Natalya walked out of the notary’s office with a folder of documents, clutching it tightly to her chest. Six months of waiting were finally over—Grandmother Yelena Nikolayevna had left her granddaughter a substantial sum in her will. A sum that could radically change the family’s life.
An autumn wind tugged at her hair; yellow leaves rustled underfoot. Natalya headed toward the bus stop, running through plans in her mind. They could finally renovate the apartment, buy new furniture for her daughter Liza’s room, set some aside for education. Maybe they could even take a family vacation—they hadn’t gone anywhere farther than the dacha in ages.
At home, Sergey met her. He stood in the hallway, leaning a shoulder against the doorframe, studying his wife intently. His expression was tense, even stern.
“Well, did you get everything done?” Sergey asked without so much as a hello.
“Yes,” Natalya nodded, taking off her jacket. “All the documents are ready. The money will hit the account within a week.”
Sergey nodded and suddenly straightened.
“You’ll transfer all the money to my mother. Don’t you dare argue—otherwise, divorce!” he snapped.
Natalya froze with her jacket in her hands. She frowned and tilted her head, looking closely at Sergey as if checking whether he was in his right mind. This was definitely not the turn of events she’d expected.
“Repeat that, please,” Natalya said slowly. “It sounded like you just said something very strange.”
“You heard me perfectly,” Sergey cut her off. “Valentina Ivanovna needs money more than we do. She’s an elderly woman, her health is failing, medication is expensive. And Irochka still doesn’t have steady work—she’s getting by on odd jobs.”
Natalya slowly hung her jacket on the hook without taking her eyes off her husband.
“And because of that I’m supposed to give the inheritance from my grandmother to your mother?” she clarified. “Seriously?”
“That’s what would be fair,” Sergey said firmly. “We’re young; we can earn more. But my mother’s time is running out. And anyway, family should help family.”
Blood rushed to Natalya’s face. She straightened up and looked him directly in the eyes.
“Divorce it is,” she said calmly.
Sergey froze, blinking. Apparently he’d counted on tears, excuses, attempts to negotiate—but not on that reaction.
“What are you doing?” he asked, flustered. “I didn’t mean anything bad. I just want everyone to be satisfied.”
“Everyone?” Natalya echoed. “And I’m not included in this ‘everyone,’ am I?”
“You know how it is…” Sergey began, but Natalya silenced him with a gesture.
“I do know. I know very well,” she said, and walked into the room.
Sergey remained standing in the hallway, clearly not understanding what had just happened. He’d expected resistance, but not such a decisive rebuff.
Natalya sat down at the desk and turned on the computer. The decision formed instantly and definitively. The inheritance was money that Grandmother Yelena Nikolayevna had left specifically to her granddaughter. Not to Sergey, not to his mother, not to his sister. To Natalya. And she alone would decide what to do with it.
While Sergey paced the apartment muttering under his breath, Natalya logged in to her online bank. She opened a new savings account in her daughter Liza’s name. In three years the girl would turn eighteen, and that money would be very useful for university.
The next day, as soon as the inheritance hit the main account, Natalya immediately transferred half the amount to her daughter’s account. She printed all the documents and confirmations and locked them in the safe. She left the other half in her own account—she would need it for current expenses and possibly for a lawyer.
Sergey found out about the transfer that evening when he opened the banking app on Natalya’s phone.
“What have you done?!” he yelled. “Where’s the money?”
“In a safe place,” Natalya answered curtly, without looking up from her book.
“I told you to transfer it all to my mother! Put it back, now!”
Natalya raised her head and looked calmly at her enraged husband.
“The funds are in our daughter’s account. It’s the best investment I could think of.”
“Liza’s still a child! She’s fifteen!” Sergey flailed his arms. “She doesn’t understand the value of money!”
“But I understand it perfectly,” Natalya replied coolly. “And I understand the value of honesty in a family even better.”
Sergey tried insisting, threatening, coaxing. But Natalya was unyielding. The money would stay where it was. Period.
The next morning, while her husband was at work, Natalya went to see a lawyer. She needed to sort out the nuances of family law and understand what Sergey could claim if they divorced.
The lawyer, a young woman named Viktoria, listened carefully.
“An inheritance received during marriage is not marital property,” Viktoria explained. “Your husband has no claim to those funds. You did absolutely the right thing by transferring the money to your daughter.”
“And if he does file for divorce?” Natalya asked.
“Whose name is on the apartment?”
“Mine. I inherited it from my parents before I got married.”
“Then he can’t get anything there either. The only things subject to division are items acquired jointly during the marriage—furniture, appliances, a car, if you have one.”
Natalya nodded. They didn’t have a car, and the furniture and appliances weren’t valuable enough to wage a court battle over.
“My advice: gather all documents proving the origin of your funds,” Viktoria said. “Inheritance certificates, bank statements. And document any threats from your husband if he repeats them.”
When she got home, Natalya found that Sergey had brought reinforcements. In the kitchen sat her mother-in-law, Valentina Ivanovna, sipping coffee. Sergey’s sister, Irina, was there as well.
“Good, you’re back,” Valentina Ivanovna said, without so much as a greeting. “We need to have a serious talk.”
Natalya walked into the kitchen and poured herself some water.
“I’m listening,” she said briefly.
“Sergei told us about the inheritance,” the mother-in-law began. “Of course, we’re happy for you. But you have to understand—family isn’t just you and Liza. There’s us as well, and there’s Irochka.”
“And?”
“And the right thing would be to share,” Irina cut in. “I’ve been looking for a job for six months and can’t find anything. And this is such a big sum…”
Natalya set the glass on the table and looked at the women carefully.
“Tell me, Valentina Ivanovna—when your mother died and left you an apartment, did you share it with anyone?”
Her mother-in-law faltered.
“That… that was different. She was my mother.”
“And Yelena Nikolayevna was my grandmother,” Natalya replied evenly. “And she made the will in my name. Not in Sergey’s, not in yours—mine.”
“But we’re family!” Irina exclaimed.
“Family,” Natalya agreed. “Only it’s a strange kind of family. When you need money—we’re ‘family.’ But when I asked for help renovating Liza’s room, everyone was far too busy.”
Valentina Ivanovna flushed.
“We helped as best we could…”
“As best you could, or as much as you wanted to?” Natalya clarified. “Because I clearly remember asking Sergey to help move a wardrobe. He said his back hurt. And two days later he was happily helping you, Valentina Ivanovna, move your dacha furniture.”
An awkward silence fell.
“In any case, the money has already been transferred to my daughter,” Natalya said firmly. “And it can’t be reversed. So this conversation is over.”
Sergey, who had been silent all this time, suddenly stood up.
“Fine. Then pack your things and get out of my house!”
Natalya smirked.
“Your house? Sergey, perhaps you’ve forgotten, but the apartment is in my name. So you’ll be the one leaving.”
Her husband froze, apparently only just realizing the full situation.
“You’re throwing me out?”
“I’m protecting my interests and my daughter’s,” she replied. “And you can go to your mother’s. Since Valentina Ivanovna is so concerned about family values, let her take you in.”
That evening Natalya sat in the kitchen with her daughter, explaining the situation.
“Mom, what’s going to happen to Dad?” Liza asked.
“I don’t know, sweetheart. It was his choice to put Grandma Valentina’s interests above those of his own family.”
“And you really transferred the money to me?”
“Half of it. For your education. We’ll spend the other half on renovating your room and maybe take a trip during the holidays.”
Liza nodded.
“You know, Mom, I don’t mind. I never liked how Grandma Valentina talks to you. As if you owed her something.”
Natalya hugged her daughter. The girl was wiser than many adults in this situation.
Late that night Sergey did come home. He went into the bedroom, pulled out a bag, and began packing.
“So you’re really going to destroy our family over money?” he asked.
Natalya stood in the doorway, watching him pack.
“You destroyed our family when you decided you could boss me around,” she said. “I’m not forcing you to do anything. If you want to stay—stay. But the attempts at pressure stop now.”
“Mom won’t interfere anymore,” Sergey promised. “I’ll talk to her.”
“Sergey, it isn’t only about your mother,” Natalya said wearily. “It’s about the fact that you didn’t even consult me. You just issued an ultimatum. Which means you don’t consider me your equal.”
Her husband froze with a shirt in his hands.
“That’s not true…”
“It is. And until you understand that, we have nothing to talk about.”
Sergey finished packing and headed for the door. He turned back.
“I’ll come back. And we’ll discuss everything calmly.”
“Maybe,” Natalya nodded. “But only when you learn to talk, not command.”
The door closed behind him. Natalya went to Liza’s room—the girl was already asleep. Tomorrow she would think about the next steps. But the most important thing was done—the money was safe, and no one could take it.
A week passed quietly. Sergey called occasionally, trying to arrange a meeting, but Natalya was unbending—first an apology for the ultimatum, then a conversation. Her husband wasn’t about to apologize; he considered himself in the right.
On Friday evening the doorbell rang insistently. Natalya looked through the peephole and saw Sergey with Valentina Ivanovna. Her mother-in-law held some kind of folder and looked extremely determined.
“Open up, Natalya!” Sergey said loudly. “We need to have a serious talk!”
Natalya opened the door but didn’t let them into the apartment.
“What is it you want to talk about?” she asked coolly.
“We demand an explanation!” Valentina Ivanovna thrust the folder forward. “And all the documents showing what you did with the inheritance!”
“Documents?” Natalya repeated. “Certainly.”
She walked into the room, took the bank statements from the safe, and returned to the hallway. She set the papers on the shoe cabinet.
“The money has been allocated. This is my lawful share of the inheritance,” Natalya said calmly.
Valentina Ivanovna snatched the documents and began rifling through them feverishly. Her face grew redder by the second.
“You stole from the family!” she shouted. “How could you transfer such a sum to a child?! Liza doesn’t understand anything about life!”
Natalya straightened and looked at her mother-in-law with icy composure.
“I didn’t take what wasn’t mine—I disposed of what was left to me by law,” she said clearly. “Yelena Nikolayevna was my grandmother, not yours.”
“But we were counting on…” Sergey began.
“Counting on what?” Natalya interrupted. “That I’d obey your orders without question? Sergey, you gave me an ultimatum—either the money to your mother, or a divorce. Remember?”
“I just wanted to help the family,” he protested.
“Which family?” Natalya gave a thin smile. “Tell me honestly, Valentina Ivanovna—when was the last time you took an interest in Liza? When did you ask how she was doing at school, what she was into?”
Her mother-in-law faltered.
“I… we’ve always cared…”
“That’s a lie,” Natalya cut her off. “You’re only interested in your granddaughter when you need something from me. The rest of the time, Liza doesn’t exist for you.”
Sergey tried to seize the initiative.
“All right, if you’re going to be so principled, then we’re getting a divorce!” he declared. “We’ll see how you sing when you’re left without support!”
Natalya nodded.
“Fine. Then I’ll see you in court.”
Her husband froze. Apparently Sergey had expected tears, pleas, an attempt to make peace. But Natalya was absolutely calm.
“Are you serious?” he asked uncertainly.
“Absolutely. Tomorrow I’m filing for divorce and division of marital property.”
The next day Natalya really did go to the district court. She filed a petition for dissolution of marriage and division of property. The list was modest—TV, refrigerator, washing machine, kitchen appliances. The family had no car; the apartment had belonged to Natalya before the marriage.
A week later Sergey received a court summons. He called his wife, his voice shaking with indignation.
“Have you lost your mind?!” he shouted into the phone. “Why file a lawsuit? We can work this out!”
“Work out what?” Natalya asked. “You wanted a divorce—so be it. But now everything will be done by the book.”
“I didn’t think you were serious…”
“I am,” she confirmed, and hung up.
Meanwhile, Valentina Ivanovna consulted an acquaintance who was a lawyer, hoping to find a way to challenge Natalya’s handling of the inheritance. But the lawyer dashed all her hopes.
“Valentina Ivanovna, an inheritance received during marriage is not subject to division,” the attorney explained. “It’s Natalya’s personal property. And transferring money to a minor daughter is perfectly legal.”
“But the apartment?” the mother-in-law persisted. “My son is registered there!”
“The apartment belonged to Natalya before the marriage. Registration doesn’t confer ownership. At most, your son might get a small payout for the appliances and furniture.”
Her mother-in-law went home crushed. The hope of easy pickings had collapsed for good. Sergey also understood—he wouldn’t be getting the apartment where the family had lived for fifteen years. Nor the inheritance.
“Mom, what do we do?” Sergey asked Valentina Ivanovna.
“Try to make peace,” she sighed. “There’s no other way.”
But it was too late. Natalya had already made her final decision and wasn’t going to back down.
The court hearing was brief. Natalya provided all the documents—title to the apartment, inheritance certificates, statements showing the transfer to her daughter. Sergey tried to object, but the facts were indisputable.
The court left the money and the apartment with Natalya, since everything was documented. The husband was awarded compensation for half the value of the household appliances—a purely symbolic sum.
After the hearing Sergey approached his ex-wife.
“Natalya, maybe it’s not too late to fix things?” he pleaded. “I realize I was wrong.”
Natalya shook her head.
“Sergey, you didn’t realize you were wrong—you realized you’d miscalculated. Those are different things.”
“But I love you…”
“Love?” Natalya was surprised. “A person who loves doesn’t give ultimatums. He consults with the one he loves, he doesn’t issue orders.”
Her ex-husband lowered his head.
“What happens now?”
“Now you’ll live with Valentina Ivanovna and find out what it’s like to be in second place in someone else’s home.”
A month later the divorce was finalized. Sergey was left with nothing and moved in with his mother. At last, Valentina Ivanovna could dote on her son the way she’d always wanted—cook his breakfasts, wash his shirts, control his every step.
Natalya calmly continued her life with her daughter. Liza enrolled in an art college—the money her mother had set aside covered tuition without loans or debts. Part of the inheritance went to renovating the apartment—Liza’s room became a cozy studio for a budding artist.
Sometimes Sergey called, trying to mend relations at least for the sake of their daughter. But Liza herself wasn’t keen to communicate with her father. She remembered how he’d demanded the money meant for her future.
“Mom, do you ever regret it?” Liza asked one evening as they drank tea in the updated kitchen.
“Regret what?”
“That things turned out this way. With Dad, the marriage, the family.”
Natalya thought for a moment.
“You know, Liza, for a long time I was the convenient wife. I agreed to everything, didn’t argue, never insisted on my own opinion. I thought that’s how a family should be. It turned out I was just being used.”
“And you don’t miss him?”
“Miss someone who gave me ultimatums? No, I don’t,” Natalya smiled. “But I did put a period at the end of this story. And I finally learned to stand up for myself and for you.”
That evening Natalya stood by the window, looking out over the autumn courtyard. Yellow leaves swirled in the lamplight, the wind swayed the branches. A new life had begun in autumn—when nature sheds the old, preparing for renewal.
Natalya knew for certain that she’d done the right thing. Grandmother Yelena Nikolayevna’s inheritance had not only secured her daughter’s future—it had revealed her husband’s true face. The money was only the pretext—the real reason for the divorce lay in the fact that Sergey had never considered his wife his equal.
Now Natalya was free. Free from other people’s orders, from having to justify every decision, from the pressure of her husband’s relatives. Ahead lay a life she could finally build by her own choices.
And the money that had sparked the whole conflict lay quietly in Liza’s account, waiting for the moment when the girl could make her dreams come true. That was exactly why Grandmother Yelena Nikolayevna had left the inheritance—not for outsiders, but for her real family.