“Give the second set of keys to my mom—just don’t forget to label the keychain, she always gets the bunches mixed up.”
Marina stopped fastening her earring and looked at Pavel through the mirror.
There was less than a day left before the wedding ceremony. Her light dress hung over the chair, a box with shoes stood on the windowsill, and the groom sat calmly on the edge of the bed, scrolling through messages on his phone, as if he’d just mentioned the photographer’s arrival time.
“What keys?”
“The apartment keys. What else?”
Pavel finally looked up.
“Mom’s keyring is old. Most of the tags don’t have labels anymore. We’ll make her a separate one—with keys for the front door, the hallway, and the apartment.”
Marina was 36 years old. She worked as a cost estimator at a construction company, earned a good salary, and for the last eight years had lived in her own two-bedroom apartment near the center. She’d bought that apartment before meeting Pavel. For the first seven years, she paid off the mortgage, worked extra jobs in the evenings, turned down trips, and finally paid off the last installment last winter.
Pavel had come into her life two and a half years ago. He worked as a shift manager at a logistics center, earned a little less than Marina, and still lived with his mother. It honestly didn’t bother him.
After the wedding, they were supposed to live at Marina’s.
Or at least, that’s what she believed up until this evening.
— Pasha, why does your mom need keys to my apartment?
He actually looked surprised by the question.
— So she can come in.
— Why?
— Marina, what do you mean why? To water the plants if we’re not here. To check on the place. To accept a package. You never know.
— I water my own plants.
— But what if we go away?
— I have a neighbor for that.
Pavel grimaced.
— Here we go again.
He tossed his phone onto the bedspread.
— We’re getting married tomorrow. It won’t be just your apartment anymore, it’ll be our home. My mom is family. It’s normal for parents to have a spare set of keys.
Marina slowly took off the earring she hadn’t even fastened yet.
— My parents don’t have any keys.
— Then make them one.
— They never asked.
— That’s because your parents live outside the city. My mom is fifteen minutes away.
The logic seemed so obvious to Pavel that he picked up his phone again.
Marina watched the back of his head for a few seconds.
— Did you even discuss this with me?
— Discuss what, exactly?
— That your mom would have keys.
— Oh, come on, Marina.
He exhaled in irritation.
— We’re adults. Do we really need to make a family council decision on every little thing?
— If that little thing opens the door to my apartment — yes.
Pavel smirked.
— There it is again, ‘your’ apartment.
He stressed that last word especially.
— I thought after the wedding, this constant ‘mine’, ‘yours’ would end. We’re becoming a family.
— A family. Not co-owners of my pre-marriage apartment.
The smile disappeared from his face.
— What does co-owner have to do with it? No one’s taking your square meters from you.
— Then why does your mom need the keys?
Pavel stood up sharply.
— So I don’t have to worry! That’s why. Mom’s reliable. If a pipe bursts, if you don’t answer your phone, if something happens—she can get in.
— And what if I just don’t want her to be able to come in?
He looked at Marina as if she just said something outrageous.
— Very nice.
— What is?
— The way you treat my mother. We’re not even married yet and you’re already drawing lines.
Pavel grabbed his shirt from the chair.
— Fine. I don’t want to argue right now. Tomorrow is an important day.
He paused by the door.
— Let’s not make this about principles. After the civil ceremony, we’ll stop by home, I’ll get the spare set and take them to my mom. She already knows.
Marina turned her whole body toward him.
— What do you mean she knows?
— What do you think? I told her.
— Told her what?
— That she’d have the keys.
He shrugged.
— She was even happy about it. Said she’ll finally be able to drop by sometimes and help you out around the house.
This time, Marina didn’t say anything.
Pavel left.
The front door slammed in the hallway.
Marina sat in front of the mirror for another minute. Then she grabbed her phone and opened her chat with Natalia, the realtor.
The last message was from a week ago.
“If you decide to rent it out, I’ve got a married couple ready to come see it anytime—even tomorrow.”
Marina typed:
“Natasha, is the offer still on the table?”
The reply came almost instantly.
“It is. They haven’t found anything.”
Marina glanced at the closed bedroom door.
“Show it in the morning.”
In the morning, the apartment smelled like coffee and hair spray.
Pavel showed up around nine. He was dressed in a new suit, holding a bouquet of cream roses, and in a great mood. It was as if last night’s conversation had never happened.
— Is the bride ready?
— Almost.
Marina fastened her watch.
Pavel walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and grabbed a bottle of water.
“Mom’s getting ready. After the registration, we’ll pick her up and head to the restaurant together.”
“Alright.”
“By the way, where are the keys?”
Marina adjusted the strap of her bag.
“Which ones?”
He laughed.
“Are you trying to quiz me this morning? The spare ones.”
“Later.”
“Marina.”
“We’re running late.”
Pavel glanced at his watch and, realizing she was right, backed off.
The registration was scheduled for eleven-thirty.
They weren’t throwing a big wedding. It was Marina’s idea to skip the banquet for a hundred people and a two-year loan. After the civil ceremony, they’d booked a small restaurant for 14 guests – just the parents, a few friends, and Pavel’s mother, Galina Arkadyevna.
At the entrance to the registry office, his mother-in-law was the first to greet them.
She wore a lilac suit, pearl necklace, and carried a small patent leather purse, keeping it pressed to her side with her elbow.
“Marina, you look gorgeous!”
Galina Arkadyevna hugged the bride, then immediately stepped back to look over her dress.
“Good thing no veil. At your age, it’s unnecessary.”
“Oh mom, here we go,” Pavel grimaced.
“What did I say? The dress is beautiful.”
She straightened her son’s tie and quickly turned to Marina:
“Pasha said you’ve got the spare set ready. Please just give it to me after the registration, so I won’t forget at the restaurant.”
Marina glanced at the groom.
He looked away.
“It’s not ready.”
Galina Arkadyevna blinked.
“What do you mean it’s not ready?”
“Simple. There is no set.”
“Pasha said there is.”
“Pasha was mistaken.”
The mother-in-law pursed her lips in displeasure.
“Fine. We’ll do it later. You can get duplicates on any corner nowadays.”
The photographer called the couple to the stairs.
Pavel leaned towards Marina.
“Did you really have to do this right now?”
“Do what?”
“Make mom look foolish.”
“I wasn’t trying to make anyone look foolish.”
“Alright. We’ll talk about it tonight.”
Marina nodded.
“Definitely.”
Forty minutes later, they were signing the registry.
Then came the rings, a few photos, champagne in a small hall, and congratulations.
Galina Arkadyevna got teary-eyed, dabbing at the corners of her eyes with a napkin, repeating several times that now she finally had a real daughter.
At 1:30 the guests started heading to their cars.
Pavel opened the door of the rented minibus.
“Marina and I are going home real quick to change, grab mom’s gift, and then we’ll meet you at the restaurant.”
Galina Arkadyevna immediately perked up.
“Don’t forget to bring the keys with you.”
Marina got into the car.
Pavel sat beside her and gave the driver the address.
“18 Gorky Street.”
Marina leaned forward.
“No, to 47 Krasnoarmeyskaya.”
The driver looked at them in the mirror.
“So, which address?”
“Krasnoarmeyskaya 47,” Marina repeated.
Pavel turned to her.
“What’s going on?”
“That’s where we need to go.”
“Why?”
“To change clothes.”
He waited for her to say more.
“Marina, the dress is at home. My suit is there too. My things are all there.”
“Not anymore.”
Pavel frowned slowly.
“What do you mean?”
“Your things are on Krasnoarmeyskaya.”
“How did they end up there?”
“I moved them.”
The car fell silent.
The driver suddenly seemed incredibly focused on the road.
“Where did you move them to?”
“To the apartment I rented.”
Pavel laughed—short and incredulous.
“Very funny.”
Marina pulled her phone out of her bag.
“The lease was signed this morning. It’s a one-bedroom, 42 square meters. It’s a 20-minute drive from your job, 25 minutes from mine. Rent is 38,000 plus utilities. I’ll pay half, you’ll pay the other half.”
Pavel stared at her, mouth open in shock.
“You rented an apartment on our wedding day?”
“Yes.”
“Why?!”
“So we can have our own place.”
“We do have a home!”
“No, Pasha. I have an apartment. Yesterday you made it very clear that after the marriage registration, you plan to take control of it without my consent.”
He flushed with anger.
“Because of the keys?!”
“Because I said ‘no,’ and you decided my ‘no’ didn’t matter.”
“Are you crazy?”
“Maybe.”
“We just got married!”
“Exactly why I decided to get rid of any reason for arguments right away.”
Pavel grabbed the door handle as if he wanted to jump out of the car, then caught himself.
“Turn around,” he ordered the driver. “Gorky Street, 18.”
The driver glanced at them in the mirror.
“Which address do I set?”
“Krasnoarmeyskaya,” Marina said.
“I said Gorky!”
Marina turned to her husband.
“No one is waiting for you there.”
Pavel fell silent.
“What does that mean?”
“My apartment is rented out as of today.”
His expression changed.
“To whom?”
“A married couple.”
“You couldn’t have rented it out.”
“Why not?”
“Because my things are there!”
“Were there. I packed them this morning. Natalia helped me move the boxes.”
“You went through my stuff without me?!”
Marina was honestly surprised.
“And you promised your mom my apartment keys without asking me first.”
Pavel breathed in sharply.
“When did you find tenants?”
“They came to see the apartment at ten this morning.”
“Today?!”
“Yes.”
“On our wedding day?!”
“It worked out perfectly. They needed to move in quickly.”
Pavel grabbed his phone.
“I’m calling my mom right now.”
“Of course.”
“Do you even understand what you’ve done? She’s gathered guests! She told everyone we’d live in your apartment after the wedding, that she’d be there to help us!”
“Help how?”
“What do you mean, how?”
“How exactly is she helping?”
He waved his hand in annoyance.
“With things around the house. Cooking sometimes. Checking to make sure everything’s okay.”
“Without being invited?”
“Why do you always twist everything?!”
The car stopped at a red light.
Pavel dialed his mother.
“Mom, it’s about Marina…”
He turned to look out the window.
“In short, she rented out the apartment.”
Even Marina could hear the shouting from the phone.
“What?!”
Pavel pulled the phone away from his ear.
“Yes. Today.”
From the speaker came more yelling:
“So where will you live?!”
“She rented some one-bedroom.”
“What one-bedroom? She has her own apartment just sitting there!”
Marina looked out the window.
Pavel listened to the phone for a few seconds, then handed it to her.
“Here. Explain it yourself.”
Marina didn’t take the phone.
“This is your conversation with your mom. You promised her the keys—so you explain why she’s not getting them.”
“Marina!”
“I never promised her anything.”
He ended the call.
They drove to Krasnoarmeyskaya in silence.
The building turned out to be new, but completely ordinary—a twelve-story concrete tower, a pharmacy on the ground floor, a courtyard with a playground and a barrier gate.
Pavel got out of the car and glared at the building.
“Are you seriously planning to live here?”
“Yes.”
“After your own apartment?”
“It’s a decent place.”
“It’s rented!”
“But it’s shared, and we have equal rights to everything.”
He let out a short, bitter laugh.
“So, you’ll be getting money from your own apartment, and I get to pay for half of this one?”
“I’m paying half too.”
“And where does the income from Gorky go?”
“Into my account.”
“Oh, I see how it is.”
Pavel nodded slowly.
“Now everything’s finally clear.”
“And what exactly is clear to you?”
“That from the first day of marriage you decided to start hiding money.”
“My apartment was bought before we got married.”
“There it is again—your apartment!”
He raised his voice.
A woman walking by with her dog turned to look at them.
Marina opened the building door with her new key.
“Pasha, let’s get this straight right away. If you think that a stamp in your passport gives you the right to control what I bought eight years before you, we really do have something to talk about.”
“I never planned to take anything from you!”
“You were going to hand out keys without my consent.”
“To my mother!”
“Exactly.”
They went up to the sixth floor.
Marina unlocked the door.
In the hallway stood four plastic containers and two of Pavel’s suitcases.
One had his house sweater on top.
He stared at his things.
“You didn’t even leave me a closet?”
“The closet is built-in. There’s one in this apartment.”
“I wasn’t talking about this apartment!”
“But I am talking about this one.”
Pavel walked into the room.
The place really was ordinary. Light walls, a sofa, a wardrobe, a small TV. In the kitchen: a table, a fridge, and an electric stove.
No wedding decorations.
No flowers.
Only a clear folder lay on the table.
Pavel immediately noticed it.
“What’s this?”
“The rental agreement.”
He pulled out the sheet.
“Eleven months?!”
“Yes.”
“You rented this for almost a year?!”
“Almost.”
“What if I don’t want to live here?”
“Then don’t.”
Pavel looked up.
Marina took off her shoes and set them by the wall.
“You can go stay with your mom. You can find yourself another apartment. Or we can live here and build a real family, where both people make decisions. The choice is yours.”
“You set this all up just to humiliate me.”
“No.”
“On our wedding day!”
“Last night, I asked you three times if you planned to give your mom the keys after I told you I was against it. You said you still would.”
“Because that’s normal!”
“For you.”
“For any normal person!”
“Well, then it should be easy for you to find a woman who agrees with you.”
Pavel threw the contract down on the table.
His phone started ringing again in his pocket.
He glanced at the screen.
“Mom.”
“Pick up.”
“What am I supposed to say to her?”
Marina shrugged.
“Tell her the truth.”
“What truth?”
“That she’s not getting keys to my apartment.”
“Are you trying to make her hate you on purpose?”
“Pasha, your mom is 63. She’s an adult. How she feels about the keys to someone else’s apartment isn’t my responsibility.”
He ran his hand roughly through his hair.
“Alright. Fine. Let’s stop the circus. Tomorrow, you’ll terminate the tenants’ lease.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I signed the contract.”
“You’ll pay them compensation.”
“I won’t.”
“Then I will!”
“With what money?”
Pavel fell silent.
Marina knew exactly how much he had left after the wedding expenses: just a bit over sixty thousand.
The tenants had already paid the first month and a security deposit for her apartment.
“Marina, don’t make this ridiculous.”
“Actually, I finally stopped making it ridiculous.”
He looked at her for a few more seconds, then picked up one of the suitcases.
“Fine.”
“Where are you going?”
“To my mom’s.”
“Alright.”
“Don’t think I’ll be coming back tonight.”
“Okay.”
“Do you even realize that today is our wedding day?!”
Marina glanced down at the white dress she still hadn’t had time to take off.
“I realize that.”
“And you don’t care at all?”
She was silent for a moment.
“It’s not that I don’t care. But I’m not going to prove my love by handing over the keys to my apartment.”
Pavel grabbed the second suitcase.
At the door, he turned around abruptly.
“My mom warned me from the start that you’re too calculating.”
Marina nodded toward the suitcases.
“Good thing she gave you a heads-up in time.”
He slammed the door.
Twenty minutes later, Galina Arkadyevna called.
At first, Marina didn’t want to answer, but then she changed her mind.
“Yes, Galina Arkadyevna.”
“What on earth have you done?!”
The voice was so loud, she had to hold the phone away from her ear.
“Pasha showed up looking completely pale! His wedding is today, and his wife threw his things out the door!”
“I didn’t throw anything out. He came to you of his own accord.”
“Where else was he supposed to go? To your little rental hole?!”
“It’s his apartment too, if he wants to live there.”
“His apartment is on Gorky Street!”
“No, it’s not.”
There was a pause on the other end.
“What do you mean, no?”
“I mean what I said. It’s my apartment.”
“You’re husband and wife now!”
“Yes.”
“That means everything is shared!”
“Not everything.”
Galina Arkadyevna let out a noisy sigh.
“Now I see why you’re keeping the keys to yourself. Are you afraid I’ll see how you run things, or are you planning to bring another man over while Pasha’s at work?”
Marina closed her eyes.
With that last comment, any lingering doubts disappeared.
“Thank you, Galina Arkadyevna.”
“Thank me? For what now?”
“For making it clear exactly why you wanted the keys.”
“Don’t twist my words!”
“Goodbye.”
She ended the call and put her phone on silent.
Marina went to the restaurant after all.
Alone.
Her parents were already at the table, clearly confused by what was going on. A few of Pavel’s friends exchanged glances—his chair was empty.
Marina’s mother was the first to come up to her daughter.
“Where’s Pasha?”
“At his mom’s.”
“What happened?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
Her father looked at her closely.
“Is it really that bad?”
Marina took off her coat.
“Seems like we found out just in time.”
She decided not to cancel the dinner. Since the restaurant was paid for, the food prepared, and family had come, at least everyone could have a decent meal.
Half an hour later, Pavel sent a message.
“If you change your mind and give the apartment back, we can talk.”
Marina read the message and placed her phone face down.
Ten minutes later, another message came through.
“Mom says tenants can be evicted. The lease doesn’t mean anything if the owner changes their mind.”
Marina even let out a little laugh.
Natalya had drawn up the lease agreement with an agency lawyer. There’s no way the tenants can just be thrown out on the street because the new husband doesn’t like the address.
She only replied:
“The apartment is rented out. Nothing to discuss.”
The reply came almost immediately.
“Then why did you even bother getting married?”
Marina looked at the gold ring on her finger.
She’d been asking herself the same question all evening.
Three days later, Pavel came to collect the rest of his things.
This time, he came without his mother.
Marina was at home, working at the kitchen table while checking the material inventory for a new project.
Pavel walked in and looked around.
“You’ve got yourself set up pretty nicely.”
“It’s fine.”
“Have your tenants already moved in?”
“They have.”
He opened the fridge, as if he still had the right to check what was inside.
“So, how much are they paying you?”
Marina named the amount.
Pavel let out a whistle.
“You’ve really done well for yourself. Even making money off our conflict.”
“I was renting out the apartment even before I met you. I stopped when we decided to move in together.”
“So this was all planned in advance.”
“The plan came up the moment you said my opinion about the keys didn’t matter.”
Pavel closed the refrigerator.
“Mom overreacted.”
“Did you, too?”
He stayed silent for a moment.
“I just wanted to make her happy, that’s all.”
“At my expense.”
“Here we go again.”
“Pasha, you didn’t really care about the keys. You just wanted me to give in. I refused, so you did it your way.”
“Family doesn’t exist without compromise.”
“A compromise means both people give something up. What did you give up?”
He opened his mouth but said nothing.
Marina went on:
“I suggested a neutral apartment. Split the expenses half and half. No parents have keys—neither yours nor mine. That’s a compromise.”
Pavel smirked.
“And your two-bedroom is making you money.”
“My pre-marriage two-bedroom.”
“Of course.”
He zipped up his bag.
“You know, Mom’s right. You treat marriage like a business deal.”
“And you treat it like a way to get someone else’s resources for your family’s benefit.”
Pavel blushed.
“Screw you.”
He grabbed his bag.
This time, he closed the door gently, without slamming it.
Their divorce was finalized four months later.
There weren’t any major arguments. There was hardly anything to divide. They hadn’t made any big purchases together, had no kids, and Marina’s apartment remained hers.
The tenants stayed for the agreed eleven months, then moved out on their own—they bought an apartment in the neighboring district.
Marina returned home on a Saturday morning.
She opened the door with her own key.
The rooms felt strangely empty. On the kitchen windowsill there was a small, dried-out basil plant someone had forgotten.
She threw the window wide open.
Then she pulled a new lock cylinder out of her bag—the one she’d bought on the way home.
Not because she was afraid of Pavel.
It was just that the old set of keys used to be in his pocket, and Marina was done wondering how many copies a person could make without her knowing.
A week later, a mutual friend called.
“Did you hear? Pasha’s renting an apartment.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Right next to Galina Arkadyevna’s. Just two doors away. She cooks for him, comes over to clean. Of course, she has the keys.”
Marina laughed.
“So, everything worked out.”
“Doesn’t that bother you at all?”
Marina glanced at the new set of keys lying in a small ceramic bowl by the door.
She had one set.
The second was with her parents, sealed in an envelope for real emergencies only. They didn’t even know which drawer Marina kept it in.
No other key sets existed.