Yana stood in the middle of the empty apartment where her grandmother’s furniture had still been yesterday, feeling a strange mix of sadness and excitement. The sale agreement lay on the windowsill, and the new buyers would pick up the keys tomorrow. One and a half million rubles. Not much by Moscow standards, but enough to make her dream come true.
“Pavel, I’ve decided,” Yana said to her husband when he came home from work. “I’m selling Grandma’s apartment and buying a house.”
Pavel raised his eyebrows and put down his phone.
“A house? Seriously? Where?”
“In the Moscow suburbs. An hour’s drive from the center. The plot is small, but the house is sturdy. Two stories, three bedrooms, kitchen-living room. Can you imagine? Finally not living in this cramped box.”
Yana gestured toward the walls of their two-room apartment. Pavel nodded, but there was something vague in his eyes.
“All right, if that’s what you want. But will the money from selling the apartment be enough?”
“Not quite. I’ll have to take a mortgage for the remaining amount. I’m short by 1.2 million.”
“A mortgage…” Pavel rubbed his forehead. “That’s a loan for twenty years.”
“But it will be our own house. We’ll manage.”
Yana came over to Pavel and put her hand on his shoulder. He covered her palm with his.
“If that’s what you want, then let’s do it. I support you.”
The words sounded right, but Yana noticed Pavel avoided looking into her eyes. Well, men always react this way to big expenses. He’d get used to it.
A month later, the deal was done. Yana signed the last document at the bank, received the keys, and exhaled. The house was hers. Or rather, theirs, but registered under her name since she was the initiator of the purchase and made the down payment.
“Congratulations,” Pavel said as they stood at the doorstep of the new house. “Now you’re a homeowner.”
“We are,” Yana corrected. “We’re homeowners.”
Pavel smiled, but again that sideways glance. Yana decided not to pay attention. Moving was stressful for everyone.
The next day Pavel went to work, and Yana stayed to unpack boxes. The house seemed huge after their cramped apartment. Every sound echoed, but it was wonderful. Freedom, space, the chance to finally breathe deeply.
In the evening, Pavel came home earlier than usual.
“How’s the setup going?”
“Slowly. The furniture will arrive tomorrow.” Yana wiped dust off her hands. “By the way, Mom called. She wants to come see the house.”
“All right. Let her come.”
Yana nodded and went to the kitchen to prepare dinner. Pavel took his phone and dialed.
“Mom, it’s me. Yes, we moved. The house is nice, spacious. Three bedrooms, big kitchen… No, of course, it’s a shared home. We’re family… Yes, of course, come visit. Plenty of space.”
Yana listened to her husband’s conversation. Something about his tone made her uneasy. Too cheerful, too friendly.
“Tell Lena too. Let her come with the kids, there’s enough room for everyone.”
Yana frowned. Lena was Pavel’s sister. The kids were her nephews, two boys aged seven and nine. Energetic, loud, loving to run and shout.
“Pavel,” Yana called when he finished the call. “Did you tell Mom something about it being a shared house?”
“Well, yes. So what?”
“How is it ‘shared’? I bought the house. The mortgage is in my name.”
“But we’re husband and wife. Our family lives in the house, so it’s a family home.”
Yana put a pot on the stove and turned back to Pavel.
“Pavel, I put my grandmother’s inheritance into this house, plus the mortgage is in my name. Legally, the house is mine.”
“So what? We’re not planning to divorce, right?” Pavel laughed. “Why all these formalities?”
“It’s not about divorce. It’s about me not wanting to turn our home into a communal apartment for all your relatives.”
Pavel’s face changed.
“My relatives are your relatives. Or did you forget?”
“I didn’t forget. But that doesn’t mean I’m willing to support them all.”
“No one said anything about supporting. Just occasional guests.”
“How often is ‘occasional’?”
Pavel shrugged.
“I don’t know. Depends on the circumstances.”
Yana felt the tension rising in her chest. Such conversations hadn’t happened before because in a two-room apartment you can’t really host a crowd. But now, with more space, Pavel clearly saw possibilities Yana hadn’t planned for.
The next day, after Pavel left for work, Yana got a call from her mother-in-law.
“Yanechka, how’s it going in the new house?”
“Thank you, Galina Petrovna, all good. Slowly settling in.”
“Pavel said you have three bedrooms there. Lots of space.”
“Yes, the house is spacious.”
“That’s good. You were cramped in the apartment, nowhere to host guests. Now you can stay longer if needed.”
Yana squeezed the phone tighter.
“Stay longer?”
“Well, if someone in the family has housing problems. Or just wants to visit for a week or two. The house is big, there’s room for everyone.”
“Galina Petrovna, I bought the house. With my own money.”
“Of course, dear. But Pavel is my son. Where the son is, there’s a place for the mother.”
Yana closed her eyes. The conversation was taking a dangerous turn.
“Galina Petrovna, we are always happy to see relatives as guests. But as guests, not permanently.”
“Oh, who’s talking about permanently? Just knowing there’s a place to come if needed. Family, you know.”
After the call, Yana sat on the sofa trying to sort her thoughts. Clearly, there was a gulf between her understanding of the situation and that of Pavel’s family. Pavel spoke of the house as joint family property. The mother-in-law was already planning visits with the prospect of long stays.
In the evening, when Pavel returned, Yana decided to talk straight.
“My mother-in-law called today. She said that if necessary, the family could live with us.”
“And what’s wrong with that?”
“Pavel, I’m not going to turn our home into a dormitory.”
“You won’t turn it into a dormitory. Sometimes relatives might come.”
“Sometimes is good. But your mom talked about staying a week or two.”
Pavel waved his hand.
“Mom likes to talk. Don’t take it too personally.”
“I take personally what concerns my house.”
“Our house,” Pavel corrected.
“My house,” Yana said firmly. “I bought it. I pay the mortgage. I decide who and for how long can live here.”
Pavel frowned.
“You know, Yana, I don’t like this way of putting it. We’re family. Everything should be shared.”
“All right. Then you can register half the mortgage, and pay half the installments.”
“I already spend money on the family.”
“That’s not the same. Either you help pay the loan, or you don’t get to decide about the house.”
Pavel got up and paced the room.
“I don’t understand why you’re so opposed to my family.”
“I’m not against your family. I’m against my house becoming a thoroughfare.”
“Your house, your house…” Pavel stopped and looked at his wife. “Aren’t we husband and wife?”
“Husband and wife. But that doesn’t mean I have to give up ownership of what I bought myself.”
The conversation reached a dead end. Pavel went to watch TV, and Yana stayed washing dishes, thinking how quickly things had changed. Only a week in the new house, and problems had already arisen that didn’t exist before.
The next day, Yana decided to go to a garden center for plants for the yard. Gardening always calmed her and helped clear her mind. When she returned with purchases, she saw a familiar car in the yard.
“Lena’s here,” Pavel said, coming out of the house. “With the kids.”
Yana nodded and took bags with seedlings from the car. Her sister-in-law appeared on the porch holding the younger son’s hand.
“Yana, hi! Finally came to see your house.”
“Hi, Lena. How are you?”
“All good. The house is beautiful, spacious. You’re lucky.”
“Thank you.”
Yana entered the house and saw the older nephew exploring the second floor. His footsteps echoed throughout the house.
“Tim, don’t run inside!” Lena shouted but not too strictly.
“Let him run,” Pavel said. “There’s plenty of room.”
During tea, Lena talked about her affairs, and the kids ran around exploring every corner. Yana half-listened, watching how the boys made themselves at home.
“You have three bedrooms, right?” Lena asked.
“Yes, three.”
“Wow. Our apartment has two rooms; it’s cramped with kids. Here it’s so spacious.”
“Yes, plenty of room,” Pavel agreed.
“Good to have somewhere to come if needed,” Lena continued. “If we start renovations or something, we could stay for a while.”
Yana put her cup down a bit harder than planned.
“Lena, this is not a hotel. Visiting is one thing, living here is another…”
“I’m not talking about living permanently. Just if circumstances force it. Family should help each other.”
“Of course,” Pavel supported. “The house is big, there’s room for everyone.”
Yana looked at her husband. Again that phrase about room for everyone. It was clear Pavel had already let the relatives know: the house was open for them anytime.
“Mom is thrilled with your house too,” Lena added. “Says she can finally see the grandchildren more often.”
“More often?”
“Well, before there was no space in the apartment. Now they can come for a week or two. The kids will be delighted.”
Yana felt her heart race. The picture was becoming clear. Pavel had told the family about the house in a way that made them think it was joint family property open to all.
After Lena left with the kids, Yana decided to talk to Pavel again.
“What did you tell them about the house?”
“What did I tell?”
“Lena spoke as if she could come live here anytime. Your mother hinted at long visits too.”
“I just said we have a big house now. Plenty of space.”
“And that it’s a shared house?”
“Well, yes. Isn’t it?”
Yana got up and walked to the window. Outside was a small garden she planned to arrange. Now she was thinking about how to protect her house from invasion.
“Pavel, I bought the house. I pay the mortgage. I make decisions about the house.”
“Yana, we discussed this…”
“We didn’t discuss. You just decided you could dispose of my property.”
“My property?” Pavel turned to his wife. “We’re husband and wife, or am I missing something?”
“You are. But that doesn’t give you the right to invite relatives to live in my house without my consent.”
“I didn’t invite anyone to live. I just said they could count on our support if needed.”
“Our support is helping with money, finding solutions. But not turning our house into a communal apartment.”
Pavel fell silent. Yana saw that the conversation annoyed him, but she wasn’t going to back down. Too much had been invested in this house to allow someone else to manage it without her consent.
“All right,” Pavel finally said. “But if something happens to my family, I won’t be able to refuse them.”
“If something happens, we’ll discuss it. Together. And make a decision. Together.”
“Agreed.”
Yana nodded but felt the problem wasn’t solved. Pavel agreed too easily. Either he didn’t take her seriously or already had a plan to circumvent the agreement.
A few more days passed. Yana gradually settled the house, planted flowers, got used to the new life. But the peace was deceptive. Pavel continued communicating with his family, and from fragments of conversations Yana overheard, it was clear relatives considered the house open to them.
Then the thing Yana feared most happened. On Friday evening, while the couple sat at dinner, there was a knock at the door. Yana opened it and saw her mother-in-law with two suitcases.
“Hello, dear. I’ve come to stay for a while.”
Galina Petrovna entered the house without waiting for an invitation. Pavel jumped up and hugged his mother.
“Mom, we didn’t know you were coming.”
“Decided suddenly. Missed the family. Also wanted to see how you settled in.”
The mother-in-law looked around as if evaluating the property.
“You have a nice place here. Spacious. Will this room do?” She nodded toward the guest bedroom.
“Of course, Mom. Make yourself at home.”
Yana stood in the doorway, watching as her mother-in-law unpacked. Lots of things. Clearly not for just a day or two.
“Galina Petrovna, how long are you staying?”
“A couple of weeks, maybe three. Maybe more. We’ll see how it goes.”
Yana felt tension rise from her stomach to her throat. Two or three weeks would turn into months, and then the mother-in-law would simply stay to live here.
“Mom, what happened? Why so sudden?” Pavel asked.
“The neighbors started renovations. Noise from morning to evening. Decided to move here for a while. It’s quiet here.”
Yana exchanged a look with Pavel. The neighbors’ renovation was a convenient excuse. But even if true, no one asked the homeowner for permission.
The next day things got worse. Around noon Lena’s car appeared in the yard. The sister-in-law got out holding her younger son’s hand and carrying a bag.
“Hello everyone!” Lena called, entering the house. “We’ll stay a couple of days.”
“What happened?” Yana asked.
“Our pipe burst. The apartment is flooded. While we deal with the neighbors and insurance, we need somewhere to live.”
“Of course, stay as long as you want,” Pavel said. “There’s enough space for everyone.”
Yana closed her eyes. Again that phrase about space for everyone. The house was turning into a branch of a communal apartment.
“Where’s the older son?” the mother-in-law asked.
“Tim stayed with his dad. Alexander said he can handle one kid. Denis is easier for me.”
Seven-year-old Denis was already running around the house exploring. The voices increased; so did the noise.
“Lena, how long will you stay?” Yana asked cautiously.
“Who knows. Maybe a week, maybe two. Until the apartment is fixed.”
By evening, the house was filled with foreign voices, foreign things, foreign habits. Galina Petrovna took over the TV in the living room, Lena settled in the kitchen with her son, Pavel ran around trying to please everyone.
“Yana, do you have baby food?” Lena asked.
“No. We’re not planning children yet.”
“We’ll have to buy some. Denis misses his toys.”
“Yana, dear, can you turn up the TV? It’s hard to hear,” called Galina Petrovna from the living room.
“Yana, where’s your vacuum cleaner?” Lena shouted. “Denis spilled cookies.”
Yana stood in the middle of her own house, feeling it stop being hers. Every item, every corner demanded attention—not to make a life for her and her husband, but to serve the needs of strangers.
On the third day, Yana woke up to a child’s crying. Denis was fussy, demanding his mother’s attention. Lena was calming the boy, but the sounds carried throughout the house.
“Quiet, Denis, Aunt Yana is still sleeping,” Lena whispered, though the whisper was loud.
Yana went down to the kitchen and saw a scene: mother-in-law cooking breakfast using all the dishes, Lena feeding the child, crumbs scattered on the table, Pavel reading the newspaper as if nothing was happening.
“Good morning,” Yana said.
“Good morning, dear. I made porridge. Want some?” Galina Petrovna offered.
“Thanks, I’ll eat on my own.”
Yana opened the fridge and found half the groceries gone. The milk she bought yesterday was finished. The bread too.
“Galina Petrovna, where’s the food?”
“We had breakfast. I thought you wouldn’t mind.”
“Of course not. Just should have told me. I would have bought more.”
“Oh, don’t worry. Pavel will go to the store and buy more.”
Yana looked at her husband. Pavel nodded without looking up from his paper.
“I’ll go after work.”
“Pavel, can’t you see there’s no food? Go now.”
“I’ll be late for work.”
“And I’m supposed to go shopping instead of you? It’s your relatives eating our food.”
“Our food,” Pavel corrected. “We’re family.”
“Family living in my house with my money.”
Silence fell in the kitchen. Galina Petrovna and Lena exchanged glances.
“Yana, what’s wrong with you?” the mother-in-law asked. “You weren’t like this before.”
“I didn’t have my own house before that was turned into a dormitory.”
“We’re not here forever,” Lena said. “Just while we solve problems.”
“Your problems shouldn’t become mine.”
Yana left the kitchen and went to the bedroom. She needed to collect her thoughts. The situation was spiraling out of control. The house she bought as a peaceful place for her and her husband was becoming a thoroughfare for everyone.
In the evening, when everyone gathered for dinner, Yana decided to speak frankly.
“I need to say something to everyone here.”
“What happened?” Pavel asked.
“I bought this house for us. Spent my grandmother’s inheritance, took out a mortgage. It’s my house.”
“Yana, what does that have to do with anything?” Galina Petrovna began.
“That I didn’t buy a dormitory. I bought a house for a family of two.”
“But we’re family,” Lena said. “Aren’t relatives supposed to support each other?”
“Support means helping with advice, money, finding solutions. Not moving in to live in someone else’s house.”
“Someone else’s?” Galina Petrovna raised an eyebrow. “But my son lives here.”
“Your son lives in my house because I brought him here. The house belongs to me, I pay for it, I make the decisions.”
“Yana, you’re speaking too harshly,” Pavel intervened.
“Pavel, I’m speaking the truth everyone seems to have forgotten.”
Yana stood up and looked at everyone present.
“I give you all three days to solve your housing problems. In three days, I want to see only my husband in this house.”
“Yana!” the mother-in-law protested. “You can’t kick out family!”
“I can. Because it’s my house. I bought it alone — and only we will live here. Without your mother, sister-in-law, and nephews.”
“Nephew,” Lena corrected. “Denis is a boy.”
“No nephew either.”
Yana left the table and went to the bedroom. Her heart was pounding, but the decision was final. No more concessions, no compromises.
An hour later Pavel approached the bedroom.
“Yana, open the door.”
“The door’s not locked.”
Pavel entered and sat on the bed.
“Are you serious?”
“Absolutely serious.”
“This is my family.”
“It’s my family too. But the house is mine. And I set the rules here.”
“Yana, we discussed this…”
“We discussed guests, not permanent residents.”
“They’re not permanent.”
“Galina Petrovna came for two to three weeks, maybe more. Lena for one or two weeks. These aren’t guests, these are tenants.”
Pavel was silent. Yana saw he was trying to find arguments but understood there were none.
“All right,” Pavel finally said. “But how do I tell them?”
“Tell the truth. That the house was bought by your wife, and she decided enough is enough with turning it into a dormitory.”
“They’ll be offended.”
“Let them be. I’m offended too that my house was taken over without my consent.”
The next day, the atmosphere in the house was tense. Galina Petrovna and Lena whispered, casting meaningful glances at Yana. Pavel avoided looking his wife in the eyes.
“Yana, maybe we should think about it some more?” Lena asked at lunch. “I really have nowhere to go.”
“Lena, you have a husband and your own apartment. Even if there are problems, they can be solved.”
“But it’s family. Doesn’t family have to support each other?”
“Yes. But support doesn’t mean taking over someone else’s home.”
“Then I should get ready to leave,” Galina Petrovna said. “Clearly, I’m not needed here.”
“You’re not unwanted. But you can’t live here permanently.”
“Understood. I’ll know now that the wife is more important than the mother.”
“The mother is important. But my house is my house.”
On the evening of the third day, Yana went down to the living room where the whole family had gathered.
“Time’s up,” Yana said. “I expect everyone on the road tomorrow morning.”
“Yana, this isn’t right,” Pavel began.
“It is right. I bought the house for us. Not for your whole family.”
“But where else can we go?” Lena asked.
“To your apartment. To your husband. To your parents. To friends. There are many options.”
“What if I don’t leave?” Galina Petrovna asked.
Yana went to the dresser and took the house keys.
“Then tomorrow morning I’ll change the locks. The keys stay with me. I make the decisions about the house.”
“Yana!” Pavel protested.
“Pavel, you can stay or go with them. Your choice. But the house stays mine.”
Galina Petrovna got up and silently started packing. Lena followed her. Pavel sat on the couch staring at the floor.
“Are you really ready to break up the family over a house?” the husband asked.
“I’m ready to protect what I bought with my own money. You’re breaking up the family by turning my house into a dormitory.”
The next morning, two cars were in the yard. Galina Petrovna and Lena were loading their things. Denis cried, not understanding why he had to leave the big house.
“Pavel, are you coming with us or staying?” the mother asked.
Pavel looked at his wife, then at his mother.
“I’m staying. But this is wrong, Yana.”
“It’s right,” Yana replied. “I bought the house alone — and only we will live here. Without your mother, sister-in-law, or nephew.”
The cars left. Yana stood on the porch of her house and finally felt the house belonged to her again. Silence, peace, her own space. What she bought the house for.
Pavel walked past without a word. She would have to rebuild the relationship with her husband. But the house remained her house. And that was the main thing.