— You insulted my brother’s wife! Seriously—was it so hard to share some suit? Is it really that valuable?
— Yes, it is, — Tanya answered evenly. — It’s an expensive suit. And I don’t remember you ever buying me clothes so you could shame me about them. Besides, Liza went digging through my things without my permission.
Tanya had always thought of her home as a fortress. Her small two-bedroom apartment—bought on a mortgage in her own name—was the one place where she could close the door, exhale, and finally stop acting. No masks. No pretending. Just being herself and resting.
She worked as an accountant and worked a lot. She often stayed late, finishing reports. Her apartment was always her quiet harbor. But one ordinary Tuesday, when Tanya climbed up to her floor exhausted, she heard voices behind the door. It was odd—she and her husband weren’t expecting guests.
She opened the door and froze in shock.
“Oh! Tanyusha!” Maxim’s cousin’s wife, Liza, cried happily. “We’re here! We’ll stay with you for a little while—until we buy our own place.”
Next to her stood Kirill—Maxim’s brother. Behind them were two suitcases, two backpacks, bags of groceries, and another bag stuffed with strange items that looked like sports equipment.
Tanya blinked. Maybe she was imagining things from being so tired?
But no.
Liza was already strolling around the apartment in a house robe, and Kirill was heading to the kitchen, putting groceries into the fridge like he lived there. Tanya looked at her husband, confused. Maxim stood in the hallway with a guilty smile.
“S-surprise?” he tried, like it was a joke.
“What…?” Tanya asked quietly.
“They’ll stay with us for a week,” Maxim blurted out. “Kirill finally decided to move to the city. They’re tired of the village life, wanted something new. I figured… we don’t mind, right?”
We?
A cold lump rose in Tanya’s chest straight up to her throat.
“You didn’t even ask me.”
Maxim opened his mouth, but Liza cut in immediately.
“Tanya, why are you reacting like this? It’s only for a week! We’re quiet. I clean every day, Kirill takes out the trash—we’re perfect guests! And come on… we’re family.”
But Tanya already knew this “just a week” could stretch into months. It had happened to her sister: relatives asked for “a week” and ended up being shoved out three months later.
By the second day Tanya realized she’d been trapped. Every morning Liza occupied the bathroom for forty minutes. Kirill loved watching movies at night, and when Tanya got up for work, he was snoring like nothing mattered. He didn’t have to go anywhere. And the most insulting part was the way they behaved—like they’d arrived at a spa.
Tanya knew she was already worn out—no vacation in a long time, nerves frayed to the limit. She’d been counting down the days to her break, and now there was yet another irritant in her life. At the beginning of December she’d taken two weeks off, because accountants don’t get vacation right before New Year’s.
And that’s when the real circus began.
On the morning of December 8, Tanya realized she wouldn’t sleep in even once. First Maxim tore through the bedroom searching for a second sock. Then Liza came in because she “needed” lip gloss. Then Kirill started banging around in the kitchen early in the morning. Tanya wanted to disappear through the floor. Somehow she felt even angrier than before her vacation.
When Maxim saw her face, he vanished—miraculously finding his sock on the closet shelf. But Liza and Kirill didn’t yet understand Tanya’s limits.
“Tanyusha, great that you’re up,” Kirill said with a smug grin. “Pour me some coffee.”
Tanya stared at him.
“What is this supposed to be—your personal restaurant?”
His face changed instantly. “Hey, come on! I was joking…”
Meanwhile, Liza shot her sister-in-law a dark look.
“Look at her,” she muttered when Tanya left the kitchen. “We’ll see how she sings in the end…”
Tanya went to the bathroom. When she came out, she almost choked with rage: Liza was walking out of Tanya’s room wearing Tanya’s beige suit—the one Tanya saved for holidays and special occasions.
“You… what are you doing?” Tanya said.
Liza smiled.
“Oh, I just tried it on! What, is it a crime? Are you that stingy?”
“Yes,” Tanya snapped. “Because I didn’t give you permission to rummage through my things. Just because my husband let you stay here doesn’t mean everything is yours to touch.”
Liza smirked and looked her up and down.
“If we want, we’ll live here all year. And you can’t do anything about it.”
Tanya’s voice turned razor-sharp.
“I don’t know what Maxim told you, but the apartment is legally mine. That means I decide whether you live here or not. And if this is how you behave, I’ll call the right people—and then you’ll speak very differently.”
Her words were blunt and cutting.
Kirill raised his hands in a peace gesture. Liza only snorted and went to change.
“Tanya, we’re all family,” Kirill tried again. “Don’t be like that. It’s just that Liza’s never had clothes like yours. She got tempted. Don’t hold it against her, okay? I’ll pour you coffee and make sandwiches right now.”
Tanya only nodded. Kirill hurried off to do it. Liza left for work that morning, and Kirill didn’t leave until midday. Finally Tanya had silence.
Work was chaotic enough on its own, and now her home had turned into a madhouse too.
Sitting at the table with a cup of hot tea, Tanya managed to calm down a little, savoring the rare quiet. For a few hours, it felt like peace returned. She closed her eyes, breathed in deeply, and tried to mentally set aside the tension.
But a couple of hours later, a key scraped in the lock, and Maxim appeared in the hallway. He looked tired, but his eyes burned with irritation.
“Tanya!” he started the moment he stepped inside. “What did you do to Liza?! She called me at work in tears! How could you treat her like that?!”
Tanya looked up, refusing to show her emotions.
“Maxim, let me explain,” she said calmly. “But first I need you to understand something: I wanted to rest and prepare myself for the brutal pre–New Year workload—not live in this chaos.”
“You insulted my brother’s wife!” his voice rose. “You had no right! Was it really that hard to share some stupid suit? Is it really that valuable?”
“Yes,” Tanya said evenly. “It’s an expensive suit. I bought it a year ago before New Year’s and I take good care of it. And I don’t remember you buying me anything so you could lecture me. Besides, Liza went through my clothes without permission.”
“So what?” Maxim snapped. “She wants to feel pretty too.”
“And so do I—imagine that,” Tanya shot back. “But for some reason, in our marriage everything goes one way. I pay the utilities. I buy my own clothes and makeup. Groceries—me too. Sometimes it feels like I’m supporting you.”
“Don’t start with your dramatic speeches,” Maxim scoffed. “The apartment is yours, so you pay. What are you accusing me of?”
“You know what? Nothing,” Tanya said, coldly. “You’re just not living here anymore. Pack your things and get out.”
She paused, then added, “And take your relatives’ stuff with you.”
“Don’t come crying later,” Maxim said with a smug grin and headed to the bedroom.
In a burst of spite, he started gathering Liza and Kirill’s things too. He was ready to prove “who’s the boss” by any means—anything to hurt Tanya on the way out. But then the doorbell rang.
It was Liza.
She stared at Maxim, stunned, clearly not understanding what was going on.
Tanya didn’t explain a thing. She simply waited until Maxim dragged everything into the hallway, then she shut the door, leaving Liza standing there in confusion.
As soon as the door clicked closed, Liza hissed, “What did you do?!”
“Because no one gets to hurt you,” Maxim mumbled.
“Some hero you are,” Liza spat. “Where are we supposed to live now, you idiot?!”
“We’ll figure something out,” he muttered.
A week passed. Tanya’s home filled with calm and cleanliness again. There were only a couple of days left before she had to return to work, and Tanya was already in touch with her boss, preparing for the upcoming rush.
Then her phone rang.
It was Kirill.
“Tanya… can we meet?” he asked carefully, almost shyly. “I need to talk to you about something.”
Kirill was waiting in a small café on the corner—cozy, simple, the kind of place you could tell he knew well and felt safe in. He sat at a table by the window, turning his phone over and over in his hands, glancing at the door every few seconds.
“Tanya!” He jumped up when she walked in and rushed to pull out a chair. “Thank you for coming… I… I really need to tell you something.”
She sat down, feeling anxiety tighten in her chest. Kirill looked strangely shaken—not like a man coming to apologize for inconvenience, but like someone who’d been carrying a dark secret for a long time and had finally decided to speak.
“Tanya…” he began, swallowing hard. “I have to tell you what I should’ve told you a long time ago. You… you were right to throw us out.”
She frowned, not understanding where he was going.
“I knew too,” he exhaled. “I knew about Maxim and Liza. They… they were lovers.”
Tanya’s world tilted. For a second she thought she’d misheard.
“What?” she whispered.
Kirill kept talking, as if he was afraid that if he paused even for a moment, he’d lose the nerve to finish.
“It’s been going on for a long time. They started before you two even got married. Liza used to go to the city ‘to visit a friend,’ but really…” He took a deep breath. “She was seeing Maxim. I thought you knew. He said…” Kirill stumbled. “He said you were in an open relationship.”
Tanya fought to keep her face still. For a split second it felt like her heart stopped—then it slammed painfully against her ribs.
“Open…?” she echoed. “He… he told you that?”
Kirill dropped his gaze, ashamed.
“I was scared to destroy your family. I was a coward. But when I heard how you kicked Maxim out—how you defended yourself and your dignity—I realized I had to take a step too. Liza and I are done… we’ve separated.”
Tanya stared at him as if through fog. Her lips trembled. She blinked faster and faster, trying to hold back tears, but the dam broke. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Tanya, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Kirill said quickly, sliding closer and offering her a handkerchief. “I truly thought you knew. I would’ve told you sooner if I’d understood… Please forgive me.”
She couldn’t answer. She only sobbed and crushed the napkin in her hands. Two years of her life collapsed in a single second. Everything she’d believed was solid turned out to be a lie—dirty, petty, humiliating.
Kirill kept saying soothing things—calling Maxim a bastard, saying Liza had always been like that, telling Tanya she deserved better. Tanya heard it all as if through glass.
After about twenty minutes she finally managed to breathe again. They ordered dinner—simple food, just to keep their hands busy and give their minds something else. They talked a little about work, about the future, about city life. Then they went their separate ways.
That evening Tanya sat by the window, staring at the streetlights. One thing was crystal clear: she no longer wanted to live in limbo, in other people’s lies and filthy betrayals.
She opened her laptop and filed for divorce.
Liza was thrilled—naively convinced that Maxim would get half the apartment. She was already imagining how she’d brag to relatives and friends about owning a piece of “city real estate.” But reality slapped her hard: in two years Maxim hadn’t paid a single cent toward the apartment. He didn’t even have a car—Tanya had registered her new foreign car in her mother’s name.
Maxim walked away with nothing.
His anger turned into despair, then faded into silence as he packed up and went back to the village. Liza stayed with him exactly six months. The moment she realized there was no profit in it, she found herself a new admirer—richer and easier to manage.
Kirill, on the other hand, seemed to come back to life. He got an engineering job at a small company, started earning well, and met a quiet, kind woman named Olesya. Later they married.
Years passed.
One day, right before the holidays, Tanya ran into Kirill in a supermarket near the New Year decorations. He stood by his cart in a solid winter jacket, shoulders straight. Beside him was a gentle-looking woman with a soft smile. Wedding rings caught the light on their fingers.
And beside Tanya stood her three-year-old daughter, gripping her mother’s hand tightly.
“Tanya?!” Kirill brightened with genuine joy. “What a coincidence! You… you look wonderful.”
“And you do too,” Tanya smiled.
Her heart didn’t ache anymore—not for the past, not for Maxim. It was living a different life now. A real one.
They exchanged numbers and met a couple more times—simply as friendly acquaintances. Kirill told her Maxim had stayed in the village, working on a farm and living with his mother. No one had heard anything about Liza in a long time. Tanya only gave a small, knowing smirk. Life had put everyone where they belonged.
And suddenly she understood: their pain hadn’t been the end.
It had been the beginning—the beginning of a better, honest life.
And they were both walking that road now, each on their own path—truly free, and truly happy.