Irina changed her ticket for the return flight at the last moment. She wanted to go home, back to her usual routine, to her husband. Five days at the sea had been refreshing, but now she longed for her own walls. She decided to make it a surprise—come back a day early without telling anyone.
The bus from the airport got her to her neighborhood quickly. The July evening breathed warmth; the air was filled with the smell of linden blossoms and dust. Irina walked up the familiar stairs, mentally planning the evening. She’d cook something tasty, tell Oleg about the trip, show him the photos.
She stopped at the door, fishing out her keys. Strange sounds came from inside—children’s laughter, a loud TV, a woman’s voice. Oleg was probably watching some movie. Though he usually preferred silence.
The key turned with difficulty. The door didn’t open right away—something was in the way. Irina squeezed inside and froze. In the hallway lay children’s sandals, jackets, some bag. On the shoe rack stood unfamiliar sneakers.
“Oleg?” she called uncertainly.
There was some hissing and pounding of feet from the living room. Then her husband appeared, rumpled, in house slippers. His face showed a mix of surprise and… guilt?
“Ira? Weren’t you supposed to come tomorrow?” Oleg stopped in the doorway, blocking the entrance to the living room.
“I changed my ticket,” Irina replied, looking over his shoulder. “What’s going on here?”
Behind Oleg, a familiar figure flashed by—Valentina, his sister. She had a baby bottle in her hands. Right after her, a boy of about five, covered in juice, ran past and disappeared behind the couch.
“It’s temporary,” Oleg started talking quickly. “Valya’s having renovations done. The kids can’t live in construction dust. I thought…”
“You thought?” Irina walked into the living room, taking in the mess. Children’s things were scattered all over the couch, the floor was covered in crumbs and toys. Cartoons were blaring from the TV. “How long has this been going on?”
“The third day,” Oleg admitted. “But it’s not for long. A couple of weeks at most.”
Valentina came closer, smiling tensely.
“Irochka, hi! How was your vacation? Hope you don’t mind? We’re settled here just for a short while.”
“Don’t mind what?” Irina glanced around. “The fact that people are running the show in my apartment without telling me?”
“Oh, come on,” Valentina waved it off. “We’re family. Oleg said you wouldn’t object.”
“Oleg was wrong,” Irina replied dryly. “Where am I supposed to sleep?”
Her husband coughed awkwardly.
“We put a folding bed in the kitchen. A really comfy one. You’ll just put up with it for a couple of weeks, right?”
Irina went into the kitchen. Sure enough, in the corner stood a narrow folding bed made up with an old plaid blanket. Beside it—a stool instead of a nightstand. On the fridge hung a note that said “temporary”—apparently Valentina had decided to mark the territory.
“How sweet,” Irina said through her teeth, returning to the living room. “So the owner of the apartment is now cramped in the kitchen?”
“Don’t make a drama out of it,” Oleg cut in. “It’s family. Valya has nowhere else to go.”
“What about a hotel? A rental?” Irina sat down in the armchair, the only free seat in the room.
“With what money?” Valentina settled onto the couch, as if she were at home. “We’ve got renovations, all our funds are going there. I thought my sister would understand.”
“I’m not your sister,” Irina corrected her. “I’m your brother’s wife.”
“Almost the same thing,” Valentina said airily. “We’re family.”
From the bedroom, a girl of about three ran out, holding Irina’s makeup bag. Its contents spilled all over the floor.
“Tonia, careful!” Valentina shouted, but didn’t move from her spot.
Irina bent down, gathering up the scattered tubes. Her new lipstick had snapped in half. An expensive cream was open, the lid lying under the table.
“That’s my bedroom,” Irina said, straightening up. “My cosmetics.”
“Kids will be kids,” Valentina shrugged. “They’re curious. It’s no big deal.”
“No big deal?” Irina’s voice grew quieter. “Valya, do you understand what’s going on?”
“I do. We’re living temporarily with relatives because we have no choice.”
Oleg was rushing between the women, trying to smooth things over.
“Girls, let’s calm down. Ira, you’re tired from the trip. Get some rest, we’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Rest where?” Irina looked around the room. “In the kitchen, with cartoons blasting?”
The TV really was blaring at full volume. The boy was demanding to change the channel, the girl was crying over a broken toy. Valentina calmly flipped through a magazine.
“Could you turn it down?” Irina asked.
“The kids are used to it,” Valentina replied. “If it’s quiet, they don’t fall asleep well.”
“And the neighbors?”
“The neighbors will survive. They’re just kids.”
Irina walked to the window. The evening outside was beautiful, but the apartment was in chaos. Baby bottles were lined up on the windowsill, crumbs and candy wrappers scattered around. The houseplants had wilted—apparently, no one watered them.
“How long will the renovations take?” Irina asked without turning around.
“A month, maybe a month and a half,” Valentina answered. “It’s not our fault the builders are delayed.”
“A month and a half,” Irina repeated. “In the kitchen.”
“Well, not a month and a half,” Oleg hurried to add. “A month at most. Valya will try to speed things up.”
“I’ll try,” Valentina nodded. “But nobody can promise anything.”
Irina turned to her husband.
“Oleg, can we talk in private?”
“Let’s all talk together,” Valentina suggested. “What secrets can there be in a family?”
“We are not a family,” Irina snapped. “I’ll say it again—we’ll talk in private.”
Reluctantly, Oleg went into the kitchen. Irina closed the door and leaned against it.
“Explain what’s going on.”
“You heard. Valya is having renovations done, the kids have nowhere to live.”
“And where am I supposed to live?”
“Here. In the kitchen for now. It’s temporary.”
“Temporary?” Irina crossed her arms. “I pay for this apartment. I pay half the utilities. I buy half the groceries. And now I’m supposed to squeeze into the kitchen?”
“You’re not supposed to. Just… help the family.”
“Your family. Not mine.”
“Valya is my sister. That means she’s yours too.”
“No,” Irina shook her head. “Valya is your sister. I don’t owe her anything.”
“How can you say that?” Oleg was indignant. “That’s cruel!”
“What’s cruel is moving strangers into my apartment without my consent,” Irina shot back. “What’s cruel is kicking me out of my own bedroom.”
“Not kicking you out. Just shifting a bit.”
“To the kitchen.”
“Well, yeah. What’s the big deal?”
Irina looked at her husband and didn’t recognize him. When had he become so brazen? When did he stop considering her opinion?
“Oleg, I’m tired. I want to take a shower and go to sleep. In my own bed.”
“The kids are settled in there. You’ll wake them up.”
“Let them go to the kitchen.”
“How? There’s the folding bed.”
“My folding bed. Which I never asked for.”
Oleg sighed and rubbed his forehead.
“Ira, be a decent person. Valya really is in a tough spot.”
“And what kind of spot am I in? Easy?”
“You’ve got a roof over your head.”
“Had one,” Irina corrected. “Until you handed it out.”
“I didn’t hand it out. I shared it.”
“Without asking me.”
“I thought you’d understand.”
“I understood. That my opinion means nothing to you.”
A loud wail came from the living room. Valentina was yelling at the kids, the kids were yelling back. The TV kept blaring.
“That’s what it’s going to be like every day?” Irina asked.
“The kids will get used to it, they’ll calm down.”
“When? In a month and a half?”
“Sooner. Valya will handle their upbringing.”
“Judging by what I see, she’s not handling it at all.”
“Don’t be so…” Oleg faltered.
“So what? Finish the sentence.”
“Selfish.”
The word hung in the air. Irina stared at her husband, digesting what she’d heard.
“Selfish,” she repeated slowly. “Because I don’t want to live in the kitchen in my own apartment?”
“Because you don’t want to help people in trouble.”
“In trouble? Valya decided to do renovations. That’s her choice, her problem.”
“The kids aren’t guilty of anything.”
“I agree. But that doesn’t make them my responsibility.”
“We’re a family!” Oleg raised his voice. “Families help each other!”
“You and I are a family,” Irina corrected him. “Valya and her kids are your relatives. They’re not my obligation.”
“So you’ll throw them out on the street?”
“They’ll figure something out. Just like millions of people in similar situations.”
“Heartless.”
“Practical.”
Oleg shook his head.
“I don’t recognize you. You used to be kinder.”
“They didn’t use to evict me from my own bedroom,” Irina replied coolly.
The door opened a crack and Valentina peeked in.
“Are you going to be long? The kids are hungry and the stove is busy with your talk.”
“Cook,” Irina said. “Just clear my spot.”
“What spot?” Valentina didn’t understand.
“The kitchen. Put the folding bed away.”
“Where am I supposed to put it? It’s yours.”
“It’s not mine. Put it back where you got it.”
Valentina looked at her brother.
“Oleg, what’s going on?”
“Ira’s just a bit tired,” her husband said in a conciliatory tone. “We’ll talk it over tomorrow.”
“We’ll talk today,” Irina said firmly. “This is my apartment. And I’m not going to huddle in a corner for your sake. Pack your suitcases and out you go.”
Valentina turned pale and stepped back.
“Are you insane? Where are we supposed to go with the kids?”
“Not my problem,” Irina replied. “Figure it out yourself.”
“Oleg!” Valentina appealed to her brother. “Are you hearing what your wife is saying?”
Her husband shifted uncomfortably, looking from his sister to Irina.
“Maybe we can reach a compromise? A couple more days until Valya comes up with something?”
“No,” Irina said shortly and walked into the living room.
The conversation was over. It was time to act, not talk. The children kept running around the room, ignoring the adults’ arguments. The boy had built a fortress out of couch cushions, the girl was drawing with markers directly on the coffee table.
“Aunt Ira is mean,” the little girl announced loudly without looking up from her drawing.
“I’m not mean,” Irina said tiredly. “I just want to live in my own home.”
By nightfall, things hadn’t calmed down. Valentina was demonstratively putting the kids to bed, loudly commenting on every move.
“Lie down, sweethearts. Tomorrow we’ll look for a new place. Aunt Ira is kicking us out.”
Irina didn’t react. She took a set of linens from the closet and went to the kitchen. The folding bed creaked under her weight, the mattress sagged awkwardly. Something crunched under the armrest—it turned out to be a toy car. Muffled voices came from the living room—Oleg and his sister were discussing the situation.
“I never thought Ira could be so cruel,” her husband whispered.
“I saw it right away,” Valentina replied. “Cold woman. No heart.”
Irina closed her eyes, trying to fall asleep. Tomorrow would be a new day. They’d see who was more stubborn.
In the morning she got up early without waking anyone. She dressed quietly and left the house. She walked through the familiar streets and stopped at the café around the corner. She ordered coffee and a croissant and sat by the window. She needed to think in peace, without the extra noise.
Options ran through her mind one by one. She could endure a little longer—maybe Valentina would leave on her own. She could start a big scandal—throw their things out the door. Or she could act smarter.
She came back home two hours later. The apartment was in its usual chaos. Valentina was feeding the kids breakfast right in the living room, with the TV turned up to full volume. Crumbs were flying everywhere, juice was dripping onto the table.
“Where have you been?” Oleg asked, coming out of the bathroom.
“Out walking,” Irina answered shortly. “Thinking.”
“And what did you come up with?”
“That it’s time to put things in order.”
Irina took a bucket and a rag and started cleaning. Valentina watched from the couch without moving.
“You’re wasting your time,” the sister-in-law said. “The kids will mess everything up again.”
“We’ll see,” Irina replied, continuing to mop the floor.
“By the way,” Valentina added, “I don’t like your old rules. Kids are kids, they need freedom.”
“In their own home, they can be as free as they like,” Irina shot back. “Here, we follow my rules.”
“What rules?” Valentina protested. “We’re only here temporarily!”
“Temporary or not—it doesn’t matter. My home, my rules.”
The day passed in tension. The kids kept misbehaving, Valentina pretended not to notice. By evening, things had gotten even worse. Irina discovered the towel in the bathroom was wet and filthy, her phone charger was missing, and strange creams and shampoos were lined up on the shelf.
“Where’s my charger?” Irina asked.
“What charger?” Valentina replied with fake innocence.
“For my phone. It was on the nightstand.”
“Oh, that one. The kids needed to charge the tablet. It should be around somewhere.”
“Find it,” Irina said firmly. “Right now.”
“I’ll find it later. Can’t you see I’m busy?”
Valentina was sprawled on the couch flipping through a magazine. The kids were racing around the room, ignoring the scattered toys.
On the third day, Irina’s patience snapped. In the morning, she walked into the living room with a garbage bag and stopped in the doorway. The boy was pouring juice directly onto the carpet, the girl was tearing a newspaper into tiny pieces. The TV was screaming cartoons at maximum volume. Valentina calmly painted her nails, ignoring the mess.
“That’s enough,” Irina said.
“What’s enough?” Valentina asked without looking up.
“That’s it.” Irina walked over to the closet and pulled out two large suitcases. “Pack your things.”
“Pack to go where?” Valentina finally looked up from her manicure.
“Home. To your place. To a rental. Anywhere at all.”
“We’re not going anywhere!” the sister-in-law snapped. “We’re having renovations done!”
“That’s your problem,” Irina replied calmly, opening the suitcase.
She began folding the children’s clothes methodically, without rushing. Valentina jumped up from the couch.
“You have no right!”
“I do,” Irina kept packing. “This is my apartment.”
“Oleg!” Valentina shrieked. “Get over here, now!”
Her husband came in from the kitchen, confused.
“What happened?”
“Your wife has lost her mind! She’s throwing us out!”
“Ira, stop,” Oleg pleaded. “We agreed you’d put up with this.”
You agreed,” his wife corrected him. “I didn’t.”
“But the kids…” he began.
“The kids will go with their mother,” Irina cut him off. “And their mother will find them a place to live.”
“I don’t have money for a rental!” Valentina cried.
“Borrow some,” Irina suggested. “Ask your relatives.”
“What relatives?”
“You have a brother,” Irina nodded at Oleg. “Let him rent something for you.”
“With what money?” her husband stammered.
“With yours,” his wife replied evenly. “She’s your sister, your problem.”
Valentina flushed dark red.
“You heartless egotist!”
“Maybe,” Irina agreed. “But in my own apartment I have the right to be whoever I like.”
She took some documents from the dresser and unfolded them in front of her husband and sister-in-law.
“Take a good look. Owner—me. The apartment was registered in my name before the marriage. Oleg is registered here as a resident, but he has no ownership rights.”
“We’re husband and wife!” Oleg protested. “We have joint property!”
“Not all of it,” Irina corrected him. “This apartment is my premarital property. It doesn’t get divided in a divorce.”
“In a divorce?” her husband blurted out. “What divorce are you talking about?”
“The one that will happen if you don’t get your little family out of here,” Irina answered firmly.
Valentina clutched her head.
“Oleg, did you hear that? She’s threatening you with divorce!”
“I’m not threatening,” Irina clarified. “I’m warning.”
Her husband paced between the women, not knowing what to say. The children had gone quiet, sensing the tension.
“You have ten minutes to pack,” Irina announced. “After that, your things will be outside the door.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Valentina shrieked.
“Try me,” Irina replied calmly.
She went on packing the rest of their things into the suitcase. Her movements were confident and unhurried. Valentina realized the threat was real.
“Oleg, do something!”
“What can I do?” her brother spread his hands. “The apartment really is in Ira’s name.”
“You’re my brother! You’re supposed to defend me!”
“Ira isn’t a stranger to me either.”
“Not a stranger?” Valentina laughed hysterically. “She’s throwing us out onto the street!”
“I’m not throwing anyone out,” Irina corrected her. “I’m just taking my home back.”
The suitcases were packed quickly. Irina rolled them to the door and set the children’s jackets and shoes next to them.
“Time’s up,” she said.
“We’re not going anywhere!” Valentina declared stubbornly.
“Oh, you are,” Irina opened the front door. “Voluntarily or by force.”
“By force?” Valentina gasped. “What, are you going to call the police?”
“If I have to.”
Valentina realized this was no joke. Reluctantly, she took the children by the hand.
“Come on, kids. Aunt Ira doesn’t love us.”
“This isn’t about love,” Irina said tiredly. “It’s about boundaries.”
Valentina went out first, dragging the protesting children. Oleg picked up the suitcases.
“Ira, are you serious? You can’t treat family like this.”
“I can treat my family like this,” his wife replied. “My family is you. The rest are your relatives.”
“What if I go with them?”
“That’s your choice.”
Her husband stood in the doorway, torn. Then he picked up the suitcases and stepped out onto the landing.
“Think about what you’re doing,” he said before leaving.
“I have thought about it,” Irina replied and closed the door.
Silence finally settled in the apartment. Real, long-awaited silence. Irina walked through the rooms, assessing the damage. Stains on the carpet, scratches on the furniture, crumbs everywhere. But all of that could be fixed.
She sat down in the armchair and closed her eyes. For the first time in several days, she truly relaxed. Her own space, her own rules, her own control. That was exactly what she’d been needing for a long time