— Sashenka just told us that behind our backs you want to buy an apartment. What do you call that? Going it alone?
— Not at all. Sasha and I want to buy a place together, in both our names. Why “going it alone”?
Sasha and Lena were twenty-four when they got married—young, in love, full of big hopes and… a small budget. They didn’t have a place of their own yet, and moving to opposite ends of the city after the wedding seemed silly. So Sasha suggested:
— We’ll live with my mom for a while. They’ve got three rooms. We’ll take one, my parents the other. It’ll be fine.
Lena had her doubts, but as everyone knows, being in love drowns out common sense. And at their first meeting, Lyudmila Ivanovna had been kind and smiling. Pastries, tea with homemade jam, warm hugs—she seemed like the perfect mother-in-law. Dmitry Anatolyevich, though a reserved man, accepted his daughter-in-law right away.
At first everything went smoothly. Lena tried not to intrude on anyone else’s space, helped with the housework, mopped the floors, cooked meals. Sometimes Lyudmila Ivanovna would take her by the arm, share family stories, and trade recipes. Sasha and Lena didn’t make noise in the evenings and always went to their room by eleven so as not to disturb his parents’ sleep or their own routines.
But six months passed, and the boundaries began to blur. Her mother-in-law started bursting into their room without knocking, rearranging things in their wardrobe while Lena and Sasha were out. She might even rewash the dishes her daughter-in-law had just washed. And Sasha kept brushing it off: “Just put up with it. They’re my parents.”
A year later, Lena began thinking about buying a place of their own. Her parents had recently sold her grandmother’s old dacha and promised to give her the proceeds to put toward an apartment.
At the same time, a month ago, over dinner, Lyudmila Ivanovna cheerfully announced:
— Marina is coming. My niece from the village. She wants to apply to college and has nowhere to live until she gets in. So she’ll crash with us for a week or two.
Sasha nodded without looking up from his plate. Lena listened in silence to her mother-in-law’s glowing descriptions of this wonderful girl. But the stories rang hollow when Marina showed up at the door with bright pink hair and full combat makeup. She had two bags with her. They put her in the living room. Marina sat on her phone all day, and it seemed she needed nothing else in life.
Lena took it in stride. A girl like any other—nothing special. The only thing that bothered her was Marina’s late-night video calls. She could chatter for hours on end, and every word carried through the thin walls of the panel building.
Recently, when Lena came home from work, she heard her mother-in-law on the phone:
— Of course, Valya! Don’t even ask! Come!
That made Lena wary. This “come” didn’t sound like an ordinary dinner invitation. And she was right. Two days later, Lyudmila Ivanovna’s sister Valentina moved into the apartment.
— This is my sister, Valentina Ivanovna, — her mother-in-law beamed, introducing her to Lena. — I couldn’t leave little Marina here all alone. So I came too.
Valentina Ivanovna turned out to be the daughter’s complete opposite—loud and boisterous. The very first night, Lena lay under the blanket with a pillow over her head while the two sisters sat in the kitchen rehashing their relatives, laughing and crying. It went on until two in the morning.
Lena woke to the harsh buzz of her alarm. It felt like she hadn’t slept at all. When she went into the kitchen, she saw Sasha drinking coffee and staring at his phone. Lena exhaled sharply and sat down beside him. Snoring came through the wall.
— There’s no air left to breathe in here, and your mother decided to squeeze in someone else? — Lena said in frustration.
— Yeah… that’s how it is… Aunt Valya is often here, — her husband tossed off.
— So often that in a whole year this is the first time.
— It’s fine. She’ll leave soon… Don’t worry, — Sasha tried to reassure his wife.
— Sure she will…
But the second, third, fourth night—everything repeated exactly. Only by now Lena wasn’t just tired; she was coming to work with dark circles and barely keeping up with her tasks. Sasha considered it a “temporary inconvenience.” He himself played tank games online at night and was cool as a cucumber.
Lena endured in silence—it wasn’t her place to lay down rules in someone else’s apartment. The one thing she could do was suggest to her husband that they move forward and buy a place. Even on a mortgage, at least it would be theirs. Sometimes she just wanted to be in her own quiet home.
She kept pushing for a purchase, and Sasha kept waving her off. He’d lived in his parents’ apartment his whole life and the new really did scare him. So Lena said she would start looking on her own.
She decided that if Sasha couldn’t take responsibility, she would. On her lunch break at work she scrolled through listings on her phone; at home, before bed, too. Tiny one-room flats on the outskirts, not much of a renovation, but within reach. There, no one would burst in without knocking or dictate the rules.
For Lena, buying an apartment was a logical next step in marriage. And one evening over tea, she told her husband plainly:
— I’ve started looking. We could buy a small one-room place in one of the older neighborhoods.
Sasha yawned and waved a hand:
— Do whatever you want. You can’t be talked out of anything anyway.
Lena said nothing. A month earlier her mother, Svetlana Viktorovna, had executed a gift deed to her daughter for the money she got from selling the old grandmother’s dacha. It was enough for a down payment.
— I have money for the down payment, — Lena said the following week, handing her husband a printout for a small apartment in a five-story building. — We’ll take the rest on a mortgage and pay it together.
Sasha was surprised:
— From where?
— My mom gave it to me. Doesn’t matter. The point is—we can do this. Enough of living like tenants.
— I don’t feel like a tenant. You’re the one with some kind of problem…
— We’re a married couple and we should do things together. Or are you planning to live with your mom till you’re old?
He didn’t know what to say, but something like approval flickered in his eyes. The news, however, didn’t stay between them for long. A few days later, when Lena was late at work, Sasha came home early and ran straight into Valentina Ivanovna, who was waiting for “fresh gossip.”
— Well, Sashenka, how’s married life? Come on, don’t be shy. While Lena’s not here, you can tell the truth, — she giggled, slapping him on the shoulder.
— Everything’s fine. It’s just that we want to buy an apartment, — he tossed off casually, not realizing what a commotion that careless phrase would cause.
— What?! — both sisters cried out at once.
— Are you out of your mind?! — Lyudmila Ivanovna clutched her heart. — Where do you think you’re going?! We’ve got everything here! A three-room apartment, electricity, water, heat! Why would you leave?! There’s loads of space! Nobody’s bothering you!
— Exactly, — Valentina Ivanovna chimed in. — And you know why your Lenka needs this? So she can dump you and in her own pad start carrying on with some other guy! Women are crafty these days. The moment they get housing—goodbye, sweetheart!
— Mom, Aunt Valya… — Sasha began, but their excited monologues, gasps, and wild conjectures drowned him out.
That evening, when Lena came home, she found a “family council” in the kitchen. All three turned to her on cue. And at that moment she knew something was off.
— Sashenka has just told us that behind our backs you want to buy an apartment. What do you call that? Going it alone?
— Not at all. Sasha and I want to buy a place together, in both our names. Why “going it alone”?
— We know your type! — barked Valentina Ivanovna. — Step over the threshold and you’ll start wagging your tail.
— I don’t see what that has to do with an apartment. And what does that have to do with me?
— Everything! — Lyudmila Ivanovna cut in. — Sashenka will be paying for your apartment while you live the easy life.
Lena realized there’d be no constructive dialogue. Calmly and firmly, she sat down at the table and folded her hands.
— I have money. I was saving even before I married your son, if you must know. And my parents helped. But if it makes you happier, I can put the apartment solely in my name—since, as I understand it, Sasha will always have somewhere to come back to.
The women were taken aback for a moment, and Sasha stepped in:
— Mom, we’ve been planning this purchase for a long time. So just be happy for us. Especially now that there really are too many people in the apartment.
— What? — Valentina Ivanovna jumped up. — Are you hinting at me and little Marina? How could you even say such nonsense!
Lena, realizing a blow-up was inevitable, stood up and went to their room to start packing, while Sasha kept trying to fend them off.
— I thought you’d all breathe a sigh of relief if we moved out. Especially since Marina didn’t get a dorm bed. And she’s got four more years of school…
At that, Valentina Ivanovna fell abruptly silent and didn’t dare say another word.
Sasha came into the room while Lena was putting her things in a bag. She didn’t even turn—she heard his steps and knew this would be another argument or a monologue about how she was complicating everything. But something unexpected happened.
— Want a hand? — he asked quietly and knelt beside her, opening the wardrobe door.
Lena frowned and looked at her husband in surprise.
— Tell me where the second bag is? — Sasha explained. — It’s just… you’re right. We need to live on our own…
— I didn’t want to leave like this, — Lena admitted. — But your relatives ganged up on me, and I felt suffocated by their pressure. So I thought we should go…
— I get it… But try to understand me, too. I’ve lived here my whole life. It seemed to me this is how it should be—everyone together, crowded, noisy, but with love. Only there’s no love left here anymore. Just resentments and little barbs. And Mom… well, she’s used to keeping everyone close. And Aunt Valya… — he grimaced. — That’s another story.
He fell silent, then added:
— I’ve been saving too. I thought I’d upgrade the car. Or we’d redo my parents’ apartment, since we live here too. But honestly—I’m ready to put the money in. Even if it’s an old building, even if the renovation’s bad, at least it would be our own place, where we don’t have to live by somebody else’s rules. Maybe I’m getting old. — Sasha laughed.
— Not old—mature. That’s different.
Lena felt she wasn’t alone. In the last half hour, her head had spun with all the worst-case scenarios. But it turned out there was a real partner next to her—a husband, not just a passive lodger in his parents’ home. Tears sprung to her eyes, but she turned away as if deciding how best to pack her books.
When Sasha stepped into the hall with a bag in his hand, a menacing silence hung in the air. Neither his mother nor Valentina Ivanovna objected anymore. They just glowered from under their brows at Sasha and Lena’s every move.
— We’re leaving. We’ll stay at friends’ dacha for a couple of weeks, — he said, — and then we’ll move into the new place.
— Don’t expect us to come to your housewarming, — muttered Lyudmila Ivanovna.
— As you wish, — Lena nodded.
When all the bags and packages were in the hall, Lena picked up a jacket that wouldn’t fit into a bag. Sasha was lacing his shoes, and it seemed that in another moment they would finally leave the apartment that had lately been more of a trial for Lena than a second home.
And then the front door flew open with a crash.
— Hi, everyone! — Marina burst in, all smiles, like a whirlwind. — Meet Maxim. He’s going to be living with me now.
Behind her came a young guy of about twenty: piercings in his brow and nose, shaved temples, a ripped denim jacket, scuffed sneakers. A gym bag hung from his shoulder, and he carried a supermarket bag in his hands.
— We’re together now, — Marina announced proudly. — Max has a problem: his parents kicked him out because he didn’t get into college. So he’ll stay with us for a while, okay?
For a second, absolute silence fell over the apartment. Lyudmila Ivanovna and Valentina Ivanovna stared at the new “guest” as if he’d just fallen from the ceiling. Their mouths hung slightly open in amazement.
Lena looked at Sasha. Then at Lyudmila Ivanovna, at Valentina Ivanovna, and finally at Marina and Maxim. She couldn’t help it—she snorted and then burst out laughing. At first softly, then louder and louder.
— Lena, what is it? — Sasha asked, bewildered.
— Nothing, — she said through her laughter. — It’s just that it looks like we’re leaving at the perfect moment.
With that, she stepped forward, walked around Marina and Maxim as if they were furniture, and decisively pulled the front door toward her. Sasha followed, nodding to his mother on the way:
— Mom, I’ll call you.
Their footsteps faded on the stairs, and four people remained in the apartment: two women of a certain age, Marina, and Maxim—who had already kicked off his shoes and headed for the kitchen as if nothing had happened.
— Got anything to eat? — he asked, rummaging in a drawer.
Lyudmila Ivanovna sank onto a stool.
— Lord, what is happening… — she whispered.
And Valentina Ivanovna just stood there, unable to get a word out.
Over the next two weeks, Lena and Sasha drove all over the city and looked at more than a dozen apartments. Some were too far out, some needed major repairs, and some made them want to run. But one place won them over at once: a cozy one-room flat in an old building with a quiet courtyard, a neat entrance, and windows overlooking a green alley. Inside—simple but clean work, new plumbing, and a bright kitchen.
They exchanged a glance the moment they stepped into the hallway. The decision made itself.
They had enough money for almost half the price—which was a relief. Lena had expected worse. They decided to take the rest on a mortgage, and as Lena put it, “better to pay the bank than suffocate under one roof with the aunties.”
While the paperwork and registration were in progress, they moved to Sasha’s friend’s dacha. It was quiet there—just forest, birds, and fresh air. The only downside was needing at least an hour to get to the city. But that was a small thing—everything would soon change.
And a month later, they moved in. The first night they slept on an air mattress, ate dumplings with ketchup, and couldn’t believe that this little apartment was now theirs.
They didn’t throw a housewarming. They simply began settling in. They bought a sofa, a shelving unit, and the necessary dishes. Lena put flowers on the windowsill, and Sasha hung hooks in the hallway.
Meanwhile, back in the old apartment, life followed its own course. Marina and Maxim took over Sasha’s room. Lyudmila Ivanovna no longer kept up with the housework because cooking now was for five. Valentina Ivanovna kept saying, “We’re only here a little while…” but the third month was already rolling by. Maxim sat in the kitchen playing guitar, and Marina streamed on TikTok for hours.
Lyudmila Ivanovna more and more often thought of her quiet, obedient daughter-in-law who made soups, did the laundry, and never left crumbs on the table. But now things were different.
And Lena, meanwhile, looked out the window in the morning and smiled at the warm new day. She knew buying the apartment had been the right decision. And even if the renovation wasn’t finished yet, even if the mortgage would last fifteen years, here they could finally breathe freely and do only what they themselves wished.