s renting because she sold her apartment and still needs somewhere to live.
A few days later, Vladlen texted that they had found a small two-bedroom apartment not far from the hotel. The lease was signed in Nina Arkadyevna’s name.
She paid for it with her own money.
And, surprisingly, no disaster occurred.
Nobody had to sleep at the train station.
Nobody had to beg friends for a place to stay.
Nobody had to spend the entire amount from the apartment sale.
Nina Arkadyevna merely had to do exactly what she had originally planned to do:
rent a home.
Vladlen stayed with his mother.
A week later, he came to Vera again.
She let him inside, but she did not give him a key.
— Is this how it’s going to be now? You’ll keep letting me in like a guest?
— For now, yes.
— Are we still married or not?
— That’s what we need to decide.
He went into the living room.
— Mom says that after what happened, I shouldn’t come back.
Vera gave a faint smile.
— Then why are you here?
— Because it’s our marriage, not hers.
— Finally.
Vladlen looked annoyed.
— Don’t start.
— I’m not starting anything. I’m just wondering why you didn’t remember that when you moved her into our home.
He sat down.
— I was wrong.
Vera did not respond immediately.
She was not going to grab onto the first admission and pretend everything was suddenly fixed.
— Wrong about what?
— About making the decision without you.
— Only that?
— And about saying you’d get used to it.
— Go on.
— Vera, is this an interrogation?
— No. I need to understand whether you actually understood what happened, or whether you just want to come back to a comfortable apartment.
This time, Vladlen did not get offended.
He stared toward the window for several seconds.
— I got used to living here and started thinking I had the right to make every decision as your equal.
— You do have the right to make decisions together with me.
— Yes. But I decided instead of you.
— Exactly.
— I thought that because she was my mother, you were supposed to accept it.
— How would you feel if I moved one of my relatives in here for a year?
Vladlen paused.
— I wouldn’t like it.
— And what if I told you that you just had to get used to it?
He nodded.
— I understand.
— Good.
Vera did not invite him to move back.
Their conversation about the marriage continued for a long time, but Vera kept the question of the apartment separate from everything else.
Vladlen could still be her husband.
He could try to rebuild her trust.
He could visit, talk, admit his mistakes, or disagree with her.
But he no longer had the automatic right to unlock her door with his own key.
Meanwhile, Nina Arkadyevna began settling into her rented two-bedroom apartment.
At first, she refused to speak to Vera at all.
Then she sent complaints through her son.
Eventually, even that stopped.
A month later, Vladlen casually mentioned:
— Mom bought a wardrobe.
Vera looked at him.
— A big one?
For the first time in a long while, he smiled.
— Huge.
— Then I suppose all her things finally fit.
— Looks like it.
And that was the end of the subject.
Vladlen had genuinely expected his wife to grow accustomed to having a new mistress of the house in her own apartment.
He had imagined that the boxes would gradually become part of the furniture, then a new wardrobe would appear, then Nina Arkadyevna would start comfortably inviting friends over, and by winter nobody would even remember that the original arrangement had been for a single week.
Instead, things went very differently.
Vera did not get used to it.
She did not spend months defending her right to decide what happened inside her own home.
She did not move out just to prove how hurt she was.
If Vladlen had chosen to live with his mother, Vera simply helped him make that choice a reality.
Mother and son really did end up living under the same roof.
It just happened to be a rented roof.
And the square meters were no longer Vera’s.