“We’ll give the apartment to Kirill,” said my mother-in-law. “He has three kids, and you and Andrey have everything you need.”
“We have a mortgage, Valentina Petrovna.”
“But both of you are working.”
Olga stayed silent then. She had no idea that soon something would happen that would make Kirill himself ask their mother to divide the apartment between the brothers.
“Andrey, we should go to the market this weekend. The freezer’s out of ground meat and any meat at all,” Olga said, settling onto the couch beside her husband.
“We can’t on Saturday. We’re going to my parents’.”
“This weekend?”
“Yes. It’s Dad’s birthday. Mom reminded me two weeks ago.”
“Right. I totally forgot. Do we really have to go?” Olga looked noticeably upset.
Andrey looked at his wife in surprise.
“Of course. We visit your parents on every holiday. Why should mine be any different?”
Olga didn’t reply and went to the kitchen.
In thirteen years of marriage, she never became close to her mother-in-law. Valentina Petrovna almost never made scenes or insulted Olga to her face. She just had a way of talking to her son that always resulted in him going to help his parents again.
One time it was the washing machine breaking down, another time the kitchen renovations needed finishing, or with a few days left before their pension, they needed to borrow some money.
Andrey always helped without question.
It wasn’t this that bothered Olga—she understood that parents are family. What really irritated her was that Andrey always had the time and money for the family that relied on him, while their own plans had to be put on hold again and again.
They had kids, a mortgage, jobs, and everyday family expenses. None of them lived in luxury; they just got used to handling everything themselves.
This time, they went to Andrey’s parents anyway.
Valentina Petrovna opened the door and glanced at the clock right away.
“Finally. We’ve been waiting for you.”
“Mom, there was traffic,” Andrey explained calmly.
“There’s always traffic with you.”
Olga took off her coat and didn’t say a word.
The living room was already filled with relatives. At the table sat Andrey’s father, his older brother Kirill with his wife Marina, and a few more family members.
“Hey there, little brother!” Kirill patted Andrey on the shoulder. “How’s life?”
“Work, home, kids. Everything’s alright.”
“Same as always for me,” Kirill smirked.
That was the truth. Over the past fifteen years, he had worked as a courier, on a construction site, as a taxi driver, but never stayed anywhere long.
Kirill and Marina had three kids. Money was always tight, and Valentina Petrovna believed her oldest son just had bad luck.
“Kirill’s going through a rough patch,” she told Andrey. “Help him out if you can.”
Andrey did help. Sometimes Olga found out only after the money had already been sent.
After the congratulations, guests scattered to other rooms. Olga cleared the plates from the table and headed to the kitchen. As she reached the door, she overheard Marina’s voice.
“I called the notary yesterday. We can get an appointment next week.”
“Alright,” Valentina Petrovna replied, “then we’ll take the documents and go together.”
“Why do you need a notary?” Olga heard her mother-in-law ask.
“The parents want to put the apartment in Kirill’s name,” Marina announced. Her mother-in-law shot her a warning look, but it was too late.
“In Kirill’s name?!”
“Yes,” Valentina Petrovna replied calmly. “What’s so surprising about that?”
“You have two sons.”
“I know.”
“Then why does only one get the apartment?”
“Because Kirill needs it more. He has three kids, and he and Marina can’t keep moving from rental to rental all the time.”
“We have a mortgage.”
“But you both work.”
“So if someone has a job, you can just forget about them?” Olga pressed.
“Don’t twist my words.”
Marina decided to chime in:
“Olga, we’re honestly barely getting by. Kirill’s work situation is touch and go. We just want a place to call our own.”
“Maybe he should find a job with a steady paycheck?”
Marina frowned.
“You think he’s not trying?”
“I think he gets help so often, he doesn’t really worry about money missing.”
“Girls, that’s enough,” Valentina Petrovna cut in sharply. “It’s your father’s birthday today.”
Olga grabbed a towel and turned away to the sink.
The conversation picked up again once they were home.
“And you’re just going to go along with it?” she asked.
Andrey shot his wife a sullen glance.
“What exactly do you expect me to do?”
“Talk to them.”
Andrey was silent for a moment.
“I don’t want to argue with my parents about the apartment while they’re alive. And I’m not going to fight them over it.”
“I’m not saying you should demand the apartment.”
“Then what do you want?”
Olga didn’t answer right away.
“Justice.”
“I’m not happy about any of this either. But I don’t want to turn family relationships into a fight over an inheritance.”
Olga didn’t argue anymore. Still, she couldn’t get the kitchen conversation out of her mind.
A few days later, she ran into an acquaintance near the mall.
“Olga, you won’t believe who I just saw.”
“Who?”
“Kirill.”
“So?”
Her friend pulled out her phone.
“Look at this.”
The video showed Kirill standing next to a taxi, hugging a woman Olga didn’t know. Then they both got in and drove away.
Olga stared at the screen for a few seconds.
“Was this a while ago?”
“I’m not sure. I recorded it yesterday.”
“Was Marina with them?”
“Of course not. I thought you’d show her. It’s not right… sneaking around when you’ve got three kids.”
“I’m not showing her that,” Olga said, handing back the phone.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s their family.”
She honestly didn’t want to get involved, but a few days later, she remembered her mother-in-law’s words: “Kirill needs it more.” That’s when a thought popped into her head, one that made her uncomfortable.
If Kirill was truly okay with getting the apartment knowing Andrey was also an heir, it meant he was just taking advantage of the situation and wasn’t planning to back down.
A few days later, Olga went to her husband’s brother’s house.
“Olya? Is something wrong?” Kirill asked in surprise when he opened the door.
“I want to talk.”
“Come on in.”
Olga stepped into the room.
“Do you know that Mom is planning to put the apartment in your name?”
“I know.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
Kirill shrugged.
“It’s their decision.”
“And if they’d decided to give it to Andrey?”
“They wouldn’t. Andrey has a place to live. We have three kids.”
“We have two, and we’re planning a third!”
“Why do you need a third one?”
“We want a girl. But why did you have three kids if you’re always running around with other women, away from your wife?”
Kirill laughed loudly on purpose, while Olga pulled out her phone.
“Take a look. Still find it funny?” she asked, pressing play on a video.
Kirill only caught the first few seconds before quickly looking away.
“Where did you get that?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Delete it.”
“Kirill…”
“Olga, I’m serious. Delete it. Do you want to ruin my family?”
“No. I want you to talk to your mother.”
“And what exactly am I supposed to say to her?”
“That the apartment should be split evenly with Andrey.”
“And if I agree?”
“Then the video stays with me, and Marina might get to see it.”
“Are you blackmailing me?” He stared at her, but Olga held his gaze.
“Yes. And I don’t like it either.”
“Alright. I’ll talk to Mom.”
“Really?”
“Really. But only if she agrees—you’ll delete the video in front of me and swear you’ll forget about it.”
“Deal.”
Kirill’s talk with his mother didn’t go smoothly.
“Kirill, why would you give up your apartment? I did everything for you.”
“Mom, I’m not giving it up. I just don’t want Andrey to end up with nothing. You always taught us that things should be fair between brothers.”
Valentina Petrovna argued for a long time, but Kirill wouldn’t budge.
“If you put the whole apartment in my name, I’ll just give half to Andrey anyway. Why make it complicated? Just do the right thing from the start.”
In the end, his mother agreed.
The paperwork was done so that both brothers would inherit equal shares of the apartment.
When Andrey learned about it, he could barely believe it.
“Why did Kirill suddenly decide to give up half?”
“Maybe his conscience woke up,” Olga said with a shrug.
“His?”
She smiled.
“Why not?”
At the next family celebration, Valentina Petrovna brought it up at the table.
“Just look at Kirill!” she said with pride. “He insisted that the apartment should be split between him and Andrey—even though he could’ve kept it all.”
Andrey looked at his brother.
“Didn’t expect that.”
“It’s all for you guys,” Kirill muttered.
Olga turned away to hide her laughter. Kirill noticed and shot her a disapproving look. They never spoke of the video again.
Everyone got what they wanted. And no one at the table ever found out what made Kirill suddenly become so fair.