— Alena, do you remember when I told you about the promotion? Dmitry sat down on the edge of the sofa, his eyes shining with joy. — The boss almost officially confirmed it today. In a month or a month and a half, I’ll be promoted to lead engineer. Can you imagine what the salary will be?
Alena put aside the unfinished blouse and turned to her husband. After three years of marriage, she had learned to read his moods by his tone, and now Dima was on cloud nine.
— Seriously? Her voice carried cautious optimism. — How much more will they pay?
— Almost twice as much! Dmitry rubbed his palms together. — That means we can finally afford a mortgage. We’ll definitely be able to get a two-room apartment, maybe even a three-room in a decent neighborhood.
Alena stood and went to the window of their small one-room apartment. Outside the glass were gray panel buildings, between which the first spring leaves were barely breaking through on the thin trees.
— Of course, we’ll take it without repairs, Dmitry continued pondering. — But it will be our own big place. We’ll make a nursery, a proper living room…
— A nursery, Alena quietly repeated, and there was so much longing in that word. — Dima, I’m already twenty-seven. All my friends have had babies long ago, and we keep postponing and postponing.
— I understand, sweetheart. But raising a child in a studio apartment is a whole different story. Where would we put the stroller? Where the crib? And when the kid grows up — where will they play?
Alena nodded. They had discussed this topic many times and always came to the same conclusion: first housing, then children.
— Fine, she agreed. — We’ll start saving for the down payment. Just promise me — as soon as we move, we’ll have the baby.
Dmitry hugged his wife by the waist.
— I promise.
That morning, they left for work in high spirits. Alena spent the whole day thinking about the future apartment, imagining how she would arrange the furniture, what wallpaper she’d choose for the nursery. Time flew by unnoticed, and only when the bus broke down halfway home did she remember reality.
They had to switch to a minibus, then walk three stops. Alena arrived home forty minutes later than usual and froze when she saw a familiar figure at the entrance.
— Finally! The voice of Valentina Nikolaevna, her mother-in-law, cut through the evening silence like a knife. — I’ve been standing here for ten minutes! Where have you been?
— Good evening, Valentina Nikolaevna, Alena tried to smile. — The bus broke down, had to switch to a minibus, then walk…
— You always have excuses! The mother-in-law crossed her arms. — Normal wives come home for dinner, not wander around somewhere.
Alena silently took out her keys and opened the entrance door. Valentina Nikolaevna followed behind, clicking her heels on the steps and snorting disapprovingly. Once inside, she headed straight to the kitchen like an inspector on duty.
— I’ll warm something up for us now, Alena said, taking containers with leftovers from yesterday’s dinner out of the fridge.
— Look at yourself! The mother-in-law’s voice sharply rose an octave. — Grease stains on the tiles! And what’s this? She pointed to a corner. — Dust! When was the last time you cleaned here?
Alena turned on the microwave and faced her mother-in-law.
— Valentina Nikolaevna, I work five days a week. I don’t have time to clean the apartment spotless every day. I do a thorough cleaning on weekends, and Dima doesn’t complain.
— He’s too soft and obedient to complain, snorted the mother-in-law, opening the fridge. — And look at yourself! You earn peanuts, do nothing at home. You could have given me a grandchild by now! Look, Nikolay already has three kids!
Alena pressed her lips. Nikolay was Dima’s brother, who barely made ends meet. He was their mother’s favorite.
— Actually, Nikolay lives in a rented two-room apartment, and all the children cram into one room, she answered calmly, setting the plates. — Dima and I don’t want that. We want the child to have their own room, their own personal space.
— Exactly! Valentina Nikolaevna was outraged. — You only think about money! What about family? What about the future? Nikolay isn’t afraid of responsibility, he raises the children as best as he can. And you just keep saving and saving… For what? A fancy life?
The microwave beeped, and Alena took out the warmed food. Her hands trembled slightly from suppressed irritation.
— We’re saving for proper conditions for future children, she said quietly. — Dima will get the promotion soon, we’ll get a mortgage for a three-room apartment. Then we’ll have a baby.
— Uh-huh, but meanwhile, I’m not getting grandchildren! The mother-in-law sat at the table, scrutinizing the food. — And this is all you have in the fridge? A good hostess should have more choice!
— Why cook a lot if it’s just the two of us? Alena tried to keep her voice even. — We don’t like to waste food.
— Because you can’t really afford it on your pennies, the mother-in-law remarked sarcastically.
Alena remained silent. Her salary was sixty-five thousand rubles—about the same as Dima’s. But explaining this to her mother-in-law was pointless.
The sound of keys in the lock interrupted the awkward silence. Dmitry entered, tired after work.
— Mom? He looked surprised to see Valentina Nikolaevna. — What are you doing here?
— Visiting my daughter-in-law, having a heart-to-heart, the mother-in-law got up from the table. — We talked about children. When will you finally give me grandchildren?
Dmitry glanced at his wife and sat next to his mother.
— Mom, we’ve already discussed this. First, we need to solve the housing issue, then have children.
— Yeah! Valentina Nikolaevna threw up her hands. — Meanwhile, Nikolay already has three growing up! He’s not afraid of responsibility, doesn’t wait for perfect conditions!
— Nikolay always asks for money, Dmitry objected. — We want better for our child.
The mother-in-law pursed her lips in dissatisfaction.
— Always excuses. Youth passes by, and you keep waiting! She stood and headed for the door. — Think what you want, but I’m tired of waiting for grandchildren.
After she left, silence hung in the apartment. Dmitry thoughtfully stared out the window.
— Maybe mom is right? he said quietly. — Maybe we really shouldn’t postpone? Have a child first, then get the mortgage.
Alena looked at her husband in disbelief.
— Dima, we talked about this yesterday! You yourself said raising a child in a studio is inconvenient!
— Yes, but time goes on… He rubbed his temples. — Maybe it’s not so bad? Nikolay manages.
Alena didn’t understand how her husband could change his mind so drastically in one day.
A week later, the notary called. Alena’s cousin, whom she barely communicated with, had left her all her savings—ten million rubles. Alena was shocked by the amount.
Alena hadn’t yet inherited the money, but her life had already changed drastically. Valentina Nikolaevna started coming over almost every day.
— Look, you’re sitting on money! But there’s no one to spend it on! she said, settling on the sofa. — Why do you need it?
Dmitry also began to pressure her.
— Alena, now we have money. We can help my family. Since you inherited it, you can buy an apartment for my brother, he said one evening. — He has three kids and they’re cramped in rented housing. Think about family. We’ll manage somehow!
Alena slowly put down her book and looked at her husband.
— Family? There were metallic tones in her voice. — Dima, you think about your family. I think about ours. With this money, we can buy a three-room apartment. Then sell my studio, invest in renovations, and live comfortably.
— Of course! Dmitry sharply got up from the sofa. — And that apartment will also be yours, just like now! You’ll dictate terms to my mother, kick her out, pressure me!
— Dima, what’s happening to you? Alena didn’t recognize her husband. — A month ago you yourself said we needed more space!
— Mom opened my eyes to your pettiness, your greed! He pointed at her. — You want to grab all the inheritance, all the money! But we’re family, everything should be shared!
Alena stood and went to the window. Outside, autumn rain drizzled, and drops slid down the glass like tears.
— Dima, inheritance isn’t divided even in divorce, she said quietly, without turning around. — And especially not in marriage. You have no legal right to this money. And I won’t spend it on your brother.
— Do you hear yourself? Dmitry’s voice hardened. — “My money,” “your brother!” Where is “our money,” “our family?”
— Our family is you and me! Alena turned, her eyes blazing. — Not your mother and brother! Nikolay is a grown man, let him solve his housing problems himself!
— How can you say that? He has three little kids!
— And we don’t have any! Alena exclaimed. — And won’t have any while we live in this box and listen to your mother’s daily lectures!
Dmitry clenched his fists.
— So, have you decided? The money is only for you? And you don’t care about family?
— What family? Alena crossed her arms. — The one where your mother discusses and criticizes every step I take?
— Mom just wants grandchildren, that’s natural!
— Your mom wants to control our life! And it seems she’s doing a great job!
Dmitry turned to the window, his shoulders tense.
— I didn’t think you were such a selfish person, Alena.
His words pierced the silence. Alena slowly turned to him.
— Selfish? Her voice was surprisingly calm. — For not wanting to support your brother? For planning our future?
— For thinking only about yourself! Dmitry stepped toward her. — We’re family, and you behave like a stranger!
— Dima, listen to yourself! Alena spread her hands. — For three years we dreamed of our own home, of children. Now we have the chance to make it happen, and you demand we give everything to your brother!
— Aren’t you sorry for family?
— What family? Alena wearily sank onto the sofa. — Dima, when was the last time you defended me in front of your mother? When did you support my decisions?
Dmitry was silent, looking away.
— Never, she answered herself. — But now that there’s money, you suddenly all became very caring.
— That’s mean of you!
— Mean? Alena stood up. — Isn’t it mean of your mother? To accuse me every day of no grandchildren? To criticize every step I take?
Dmitry headed to the wardrobe, started packing clothes.
— You know what? Enough! I won’t listen to this! He threw shirts into the bag. — Live with your money! Maybe it will replace family for you!
— Dima, don’t go! Let’s talk calmly!
— What’s there to talk about? He turned, his eyes burning with anger. — You’ve already decided! Money is more important than your husband!
— That’s not true! I just want to build our life, not support all your relatives!
Dmitry zipped his bag and headed for the door.
— Goodbye, Alena. Enjoy your millions.
The door slammed shut loudly. Alena was left alone in the suddenly empty apartment.
The divorce was painful. Dmitry and his mother tried to claim part of the inheritance through lawyers, but all attempts failed. The law was on Alena’s side.
Now she sat in her studio, surrounded by silence. The money was in the account but brought no joy. Of course, she loved her husband. But building a family with such a person, having children, tying herself even more to him — would have been a mistake.
Alena went to the window and looked at the city. Ahead was a new life. Difficult, but honest.