Lena stood by the window of her two-room apartment, looking out at the familiar yard where an old linden tree grew. Her mother used to say that when Lena was little, they would gather yellow leaves together under that tree. Now her mother was gone, but the apartment remained — the only thing that connected the daughter to her past life.
“Lenochka, why are you standing there frozen?” The voice of her mother-in-law, Tamara Ivanovna, cut through the silence. “Come to the table, the tea is getting cold.”
Lena sighed and turned around. Her mother-in-law was sitting on the couch next to Andrey, her husband, quietly saying something to him. When she saw Lena, the woman smiled that special smile she reserved for important conversations.
“Sit down, dear. Andrey and I were just discussing your future.”
Lena sat down in the armchair opposite them, instinctively sensing a trap. When Tamara Ivanovna started talking about “the future,” it usually meant she had already made all the decisions for them.
“You see, Lenusya,” the mother-in-law continued, pouring tea into cups, “a young family should grow and develop. You’ve been married two years already, and still no children. But when they do come — and they definitely will, I’m sure of it — where will you put them? In this two-room flat?”
Andrey was silent, but Lena saw his shoulders tense. So the conversation wasn’t spontaneous.
“Mom, we haven’t planned that yet…” Lena began.
“Exactly!” interrupted Tamara Ivanovna. “You haven’t planned because you don’t have normal conditions. But I have a proposal for you.”
She put her cup on the table and leaned forward, as if about to share a state secret.
“I have a plot of land outside the city, six hundred square meters. Good one, with utilities nearby. If you sell your apartment, Lenochka, you can build a real, big house with that money. There’ll be enough room for all of us. Plenty of space for the kids, and for me, old as I am, a place to babysit grandchildren.”
Lena felt her heart beat faster. Sell the apartment? The very one where her childhood passed, where her mother taught her to cook, where her father read her fairy tales at night?
“Tamara Ivanovna, have you calculated how much that will cost? Building, I mean.”
“I have, I have!” the mother-in-law perked up. “With the money from selling your place, you could build a summer house that will blow your mind! Two-story, at least five rooms. One room for you and Andrey, one for me, separate rooms for the children, a living room, kitchen — you can even fit a sauna. Beautiful!”
Lena stole a glance at her husband. Andrey looked down, but the way he pressed his lips together made it clear: he liked the idea.
“And what if we don’t want to live outside the city?” Lena asked cautiously.
“Don’t want to?” Tamara Ivanovna even put down her cup in surprise. “How can you not want fresh air, your own garden, peace and quiet? The city is just dirt and noise. But there — bliss!”
“Mom’s right,” Andrey finally spoke. “We always dreamed of having a house. Remember how we went to look at cottage communities last year?”
“Looking is one thing, selling my home is another,” Lena said quietly.
“Your home?” Tamara Ivanovna raised her eyebrows. “Lena, dear, you’re a family. What’s ‘yours’ or ‘mine’? Everything should be shared.”
“But my parents left me this apartment…”
“So what? Is Andrey your husband or not?” The mother-in-law’s tone hardened. “If he is, then decisions should be made together. Not cling to old things.”
Lena got up and went to the kitchen under the pretext of getting cookies. Her hands trembled as she opened the cupboard. “Clinging to old things” — that’s what memories of her parents were called now?
From the other room came the muffled voice of Tamara Ivanovna:
“Andrey, you’re the man, the head of the family. Explain things to your wife. Otherwise, she’s like a child clutching her mother’s skirt.”
Lena clenched her teeth. Mother’s skirt… If only her mother were alive — she would surely know what to say.
In the evening, after the mother-in-law left, Andrey approached Lena, who was washing the dishes.
“Len, let’s think about your mom’s offer.”
“I am thinking. And the more I think, the less I like it.”
“Why?” He hugged her shoulders. “We’ll build our house, our shared home. Isn’t that great?”
“Our?” Lena turned around. “Andrey, I’m selling the apartment my parents left me, and the house is being built on your mother’s land. So it turns out I end up with nothing.”
“Nothing? You’ll have a house!”
“I’ll have a house where I live as a daughter-in-law. And what if something happens between us?”
Andrey stepped back.
“What are you talking about? What ‘something’ could happen?”
“Anything happens in life. People split up, get divorced…”
“You’re thinking about divorce?” His voice grew cold.
“I’m thinking about protecting myself. That’s normal.”
“Is it normal not to trust your husband? To think about divorce after two years of marriage?”
Lena felt something unpleasant and sticky creeping into their conversation. She tried to explain:
“Andrey, understand. The apartment is my safety net. If I sell it…”
“If you sell it, you’ll prove you trust me and my family. If you don’t — it means you consider us strangers.”
He turned and left the kitchen. Lena stayed standing at the sink, looking at her reflection in the dark window.
The next day she called Sveta, her university friend who worked as a lawyer.
“Sveta, can I meet you? I need advice.”
“Of course. I have a free slot today. Come to the café near ‘Passazh.’”
Sveta listened to the whole story without interrupting. Only the wrinkle between her eyebrows deepened.
“Lena,” she finally said, “as a lawyer, I’ll tell you: under no circumstances sell the apartment.”
“Why?”
“Because the apartment is your property acquired before marriage. It’s not part of jointly acquired property. But the house built on your mother-in-law’s land and with money from selling your apartment will legally belong to whoever the land is registered to.”
“So, to my mother-in-law?”
“Exactly. You risk ending up with no housing at all.”
“But we’re family…”
“Lena,” Sveta leaned across the table, “I’ve seen so many families fall apart who thought they were the strongest. And so many women end up homeless precisely because they trusted ‘family happiness’ more than common sense.”
“But if I refuse, Andrey might get offended…”
“And if you agree, you might end up without a roof over your head. What’s worse?”
Sveta took Lena’s hand.
“Listen to me. If Andrey truly loves you, he’ll understand your concerns. If he doesn’t… maybe you should think if he’s really the person you want to build a life with?”
That evening at home, Lena tried to talk to her husband again.
“Andrey, I saw the lawyer…”
“What lawyer?” He turned away from the TV.
“Sveta. She explained some legal points…”
“Legal points?” Andrey stood up. “Lena, are we husband and wife or business partners? What legal points between spouses?”
“The ones that protect each of us…”
“Protect from whom? From me? From my mother?”
“Andrey, why are you reacting like this? I just want to understand…”
“I understand you don’t trust me!” He raised his voice. “Two years of marriage mean nothing to you!”
“Don’t shout at me!”
“And don’t betray me! Your mother offers a better life, and you hide behind your friend’s advice!”
Lena felt a lump rise in her throat.
“I’m not betraying anyone. I just want to keep what my parents left me.”
“Parents, parents!” Andrey waved his hand. “They’re dead, Lena! And I’m alive, your husband! And if you’re not ready to be a real wife, why did we even get married?”
Those words hit harder than a slap. Lena silently turned and went to the bedroom, locking the door.
The next days passed in tense silence. Andrey left for work early, came back late. At dinner, they exchanged only necessary phrases.
Then the calls from Tamara Ivanovna began.
“Lenochka, dear, I was thinking… Maybe you think we’re forcing you? Not at all! We want what’s best.”
“Tamara Ivanovna, I understand, but…”
“But what, dear? You’re smart, educated. Don’t you see it’s good for everyone? And when you have children — where will they live? In this cramped flat?”
“We’re not planning children yet…”
“Not planning?” The mother-in-law’s voice grew concerned and surprised. “Why? Some problems? Maybe see a doctor? I know a good one…”
“No, we just decided to wait…”
“What are you saying! At your age, you can’t wait! You’re already twenty-seven, the biological clock is ticking. And Andrey dreams of children, I see that.”
After that conversation, Lena felt cornered. The pressure grew daily. Tamara Ivanovna would “accidentally” bring magazines about country houses, and Andrey would start talking about how great it would be for children to grow up in the fresh air.
“Lena,” he said one evening, “I can’t live like this anymore.”
“What do you mean ‘like this’?”
“In constant tension. You don’t want to make the decision that’s obvious to everyone but you.”
“Andrey…”
“No, listen to me. I’m a man; I have to provide for the family, plan our future. And you sabotage all my plans.”
“I’m not sabotaging. I just don’t agree to sell the apartment.”
“Then maybe we should reconsider our relationship?”
Lena froze.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, if we can’t agree on such an important issue, maybe we’re not right for each other.”
“You mean divorce?”
“I mean marriage is about compromises. And you’re not ready to compromise.”
“Why should I be the only one to compromise? Why don’t you consider my concerns?”
“That’s it,” Andrey stood up, “I’m tired of these talks. Think carefully, Lena. What’s more important to you — the apartment or the family?”
He went to his mother and came back only at night. Lena lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Had things really come this far?
The next day, while Andrey was at work, Lena decided to clean the apartment. She needed a distraction, something simple and familiar for her hands and mind.
She was vacuuming the bedroom when Andrey’s phone rang — he had left it on the nightstand. The screen showed: “Mom.”
Lena was about to put the phone back, but accidentally touched the screen and answered the call.
“Andrey!” came Tamara Ivanovna’s voice. “Oh, Andrey, you had to pick such a stubborn wife. Well, we’ll push her through. The main thing is to build the house before she completely ruins her character. And then, if anything, you can divorce. The house will stay…”
Lena stood holding the phone, feeling everything inside turn cold. So that’s it. All this was planned to get her money for building the husband’s family house.
She hung up with trembling fingers. Everything fell into place. Pressure, persuasion, threats of divorce — it was all a performance designed to squeeze the apartment from her.
She sat on the bed and tried to catch her breath. Two years of marriage, two years of sincerely trying to be part of his family, enduring mother-in-law’s nagging, tolerating her “helpful advice” and criticism. But apparently, to them, she was always an outsider — just a source of funds for their plans.
That evening, when Andrey returned, Lena met him in the kitchen.
“Your mother called,” she said calmly. “You forgot your phone at home.”
“Ah, thanks.” He took the phone. “What did she want?”
“Checking on our progress selling the apartment. By the way, I thought a lot today.”
“And what did you decide?”
“That you were right. We really should reconsider our relationship.”
Andrey grew wary.
“In what way?”
“In the way that I realized we want different things from this marriage. You want an obedient wife who will fulfill your mother’s wishes without asking questions. I want an equal partner who respects my interests.”
“Lena…”
“No, let me finish. I won’t sell the apartment. Not because I don’t trust you, but because I don’t trust your motives.”
“What motives?”
“Andrey, I don’t care if you know your mother’s plans or not. What matters is that in two years of marriage, you’ve never taken my side in conflicts with her. You always chose her.”
“She’s my mother!”
“And I’m your wife. Or was your wife.”
There was a silence.
“What do you mean?” Andrey asked quietly.
“I mean we need time to think. Separately.”
“You’re leaving?”
“I’m going to Sveta’s for a few days. I need to sort out my thoughts.”
Andrey sat at the table.
“And then?”
“Then we’ll see. If you’re ready to build a marriage as equals, without pressure from your mother, if you’re ready to respect my decisions — we can try again.”
“And if not?”
Lena took her jacket from the chair.
“If not, then it’s better to separate now, before we make bigger mistakes. Before we have children who will suffer from our conflicts.”
She approached the door, then turned back.
“You know, Andrey, I’m grateful to your mother for one thing. She helped me realize that I’m not ready to sacrifice everything for a phantom of family happiness. And it’s good I realized that now.”
The next day, Lena packed only the essentials and moved to Sveta’s. Her friend greeted her without questions — just hugged her and said:
“Come in. I’ll make a place for you on the sofa.”
“Thanks. Just for a short time.”
“Take all the time you need. The main thing is not to rush decisions.”
That evening they sat in the kitchen drinking tea, and Sveta asked:
“Do you regret it?”
“Regret what?”
“Marrying him.”
Lena thought.
“No. If I hadn’t married him, I would never have known what I’m capable of when it comes to protecting what’s dear to me. And I would never have understood that the mother’s apartment isn’t just square meters. It’s my independence, my freedom of choice.”
“And what will you do if he comes asking for forgiveness?”
“I don’t know. I’ll see what he says. But one thing I know for sure — I will never sell the apartment. Never.”
Sveta nodded.
“Right. And you know what? I’m proud of you. Not every woman can stand up to such pressure.”
“I’m just lucky to have a lawyer friend,” Lena smiled.
“It’s not about legal knowledge. It’s about you hearing your intuition through the noise of others. That’s priceless.”
“Sveta,” she said, “I could have ended up with nothing.”
“You could. But you didn’t. And that’s what matters.”
“Yes. And it’s good that Andrey and I don’t have children yet. Though his mother was rushing us…”
“Of course she was. Children guarantee that you won’t go anywhere even if you realize you’re being used.”
Lena nodded. Yes, her intuition hadn’t failed her in this matter either.
The phone rang. The screen read: “Andrey.”
“Will you answer?” Sveta asked.
“Not yet. Let him think. Just like I am.”
Lena muted the phone and placed it face down on the table.
Tomorrow she would definitely call Andrey. Hear what he had to say. Maybe even agree to meet. But she would never sell the apartment. Never.