Nina pressed the ring of keys to her chest and smiled so wide her cheeks hurt. The two-room apartment in a new building finally belonged to her. No loans, no debts—just the result of her own work and persistence.
“Congratulations on your purchase!” the agency manager handed over the papers. “Wishing you a smooth move-in.”
Nina nodded, not trusting her voice. Joy swelled in her chest so much she wanted to shout with happiness.
In the empty apartment, every step echoed. Nina slowly walked through the rooms, planning the future renovation. The walls needed fresh paint, the floors—laminate, and the kitchen a complete makeover.
“We’ll start small,” Nina whispered, taking a notebook from her bag.
The next few weeks flew by in a pleasant bustle. Nina picked out tiles for the bathroom, studied furniture catalogs, and argued with salespeople about paint shades. Soft beige for the bedroom, light blue for the living room—each color reflected her dreams of a future home.
“This sofa would be perfect,” Nina mused aloud, flipping through a catalog.
The store clerks got used to her pickiness. Nina was in no hurry—the apartment had to be perfect.
At the bank where Nina worked, her colleagues watched her transformation with interest. Her eyes shone, her stride grew more confident, and a smile rarely left her face.
“Nina, this cake is delicious!” Svetlana exclaimed, taking a bite. “What’s the occasion?”
“I finished the renovation,” Nina replied proudly, pouring tea into cups. “Now I can live in peace without the construction mess.”
“Oh, congratulations!” Svetlana clapped her hands. “By the way, Petya wants to meet you. He works in my department. Would you agree to go out with him?”
Nina hesitated for a moment. Her personal life had long taken a back seat because of work and buying the apartment. But now that her main goal was achieved…
“All right,” Nina nodded. “Why not.”
Six months flew by unnoticed. Petya turned out to be a kind and attentive man. Their relationship developed naturally and harmoniously. First dates, then Petya moved into Nina’s apartment, then a proposal. The wedding was modest but very heartfelt.
After the honeymoon, the mother-in-law, Galina Ivanovna, came to see the newlyweds. She looked over the apartment with an air of expertise, nodding gravely.
“Not a bad setup,” the mother-in-law concluded, settling at the kitchen table.
Nina brewed tea and set out some cookies, trying to make a good impression.
“As a rule, our family has traditions,” Galina Ivanovna began, stirring sugar in her cup. “Children should live in their parents’ home. Care for them, help them, and obey their elders.”
Nina let out a nervous laugh, trying to steer the conversation into a joking vein.
“We’re still young, Galina Ivanovna. We’d like to live for ourselves a bit, set up our own household.”
The mother-in-law shook her head disapprovingly and clicked her tongue.
“Youth is not an excuse to shirk family duties,” Galina Ivanovna cut her off, rising from the table.
Unhappy, she headed for the door, leaving a heavy atmosphere behind. Nina saw her out. How could a single sentence ruin the mood so completely?
Nina closed the door and leaned her back against it. The weight of the conversation pressed on her shoulders. Petya snorted and pivoted on his heel.
“You shouldn’t have spoken to my mom like that,” Petya said as he walked into the living room. “She’s right about a lot of things.”
Nina followed her husband, watching him settle into an armchair.
“She herself lived in my father’s parents’ house,” Petya went on irritably. “That’s how it’s done in our family.”
“Petya, times have changed,” Nina objected, sitting on the sofa opposite him. “Young couples are happier when no one’s controlling their every step.”
Petya waved a hand with the air of someone tired of pointless arguments.
“We’ll talk later,” he muttered, getting up. “I’ve got something to finish on the computer.”
Nina was left alone in the living room. The upset grew stronger and stronger. Their first marital conflict hurt more than she’d expected.
A week passed in tense silence. Petya avoided serious conversations, and Nina tried to make sense of what was happening to their relationship. On Saturday morning she was baking a pie in the kitchen when her husband walked in.
“Mom wants to apologize in her own way,” Petya said unexpectedly, taking a glass from the cupboard. “She bought us vouchers to a sanatorium for ten days.”
Nina turned from the oven, wiping her hands on a dish towel.
“Seriously?” joy filled her voice. “So the conflict is over?”
“Mom is doing this for us,” Petya nodded, pouring water. “Will you agree to go?”
“Of course I will!” Nina exclaimed, hugging her husband. “A rest is exactly what we need.”
Ten days at the sanatorium flew by surprisingly fast. Massages, the pool, walks around the grounds—everything worked toward reconciliation. Petya again became attentive and affectionate, and Nina forgot their recent disagreements. In the evenings the couple strolled through the park, made plans for the future, and dreamed of children.
The train swayed gently, carrying them home. Nina looked out the window at the flashing landscapes, savoring the thought of returning to her own place.
At the station, Petya grabbed their bags and headed for the exit. He stopped at the doors.
“Let’s stop by my mom’s first. Thank her for the vouchers.”
Nina shook her head, adjusting her purse on her shoulder.
“We will, but a bit later,” she answered firmly. “Let’s go home first to change and freshen up after the trip.”
“But Mom’s waiting for us,” Petya insisted, grabbing his wife by the elbow. “It’s better to go right now.”
“Petya, I need to pull myself together,” Nina pulled free and raised her hand to hail a taxi. “Then we’ll definitely go to Galina Ivanovna’s.”
Her husband pressed his lips together, but he got into the arriving car without a word.
At their building, Nina climbed the steps, anticipating the comfort of her own walls. The key turned easily in the lock, the door opened. And Nina froze on the threshold.
There were strangers’ slippers in the entryway. Voices drifted from the kitchen. A woman’s laugh, a child’s babble, a man’s deep voice. Nina stepped forward and saw them—a family of strangers sitting at her kitchen table.
They stared at one another in utter shock. Time seemed to stop.
“What is going on here?” Nina’s voice trembled with disbelief. “Who gave you permission to enter my apartment?”
The unfamiliar woman holding a child looked at Nina in confusion. The man rose from the table, clearly embarrassed.
Nina turned to Petya, expecting an explanation. Her husband stood behind her, intently typing on his phone. There wasn’t a trace of surprise on his face. A chill ran down Nina’s spine.
The sound of the elevator doors opening made everyone turn. Into the hallway walked Galina Ivanovna, looking like someone in complete control.
“A small misunderstanding,” the mother-in-law said calmly, nodding to the strangers in the apartment.
Galina Ivanovna grabbed Nina by the elbow and dragged her toward the building entrance.
Out on the street, Nina wrenched herself free.
“Let me go! Explain what’s happening right now!”
Rage flooded her chest. Her hands shook with indignation.
Adjusting her handbag, the mother-in-law answered coolly:
“I rented out your apartment. For six months in advance.”
Nina couldn’t believe what she’d heard.
“How did you get into my apartment?”
“My son gave me the keys.”
Nina turned to Petya, who stood silently nearby.
“Petya, is that true?” despair rang in Nina’s voice. “You gave her my keys?”
Petya lowered his eyes, unable to meet his wife’s gaze.
“He did the right thing,” Galina Ivanovna cut in, shielding her son. “The young couple should live with the husband’s parents. This way you simply won’t have any choice.”
Nina stared at her mother-in-law, unable to believe what was happening. The world seemed to flip upside down.
“And the money will go to the family,” Galina Ivanovna went on with a satisfied smile. “I already know how I’ll use it.”
Shock gave way to fury. Nina turned and strode quickly away from the entrance. Shouts sounded behind her, someone tried to stop her, but she raised her hand to hail a taxi.
“Nina, come back!” Petya called. “Let’s talk calmly!”
Nina got into the car and slammed the door.
At her mother’s, Nina told the whole story through tears. Yelena Pavlovna shook her head as she listened.
“I can’t believe people can be so brazen and cruel,” her mother said sorrowfully, hugging Nina. “How dare they!”
“Mom, what am I supposed to do now?” Nina sobbed, leaning on her mother’s shoulder.
“I know a lawyer,” Yelena Pavlovna said thoughtfully. “A friend’s son. Smart guy—he’ll definitely help.”
Three months of court proceedings ended in a complete victory. Nina stood on the courthouse steps, holding the divorce decree. Petya was ordered to pay her three hundred thousand rubles—compensation for the unlawful use of the property.
Galina Ivanovna stood behind Nina, screaming without pause:
“You ruined my son’s life! Worthless and useless!”
Nina turned and looked at her former mother-in-law with cool composure.
“Ruined it? You’re the one who ruined your own son’s life by raising a traitor.”
“How dare you!” Galina Ivanovna shrieked, stepping forward. “We only wanted what was best for the family!”
“The best?” Nina laughed bitterly. “You stole my apartment and thought I’d just accept it? Now your precious boy is left without a wife and without money.”
The mother-in-law clenched her fists and hissed:
“You know nothing about a normal family life!”
Nina started down the steps. Over her shoulder she threw:
“I just don’t live by medieval rules. And I will never be a slave in someone else’s family.”
Pleased with herself, she headed for the exit. The past was behind her.