Elina put the cezve with coffee on the stove and listened to the sounds from outside. A new day was already beginning beyond the window, and in the apartment there was that special kind of silence that only exists in spacious rooms. The two-room apartment in the city center was her pride and the result of seven years of hard work. Every square meter had been hard-earned — first the down payment, then the monthly mortgage payments that sometimes took up half of the marketer’s salary.
But now all of that was behind her. The apartment fully belonged to Elina, and two years ago, when Lyosha proposed, it was a natural decision for him to move in with her. Why rent when there is your own spacious place? Lyosha readily agreed back then — working as an engineer at a factory, renting a separate apartment would have been a stretch on his salary.
The cezve began to softly bubble, and Elina took the coffee off the heat. Behind her, she heard her husband’s footsteps; he was already getting ready for work.
“Elin, Mom is coming today,” Lyosha said, buttoning his shirt. “She’ll stay for a couple of days if you don’t mind.”
“Of course not,” Elina replied, pouring coffee into two cups. “I haven’t seen Raisa Semyonovna in a long time.”
Lyosha nodded gratefully and kissed his wife on the cheek before leaving. Elina finished her coffee and started getting ready for her workday. The mother-in-law’s visit was nothing unusual — Raisa Semyonovna would occasionally come from her neighborhood, where she lived in a one-room apartment with her daughter Svetlana.
By evening, Elina came home tired — it had been a tense day, with long negotiations with clients and edits to a presentation. In the hallway stood unfamiliar slippers, and Raisa Semyonovna’s voice came from the kitchen.
“Lyoshka, why is the wardrobe in the bedroom so big? There’s so much space, but so few things,” the mother-in-law said.
“Mom, it’s just more convenient,” Lyosha replied placatingly.
Elina took off her coat and went to the kitchen to say hello. Raisa Semyonovna looked as always — neatly combed, wearing a formal blouse, with an attentive gaze that seemed to assess everything around her.
“Elinochka, dear!” Raisa Semyonovna stood up and hugged her daughter-in-law. “It’s so good that you came. Lyosha showed me the whole apartment. What beauty! So much space!”
“Thank you, Raisa Semyonovna,” Elina smiled. “How is Svetlana?”
“Everything’s fine, she works a lot. It’s just getting a bit cramped in the one-room apartment. Svetlana is already grown, thirty-two years old, and we live like students,” sighed the mother-in-law. “But oh well, I won’t complain.”
Lyosha put a plate of sliced vegetables on the table and sat next to his mother. Elina noticed how carefully Raisa Semyonovna looked over the spacious kitchen, the wide windowsills, the high ceilings.
“Is your balcony glazed?” asked the mother-in-law.
“Yes, we glazed it the first year after buying the apartment,” Elina replied. “Now you can sit there in winter and read.”
“Oh, so much space…” Raisa Semyonovna said dreamily. “And the bathroom is separate from the toilet?”
“Yes, they are separate.”
The mother-in-law shook her head with a special expression, as if calculating something in her mind. Elina thought that Raisa Semyonovna was probably just comparing it to their cramped one-room apartment where she had to share space with her daughter.
After dinner, they drank tea with cookies. Lyosha talked about work, Raisa Semyonovna about the neighbors and problems with utilities in their building. The conversation flowed leisurely until the mother-in-law suddenly fell silent, as if gathering her thoughts.
“You know, kids,” Raisa Semyonovna began carefully setting her cup on the saucer, “I’ve been thinking… What if we exchanged your apartment for two? Enough for you and Lyosha, and a peaceful old age for me…”
Elina froze, cup in hand. Did she hear that right? The mother-in-law was suggesting exchanging her apartment? The very one Elina had been paying a mortgage on for seven years, the one she had invested all her savings in?
“What what, Mom?” Lyosha repeated, as if he also couldn’t believe what he heard.
“Well, just think about it,” Raisa Semyonovna continued enthusiastically. “The market’s decent now, you can find two one-room apartments in good condition. One would be enough for you — you’re young, no kids yet. And I’d have my own place, no need to disturb Svetlana. Everyone would be happy!”
Elina slowly put her cup on the table, trying to keep a calm expression. Inside, something tightened — not out of anger, but confusion. How can one talk so casually about someone else’s apartment, as if it were joint property?
“Mom, this is… a complicated issue,” Lyosha muttered, glancing at his wife.
“What’s complicated about it?” Raisa Semyonovna was surprised. “I’m not asking for a gift! A fair exchange, all legal. Just think about it.”
Elina forced a tight smile and nodded.
“Of course, Raisa Semyonovna, we’ll think about it. But for now, maybe it’s time to finish the tea — tomorrow’s a workday.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” agreed the mother-in-law. “I’ll go to sleep. Lyosha, will you show me where the bedding is?”
While Lyosha made the bed for his mother in the living room, Elina cleared the table. Her mother-in-law’s words kept spinning in her head: “exchange your apartment,” “all legal,” “everyone happy.” Could Raisa Semyonovna seriously think this was something she could just propose? As if the apartment didn’t belong specifically to Elina, but to them as a married couple?
When Lyosha returned to the kitchen, Elina was finishing washing the dishes.
“Listen, was Mom serious?” the husband quietly asked.
“I don’t know,” Elina answered shortly. “Ask her tomorrow.”
“She’s probably just daydreaming,” Lyosha tried to reassure her. “You know how cramped it is for her and Svetlana.”
Elina remained silent. Of course, she understood that living in a one-room apartment for two grown women was uncomfortable. But to propose exchanging someone else’s property… That crossed all boundaries.
The next day, Elina left for work earlier than usual — she needed to prepare a report for a meeting. Raisa Semyonovna was still asleep, and Elina quietly had breakfast, trying not to wake her.
The workday went as usual, but her thoughts kept returning to the previous day’s conversation. Was it really serious? Or just daydreams aloud?
Elina came home around six in the evening. Lyosha’s men’s shoes stood in the hallway — so he was already home. Muffled voices came from the kitchen. Elina took off her coat and was about to head to the kitchen but stopped by the slightly open door when she heard her name.
“…Elina won’t mind anyway,” Raisa Semyonovna was saying. “She’s a smart girl, understands that family is the main thing.”
“Mom, but it’s her apartment,” Lyosha hesitated to object.
“Lyosh, are you serious? You’re husband and wife, you have joint household. And besides, think about it — why do you need such a big apartment just for two? And I’d at least have my own corner.”
“Well, yeah, there is really a lot of space…”
“Exactly! I’d take a smaller one-room apartment in your area. So I could be close, help when grandchildren come.”
Elina froze by the door. So yesterday’s conversation wasn’t a casual suggestion. Raisa Semyonovna had thought it all through, even picked the neighborhood. And the worst part — her husband wasn’t protesting; it seemed he even agreed.
“And how do you think, Elina, will she agree?” Lyosha asked.
“Of course she’ll agree! She’s a reasonable woman. She’ll understand it’s better for everyone. And besides, it’s not for free — a fair exchange. I can even pay a little extra if needed.”
“Hmm, maybe it really should be discussed…”
Elina clenched her fists. Discuss? Her own property? Without her? As if this wasn’t the apartment Elina herself bought, saved for seven years, and paid off the loan on?
“Of course it should!” Raisa Semyonovna said enthusiastically. “I’ve even looked at ads online. There are good one-room apartments. One room is enough for you and Elina — young, no kids.”
“Yeah, probably…”
Elina stepped away from the door and went to the bedroom. She needed time to collect herself. Not so much from the proposal itself as from how easily Lyosha agreed with his mother. As if the apartment really was their joint property, not the result of Elina’s many years of effort.
Sitting on the bed, Elina tried to sort out her feelings. There was no anger — only a bitterness from realizing that the closest people saw her property as something shared, open for discussion and planning.
About twenty minutes later, footsteps came from the kitchen. Lyosha peeked into the bedroom with a guilty look.
“Elin, Mom and I are drinking tea. Will you join?”
“Yeah, in a moment,” Elina replied shortly.
The time had come to put an end to this. She could no longer stay silent and pretend nothing was happening. Elina stood up, squared her shoulders, and headed to the kitchen.
Raisa Semyonovna sat at the table with a cup in her hands, Lyosha was seated opposite his mother. When Elina entered, the conversation stopped, and an awkward silence fell.
“Sit down, Elinochka,” the mother-in-law invited with a forced smile. “Lyosha and I were discussing plans for tomorrow.”
“I know what plans you were discussing,” Elina said calmly, sitting down on the third chair. “I heard your conversation about exchanging the apartment.”
Raisa Semyonovna blushed slightly but quickly composed herself.
“Oh, so you heard! Well, that’s good, then we can discuss everything right away,” the mother-in-law fussed. “I explained to Lyosha it would be a fair exchange, no cheating anyone.”
“Raisa Semyonovna,” Elina put her hands on the table, “let’s start with the facts. This apartment was bought by me before the marriage. With my own money that I earned for seven years. Not a penny from Lyosha, nor from you.”
“Of course, dear,” Raisa Semyonovna quickly agreed. “But now you’re a family! Joint household, common interests…”
“Family is one thing, but property rights are another,” Elina interrupted. “And we have no joint interests regarding my apartment.”
Lyosha shifted nervously in his chair.
“Elin, Mom just suggested an option…”
“An option for what?” Elina sharply turned to her husband. “Disposing of my property? Lyosha, do you understand you’re discussing selling an apartment that belongs to me?”
“We were just fantasizing,” Raisa Semyonovna defended her son. “I’m not demanding or insisting! Just voiced a thought…”
“Fantasies belong in books, not when it concerns someone else’s property,” Elina replied firmly. “Every such idea is an intrusion into my personal boundaries. And this is no longer a joke.”
“You’re too harsh,” Lyosha muttered without looking up. “Mom didn’t mean any harm…”
“And you’re too soft,” Elina countered. “Especially when it comes to someone else’s property.”
Raisa Semyonovna placed her cup on the saucer with a light clink.
“Someone else’s? Elinochka, we’re family!”
“Being family isn’t a reason to think you’re entitled to anything,” Elina said firmly. Something inside her snapped completely, and the words poured out: “The apartment was bought with my money! Your mother shouldn’t even dream of a share!”
A deadly silence fell. Raisa Semyonovna paled, then slowly blushed.
“So that’s how it is,” whispered the mother-in-law. “I didn’t expect such coldness from you, Elina. Such selfishness.”
“That’s not selfishness,” Elina replied calmly. “It’s protecting my rights.”
Raisa Semyonovna abruptly stood up from the table.
“Lyosha, I can’t stay in this house anymore. Your wife made it clear I’m not wanted here.”
“Mom, don’t leave like that,” Lyosha asked confusedly. “Let’s talk calmly…”
“What’s there to talk about?” Raisa Semyonovna snapped. “They clearly told me this isn’t my territory. Fine, I get it.”
The mother-in-law headed to the living room where she was sleeping. Elina remained sitting at the table, and Lyosha ran after his mother, trying to calm her down. Muffled voices, footsteps, and the sound of a cabinet door closing could be heard.
Half an hour later, Lyosha returned to the kitchen looking confused.
“Mom is packing. She’ll leave tomorrow morning.”
“All right,” Elina answered shortly.
“Elin, maybe you should have been gentler?” the husband asked uncertainly.
“Lyosha, did you want me to agree to exchanging my apartment?”
“Well… I don’t know. Maybe we could have at least discussed it…”
“There’s nothing to discuss. This is my property, and only I decide what to do with it.”
“The thing is, we’re family…”
“That’s exactly why you should protect my interests, not let your mother fantasize about exchanging my property.”
Lyosha was silent for a long time, digesting what he heard. Then slowly nodded.
“Maybe you’re right. I didn’t think about how it sounds…”
“Think about it now. And remember — there won’t be a next time.”
That evening, Elina sat on the glazed balcony with a book. The apartment was quiet and peaceful, just as it should be. No one was discussing exchange plans, no hungry eyes measuring square meters.
Lyosha peeked onto the balcony.
“Elin, Mom called. She wants to apologize.”
“All right,” Elina replied without looking up from her book.
“She realized she was wrong.”
“That’s good too.”
“And it won’t happen again.”
Elina finally looked at her husband.
“Lyosha, I hope you understood that too. Because boundaries are set not only for your mother but also for you.”
Her husband nodded seriously.
“I understand.”
Elina smiled and returned to reading. Now there was order in the house — both in the space and in the rights. It only took once to firmly put an end to it, and no one dared bring foreign plans into their home anymore. The apartment stayed exactly where it belonged — in her sole ownership. And family relationships, oddly enough, only benefited from this clarity.