— Alright, Lika, — Anton pushed the cup away from under his latte, almost finished to the bottom, leaving a dark ring on the saucer. He looked at his fiancée with the expression of someone ready to say something important and long thought over.
That look of his, slightly disdainful and at the same time businesslike, always foretold another “brilliant” plan that would later leave Lika irritated and bitter for a long time.
— You talk to your parents, let them help us with the apartment for the wedding. Not just some living space, but a three-room flat, preferably right in the center. So that everything is solid, you know? It’s time to think about the future. And not some old-fashioned Khrushchyovka with wallpaper from the ’80s, but something normal, modern finishes, so we can move in right away without extra hassle.
Lika, who was just about to put a neat piece of cheesecake decorated with a sprig of mint into her mouth, froze. Her fork hung in the air as if it had hit an invisible wall. Slowly lowering her hand, she carefully put down her cup, trying not to spill the remaining cappuccino. She looked at Anton for a long time, shifting her gaze from his confident face to the lively street behind him, where passersby laughed and hurried on their errands. Lika tried to catch even a hint of a joke, a game, but his expression spoke for itself — he was completely serious.
— Sorry… what? — her voice was quieter than usual, almost a whisper. Something inside suddenly tightened sharply. They were sitting in their favorite café “Bonbon,” a cozy corner with soft sofas and dim light, where just an hour ago they had been happily discussing wedding details — ribbon colors, first dance music. And now it felt as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water on her.
— An apartment, — Anton calmly repeated, as if explaining an elementary truth. — A three-room one. In the center. Well, we’re getting married, Lika. It’s logical. We have to live somewhere. My parents definitely can’t afford it — they still have a mortgage, and my younger brother studies in a paid university. And yours… they’re not poor people. Your father, if I remember correctly, runs a large company. For them, it’s not a problem, right?
Lika took a deep breath, feeling irritation rising. Her appetite vanished without a trace. The cheesecake, which a minute ago seemed the pinnacle of gastronomic art, now looked like a tasteless blotchy mass.
— Anton, are you serious? — she tried to speak calmly, though a storm was already brewing inside. — You want my parents to buy us an apartment? A three-room one? In the center? Just like that, as if it’s their duty?
— Whose else then? — he was surprised by her reaction, raising his eyebrows. — It seems obvious to me. They’re helping you with the wedding, which is good, of course. But that’s just one day. And the apartment — that’s the foundation, you understand? The basis of our life. So I don’t have to be distracted by everyday stuff, can work calmly, build my career. I can’t live like that — crammed in a rental or with parents. That’s not for me.
Something inside Lika snapped. Cold, clear irritation replaced her attempts to stay calm.
— Aren’t you taking on too much, my dear? Who said my parents are obliged to buy us housing?
Her voice was even, but steel rang in it. Anton tensed slightly. The patrons around began looking at them with obvious interest.
— They help because they love me! Because they want our day to be beautiful and special! Not because you see them as an ATM for the future!
Anton leaned back against the sofa, crossing his arms over his chest. His face became offended, mixed with stubbornness.
— Lika, why so immediately? As if I’m asking for the impossible. I’m thinking about us. Everyone does it. Or do you want us to live in rentals for ten years? I just want to create comfortable conditions. Tell them that’s my condition. A firm one.
Lika’s breath caught. A condition?!
— A condition? — she repeated, her voice icy. — You set conditions for me? And use my parents as an ATM? Do you even realize who you think you are? Maybe you want the keys to the dacha and my dad’s car re-registered to you next?
She stood up sharply, the chair screeching unpleasantly as it slid across the floor. Now she looked down at him, her eyes darkening with anger.
— Listen, Anton. With that attitude and those demands, you won’t get any apartment from them. I promise you that. And most likely, no wedding either.
She took out some money, threw it on the table without even checking the amount, and quickly headed to the exit. Her heels clicked loudly on the floor like the metronome of resolve. Anton was left alone, mouth half-open, stunned and angry. His perfect plan was collapsing like a house of cards.
Continuation (dialogue in the car):
Anton sat in the car parked right by the café, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. Anger mixed with bewilderment. What stubbornness in this girl? Over such a small thing — just a reasonable request — to cause a scandal! He just wants the best for both of them.
A couple of deep breaths — and he dialed a number.
— Lika, hi. Let’s not sulk, — he began amicably. — I didn’t want to offend you. Just thought about our future.
— Anton, I think we discussed everything at the café, — Lika answered calmly. Her voice was even, but tired. It was clear she was not alone — muffled voices could be heard somewhere in the background.
— What did you discuss? — Anton felt irritated again. — You just got upset for no reason! I didn’t offer anything impossible — just a normal, mature way out of the housing issue. Why do you react like this? Are your parents poor? Helping children is natural. It’s an investment in your family’s future, grandchildren, finally!
— Enough, Anton, — Lika’s voice grew colder. — My parents owe us nothing. Especially not you and your “demands.” And I won’t be the mediator for your claims.
— What do you mean “owe nothing”? — his voice broke into outrage. — Then who should? We’re going to save for this apartment in the center for twenty years? Or do you want to sit in a rented studio all your life? I want a good life right away! And if there’s a chance to start with comfort, why not take it? You’re just selfish for not seeing the simple things! You think only about your principles, not reality!
— Selfish because I don’t want to humiliate my parents by begging for a gift for you for the wedding? — Lika laughed, but there was no joy in it. — You know what, Anton… After all you said, I’m glad I left the café. By the way, my parents are here now. And they are totally shocked by your proposal.
Anton hesitated. That was serious. If Lika told her parents everything, they might definitely side with their daughter.
— Well done, running to complain right away, — he tried to hide his anxiety with sarcasm. — Instead of talking calmly…
— There’s nothing to talk about, Anton, — she interrupted. — I said everything. They understood everything. Dad even wants to talk to you personally. Want me to hand over the phone?
Mentioning Viktor Semyonovich, a strict and decisive man, made Anton feel a chill inside. He imagined the conversation — and the desire to continue instantly vanished.
— No-no, no need, — he hurriedly refused. — I’ll contact him myself when needed. Like adults.
The conversation clearly wasn’t going well. Lika was adamant, but Anton was not used to giving up. If talking directly didn’t work, then he would talk to the parents. Viktor Semyonovich — a man, he would understand the logic. And Irina Pavlovna — the mother, she wanted her daughter’s well-being. Surely Lika distorted much. He just needed to rephrase the situation.
— Alright, Lika, — he composed himself and spoke more officially. — If you’re not ready to talk, it’s better to turn to your parents. I think they’ll understand me. After all, it’s about your own good.
She sighed heavily.
— Do as you see fit. But I have little confidence you’ll change anything. Rather the opposite.
And she hung up without waiting for a reply. Anton threw the phone on the seat. Well, challenge accepted. If Lika can’t objectively convey his point of view, he’d have to act himself.
An hour later there was a knock at her parents’ apartment door. Lika, sitting in the kitchen with her mom and dad, tensed inwardly. She had almost no doubt who it was. Her father stood up, frowning, heading to the entrance.
— I’ll open, — he said shortly.
Indeed, it was Anton at the doorstep. His face was composed, in his hands — a glossy interior design magazine, apparently for show.
— Hello, Viktor Semyonovich, Irina Pavlovna, — he began confidently. — Just passing by, thought I’d drop in. Got a good magazine, thought maybe we could look through some ideas for our future home.
Viktor Semyonovich silently let him in, but his look was such that Anton wanted to turn around and leave. Irina Pavlovna came out of the kitchen with an expression of displeasure. Lika stood behind her mother, eyes burning. Tension hung in the air like before a storm.
— Come in if you came, — said the father, indicating the living room. — But you can leave the magazine. I don’t think it’ll be needed today. I see the conversation won’t be about renovation.
Anton was slightly embarrassed but gathered himself.
— Yes, you’re right, — he began, deciding to get straight to the point. — I wanted to talk to you honestly, as to close people. About me and Lika. Our common future. In my opinion, every family should start with a solid foundation. And the foundation is your own housing.
He paused, waiting for a reaction. It remained cold.
— For a comfortable life, so children grow up in normal conditions, we need a good three-room apartment. Preferably in the center — it’s more convenient and prestigious. Of course, it requires investment, but it’s for your daughter’s sake, your peace of mind. So you know: she is secured, settled. Is that bad?
Irina Pavlovna cleared her throat slightly. Viktor Semyonovich slowly rubbed his chin.
— So you want us to buy you and Lika an apartment in the center? — he asked quietly but firmly. — This is your “solid foundation”?
— Basically, yes, — Anton nodded, feeling more confident. — I’m not just for myself. It’s for the whole family. And believe me, this is customary. Especially if it’s possible. You can. We would ourselves, of course, eventually… but it would take years of deprivation. And so — a normal life right away.
Lika couldn’t hold back:
— Anton, do you even understand what you’re saying?! You came to my parents to demand an apartment from them, hiding behind concern for me? This is not help — it’s arrogance!
— Lika, don’t interrupt when adults are talking, — he cut her off, not even looking at her.
But now Viktor Semyonovich stopped him:
— Anton, — he said clearly and firmly, — there is a big difference between help and consumer attitude. Help is when it’s offered, when it’s really needed and feasible. What you’re asking is an attempt to use us. My daughter is not an object to be “arranged” with the purchase of an apartment. She is an independent person.
— Yes, Anton, — supported her husband Irina Pavlovna, her voice trembling with disappointment. — We have always been ready to help Lika if she asked. But your demands… they showed us a completely different person. We thought you loved our daughter. Not her status or opportunities.
Anton’s face slowly reddened, as if all the resentment and anger poured into him at once. He realized his idea failed not just badly — it ended in disgraceful collapse. He couldn’t convince Lika’s parents; rather, he ruined everything completely.
— What nonsense are you talking about?! — he raised his voice, forgetting everything, even his intention to be calm and convincing. — What dowry? I’m thinking about the family! About stability! And you, you’re stingy? To buy an apartment for your daughter is stinginess? Or you just don’t want her to be happy with me? Maybe you’re against our wedding altogether?
The scandal that started in the café now gained new momentum right in the parents’ living room. The air grew heavy with tension, and the meeting’s finale promised to be even more tragic.
— Do you even hear yourselves?! — Anton’s voice cracked, turning into an unpleasant, almost hysterical tone. His face was covered with red spots from anger. The image of a reasonable and responsible fiancé melted without a trace, revealing the true essence — a vain, petty man. — What dowry? I’m thinking about me and Lika! About her future, about stability! And you? You just don’t want to help? Is it stinginess towards your own family? Or are you so impatient that we’re not together? Maybe you were against our marriage from the start, and now you just found an excuse to destroy everything?!
Lika, who had silently been watching from a little distance, took a decisive step forward. Now she looked at Anton not with fury but with cold bewilderment — as if seeing him for the first time. Every word, every gesture seemed to her a pathetic parody of the person she was going to link her life with. This thought hurt her, but at the same time, somehow relieved — as if a heavy burden she had carried too long had fallen from her shoulders.
— Enough, Anton, — her voice was firm and calm, cutting through his hysteria. In the brief pause, these words sounded especially weighty. — Let’s end this show. Apparently, everyone now sees who you really are. And you know, I’m even thankful to you for this honesty. Better now than later.
She paused a bit, glanced at her parents who silently supported her, and again addressed Anton, still full of rage but clearly losing control of the situation.
— So. No talk of an apartment. Moreover, no wedding either. You can safely consider our “future” a closed project. And forget not only about the apartment but about me as well.
It was as if he had been hit. For several seconds, he just sat blinking, unable to comprehend what he had heard. His plans, his ideas of an easy life at others’ expense — all collapsed in an instant. The shock was so strong he lost the power of speech. But only for a moment.
— What?! — he shouted, forgetting all rules of decency. — Are you crazy?! To ruin everything over some apartment?! You’re just a spoiled girl raised in a greenhouse, knowing nothing about real life! I worked hard for you, thought about us, and you… You’ll regret this, Lika! You’ll regret it very much! Who will want you with such whims and such a family?!
He glanced at Viktor Semyonovich and Irina Pavlovna, full of hatred.
— And you too! You’re to blame for everything! You turned her against me, ruined everything! You should be glad that a man like me even paid attention to your daughter! And you? You’re just afraid to lose control! Afraid she’ll leave, and you won’t be able to manage her anymore!
Viktor Semyonovich slowly stood up. His face was impassive, but his eyes burned with icy fire. He didn’t shout, but his quiet, confident tone was stronger than any scandal.
— Anton, — he said calmly but with undisputed authority, — it’s time for you to leave. Right now. And don’t come back. The conversation is over. Forever.
He took a step forward, and Anton instinctively stepped back. Before him stood true masculine strength — not noisy, not aggressive, but one that does not tolerate objections.
— To hell with all of you! — Anton cursed, nearly reaching the hallway. He grabbed his jacket, which he hadn’t taken off, and started hastily putting it on. — Keep your principles and your housing! And I’ll find someone a hundred times better! Someone who will appreciate and understand what a real man wants! And you, Lika, — he added angrily over his shoulder, — will cry and bite your elbows later, but it’ll be too late!
He slammed the door open and rushed into the stairwell. Behind him the door closed not with a bang but quietly and decisively — Viktor Semyonovich himself shut it, signaling that it was over between them.
A strange calm settled in the house. Not heavy, not tense — just empty. As if the air had cleared of a foreign, unwanted presence. Lika stood in the middle of the room, feeling the tension that had bound her all evening slowly release. She looked at her mom and dad. Irina Pavlovna came up and hugged her daughter. Viktor Semyonovich walked to the window, followed Anton’s retreating figure with his gaze, and sighed heavily.
— Well, that’s all, — Irina Pavlovna said quietly, stroking Lika’s hair. — Everything turned out for the best, even if through such a trial.
Lika nodded. Her soul was empty, but inside a new understanding was born: sometimes you have to lose one thing not to lose yourself. The scandal was over. Their paths had finally parted, leaving behind not only pain but also bright clarity — she had chosen correctly.