The keys jingled in the lock, and Lidia pushed open the door to her two-room apartment. The July heat outside had made her turn the air conditioner on that morning, so the place should have been cool. But instead of silence, she was greeted by children’s laughter and unfamiliar voices.
Lidia froze in the entryway. Someone else’s sandals, children’s toys, and a travel bag were scattered on the floor. From the living room came the sound of a TV and women’s voices. Had she walked into the wrong apartment?
“Who’s here?” Lidia called, walking into the living room.
An astonishing scene unfolded before her eyes. Larisa Nikolaevna—her mother-in-law—was sitting on the sofa in a house robe and slippers. Next to her was a young woman with two little kids: one crawling on the rug, the other hanging in her arms. The furniture had been pushed aside to make room for baby gear.
“Oh, Lida’s here!” Larisa Nikolaevna turned around as if she were welcoming a guest into her own home. “Meet Vika—Kolya’s sister. And these are her kids—little Artyom and Slavik.”
Lidia stared at the scene in confusion. Vika, about twenty-five, nodded in greeting while rocking the baby. The older child, a boy around three, had scattered building blocks all over the floor.
“Excuse me,” Lidia began, trying to stay calm, “but what is going on here?”
“Vika’s moved in with you temporarily,” Larisa Nikolaevna explained in a tone that allowed no arguments. “She has housing problems, and family helps family.”
Lidia felt blood rush to her face. No one had asked her consent for this invasion. In her own apartment she was being presented with a done deal.
“Where is Kolya?” Lidia asked, meaning her husband.
“At work, of course,” her mother-in-law replied. “A man should earn money, not wander around the house.”
Lidia went into the kitchen, hoping to find at least one small island of order. But another surprise waited there too. The sink was packed with dirty dishes, pots with leftovers stood on the stove, and the fridge was hanging wide open. Larisa Nikolaevna had been running the place like it was her territory.
“Larisa Nikolaevna,” Lidia began carefully, “I need to talk to Kolya. He didn’t warn me about guests.”
“What guests?” her mother-in-law snapped. “Vika is your husband’s own sister. And the kids are our grandchildren.”
“But I was supposed to know…”
“Know what?” Larisa Nikolaevna cut her off. “That family supports each other in hard times? That goes without saying.”
Lidia tried to call her husband, but his phone was unavailable. Apparently Nikolai had deliberately not answered, anticipating an unpleasant conversation.
That evening, when her husband returned from work, Lidia tried to get answers. Nikolai hung up his jacket, avoiding his wife’s eyes.
“Kolya, explain what’s going on,” Lidia demanded. “Why do I find out about ‘guests’ by coming home and seeing them in my apartment?”
“Well, you see…” Nikolai hesitated. “Vika’s having temporary difficulties. She left her husband, rent is expensive, and the kids are small…”
“For how long?”
“Until she sorts out her housing situation.”
“So… indefinitely?”
Nikolai shrugged as if it had nothing to do with him.
“Lid, try to understand. Family helping family is sacred.”
“And asking my opinion isn’t sacred?” Lidia kept her voice low so no one in the living room would hear.
“Mom’s already decided everything,” Nikolai waved her off. “What are we supposed to do now—throw them out on the street?”
Lidia realized there wouldn’t be a serious conversation. Her husband had already chosen a defensive position, shifting responsibility onto his mother.
By evening she discovered more unpleasant surprises. Her expensive face cream in the bathroom was half gone—apparently Vika had helped herself. The prepared food Lidia had cooked for the next day was gone from the fridge. Even her favorite yogurt had been given to the baby.
“Sorry,” Vika smiled guiltily when Lidia noticed, “Artyom really wanted it. I’ll buy you a new one tomorrow.”
Lidia nodded, not wanting a scandal. But irritation built up with every minute. In her own apartment she felt like a guest—and not a welcome one.
That night turned into a real nightmare. The baby cried every two hours, demanding to be fed. Vika soothed him loudly, turned on the light, walked around the apartment. The older child woke up from his brother’s cries and started crying too.
“Hush, boys, hush,” their mother whispered—but her whisper was louder than ordinary conversation.
And to top it all off, Larisa Nikolaevna turned on the TV in the living room and watched a late-night movie at full volume. When Lidia asked her to turn it down, her mother-in-law replied:
“What, you can’t sleep anyway. The kids are crying.”
By morning Lidia felt shattered. Red eyes and dark circles gave away the sleepless night. And ahead of her was a workday with an important presentation.
The kitchen greeted her with total chaos. Apparently Larisa Nikolaevna had made breakfast for “the whole family.” Dirty plates, porridge residue on the stove, spilled milk on the table—cleaning it would take at least half an hour.
“Larisa Nikolaevna,” Lidia said to her mother-in-law, “could I ask you to clean up after yourselves?”
“What do you mean, clean up?” the older woman bristled. “I cooked breakfast for my grandkids. Should the children go hungry?”
“But after cooking you need to wash the dishes…”
“What, your hands fell off?” Larisa Nikolaevna snapped. “Young, healthy—and doesn’t want to work.”
Lidia bit her tongue. Arguing with an angry mother-in-law meant being late for work for sure. She quickly washed her face with cold water—Vika was using the hot water to bathe the kids—and rushed out.
At work, colleagues noticed how exhausted she looked.
“Did you not sleep all night?” asked Irina from the neighboring department.
“Guests came,” Lidia said shortly, not wanting to explain.
The presentation went badly. Lidia mixed up numbers, forgot important details, and didn’t look convincing. Her boss wasn’t pleased.
“Lida, do you have problems?” he asked after the meeting. “You’re usually more collected.”
“It’s fine,” Lidia assured him. “Just a bit tired.”
That evening, coming home, she found new changes in the apartment. A baby crib now stood in the bedroom where Lidia and her husband slept. Vika’s things had taken up half the closet, and children’s toys were strewn throughout the place.
“Kolya,” Lidia began when her husband came back from work, “we need to talk seriously.”
“About what?” Nikolai turned on the TV, clearly signaling he didn’t want to talk.
“About how long your family plans to live here.”
“Until Vika solves her problems.”
“And a specific timeframe?”
“How would I know? Maybe a month, maybe two.”
“Two months?” Lidia was horrified. “Kolya, I can’t live like this! Kids cry at night, your mother orders everyone around in the kitchen, there’s a line for the bathroom…”
“Lid, hang in there,” Nikolai pleaded tiredly. “Vika will divorce her husband, get child support, rent a place.”
“And in the meantime I have to tolerate a mess in my own apartment?”
“It’s temporary,” her husband said, but his voice lacked confidence.
At dinner Lidia tried to raise practical issues. Everyone sat at the table: Nikolai, Larisa Nikolaevna, Vika with the kids, and Lidia. The atmosphere was tense.
“Maybe we can agree on a bathroom schedule?” Lidia suggested. “And on who cleans the kitchen and when?”
Larisa Nikolaevna shot to her feet, eyes flashing.
“Who are you here, anyway?” she blurted. “This is my son’s apartment, not yours! You’re going to tell us how to live?”
Lidia felt her face burn with shame and anger. In her own apartment, at her own table, she was being yelled at and put in her place.
“Larisa Nikolaevna,” Lidia began, trying to keep her dignity, “the apartment is registered in my name…”
“In your name?” her mother-in-law cackled. “And who paid the down payment? Who’s carrying the mortgage? My son! And you just got registered here like a tenant.”
Nikolai stayed silent, staring at his plate. Vika pretended she was feeding the child and didn’t hear the conversation. Lidia realized she was alone against her husband’s entire family.
At that moment something switched in her mind. As if a fog lifted and the picture became crystal clear. Her husband wasn’t defending her, her mother-in-law was openly insulting her, and her sister-in-law silently backed her mother. Lidia stood up from the table without saying a word.
“Where are you going?” Larisa Nikolaevna shouted after her. “This conversation isn’t over!”
But Lidia was already walking into the bedroom. Her hands moved automatically—she opened the closet and pulled out a folder with documents: her passport, the property registration certificate, the apartment purchase contract. Everything was in the name of Lidia Vasilyevna Smirnova. The down payment of seven hundred thousand rubles was her grandmother’s inheritance. The fifteen-year mortgage was also in Lidia’s name, because her salary was higher.
Rereading the documents, Lidia remembered how three years earlier she and Nikolai had chosen this place. Back then her husband worked as a salesperson and earned less than she did, so the bank approved the loan in Lidia’s name. Nikolai was a co-borrower, but she was the primary borrower. Apparently Larisa Nikolaevna believed that since her son paid half the mortgage, he had equal rights to the apartment. But legally, the owner was Lidia.
“Lid, what are you doing in there?” her husband’s voice came from the kitchen.
“Checking the documents,” Lidia answered calmly.
In the living room they turned the TV back on, apparently deciding the conflict was over. Larisa Nikolaevna commanded the remote, choosing a program. Vika put the baby down, and the older child played with blocks on the floor.
Lidia took out her phone and opened a taxi app. She ordered two larger cars—one to fit Larisa Nikolaevna with Vika and the kids, the other for Nikolai and his belongings. Destination: her mother-in-law’s home across town.
The first car would arrive in ten minutes. She ordered the second with a five-minute interval. She told the drivers the passengers would have luggage and children.
“Lidka, come here!” Larisa Nikolaevna called from the living room. “There’s a show about family values—good for you to watch.”
Lidia came out of the bedroom holding the folder of documents. The family was settled in front of the TV: her mother-in-law in an armchair, Vika on the sofa with the baby, Nikolai nearby, the older child on the rug.
“What family values are we talking about?” Lidia asked.
“About young people respecting their elders,” Larisa Nikolaevna said instructively. “And not demanding rights in someone else’s house.”
“Someone else’s?” Lidia repeated. “Interesting. And whose house is this, exactly?”
“My son’s, of course,” her mother-in-law snorted. “A man is the head of the family.”
Lidia opened the folder and pulled out the ownership certificate.
“The owner of this apartment is Smirnova Lidia Vasilyevna. That’s me,” she said clearly and loudly.
Silence fell over the room. Even the child stopped playing, sensing the tension.
“Let me see that,” Larisa Nikolaevna demanded, reaching for the document.
“I won’t,” Lidia snapped. “And I’ll explain why you’re packing up right now and leaving.”
“What?” Nikolai jumped up from the sofa. “Lid, what are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the truth,” Lidia replied without raising her voice. “This apartment is mine. The down payment was my money. The mortgage is in my name. I’m registered here. And you are guests who have gone too far.”
Outside, the sound of a car pulling up could be heard. Lidia went to the window and nodded.
“Your taxi is here.”
“What taxi?” Vika asked helplessly, clutching the baby to her chest.
“The one that will take you to Larisa Nikolaevna’s place,” Lidia explained. “You have fifteen minutes to pack.”
Larisa Nikolaevna sprang up from the chair, her face turning crimson.
“You can’t!” she screamed. “I’m the mother of the family! How can you kick out the grandmother of your grandchildren?”
“Very easily,” Lidia said. “I take the documents proving my rights, call a taxi, and tell you to pack. If you refuse, my next call is to the police.”
“Lid, cool down!” Nikolai tried to intervene. “We can talk like civilized people.”
“Talk?” Lidia scoffed. “When you brought your relatives here without my consent, did we talk? When your mother called me a tenant in my own home, did we talk?”
Nikolai opened his mouth but couldn’t find words. Indeed, the family had acted by imposing a done deal.
The doorbell rang. Lidia went to open it—the second car had arrived.
“Two cars are waiting,” she announced, returning to the living room. “Move faster.”
“I’m not going anywhere!” Larisa Nikolaevna declared, folding her arms. “This is my son’s home!”
“Your son is registered here, but I’m the owner,” Lidia repeated patiently. “And I have the right to decide who lives in my apartment.”
“And me?” Nikolai asked. “Do I have to leave too?”
Lidia looked at her husband closely—the man who had stayed silent three days earlier while his mother insulted his wife. Who hadn’t warned her about the relatives’ arrival. Who chose his family’s side against his spouse.
“You made your choice when you supported your mother against me,” Lidia said. “Now live with that choice.”
Vika began gathering the children’s things, realizing arguing was useless. The baby started crying, sensing his mother’s anxiety. The older child asked why they were leaving.
“Mom, maybe we really should go,” Vika said quietly to Larisa Nikolaevna. “You see what the situation is.”
“Not a step!” the mother-in-law barked. “Let her leave if she doesn’t like it!”
Lidia took out her phone and dialed the police.
“Hello, duty officer?” she said loudly. “I need a unit to forcibly remove people from my apartment…”
“Stop!” Nikolai shouted. “Don’t call the police!”
Lidia ended the call but didn’t put the phone away.
“Then pack up and leave. Now.”
The next ten minutes were chaotic packing. Larisa Nikolaevna muttered curses under her breath while stuffing things into a bag. Vika hurriedly folded children’s clothes and toys. Nikolai darted between rooms, unsure what to take.
“And my things?” her husband asked, pointing at the closet.
“You’ll take them later,” Lidia said. “We’ll arrange a time.”
Two cars stood by the entrance. Larisa Nikolaevna and Vika with the kids got into the first taxi, crammed in with difficulty. Nikolai took the second car with the luggage.
“Lid, think again. Maybe we should…”
“No,” Lidia said firmly. “You should have thought earlier—before bringing this circus here.”
The taxis drove away, leaving Lidia alone in the silence of her own apartment. She walked through the rooms, taking in the extent of the mess. But it no longer seemed important. The main thing was that she had regained control of her life.
The first thing Lidia did was call a locksmith. An hour later, the worker changed the locks on the front door. The old keys stayed with Lidia; the new keys too. Nikolai could no longer enter the apartment without permission.
In the evening Lidia put the kitchen and bathroom back in order, aired out the rooms. The apartment became her fortress again—quiet, cozy, belonging only to her.
The next morning she took a day off and went to the registry office. She filled out the divorce application quickly, without hesitation. Nikolai would receive the notice by mail.
“Does your spouse agree to the divorce?” the clerk asked. “If not, you’ll need to go to court.”
“He’ll find out when he gets the summons,” Lidia replied.
Leaving the building, she felt a strange lightness. For the first time in many months, no one was telling her how to live. No one was commanding her in her own home. Life was starting over—this time on her terms