“So, what’s wrong, Romchik? Are you going to introduce me to your ‘former’ family or not? No answer? Then I’ll make everything clear myself. Roman and I love each other. I’m expecting a baby, and our money should go toward raising that child, not wasting it on a rental. Legally, this apartment belongs to Roman, so it’s time for you all to pack up and make room. You do have your own one-room place, don’t you… Tatyana, was it? Then please, be so kind as to leave. This is our nest now.”
Her words shattered the silence of the cozy living room like an axe splitting wood. Seventeen years of marriage, two daughters, family trips, the familiar rhythm of life together — all of it collapsed in a matter of seconds. Roman stood by the door, blinking in confusion, while his young secretary, Lyudmila, confidently set her suitcase down on the parquet floor.
Lyuda came from a small town, but she had the instincts of a hunter. Three months of secret meetings had been enough for her to show up here and claim what she saw as her prize.
“Roman, do you even hear what she’s saying?” Tatyana asked, her voice shaking, though her gaze never wavered. “Your daughters are here. Vera, Veronika! They can hear every word! Are you really going to let this girl make all your decisions for you?”
“Roman simply doesn’t know how to make decisions,” Lyuda cut in, already walking into the kitchen as though she owned the place. “Girls, get used to it. Soon you’ll have a little brother. Roma wants a son, not another copy of the two of you. The apartment is cramped, so start packing. Your rooms will become the nursery.”
Fifteen-year-old Vera and sixteen-year-old Veronika did not cry. Without saying a word, they walked over to their mother, gently took her by the arms, and led her into the bedroom.
“Mom, it’s okay… have some water. We’re with you,” Vera said softly.
Meanwhile, an argument was already exploding in the hallway. Roman was trying to push Lyuda back out the door.
“What are you doing?” he shouted. “I told you I wasn’t going to leave my family! We could have handled the baby situation differently!”
“But I don’t want it handled differently! I got thrown out of my apartment, I’m pregnant, and I need somewhere to live!” she screamed.
The night passed like everyone was sitting on a powder keg. Tatyana locked herself in the room. Lyuda made herself comfortable on the sofa in the living room. And Roman… he sat in the kitchen, staring into empty space. At that moment, he understood that the world he had known was gone, burned down to ashes, leaving behind nothing but guilt.
The next morning, he left for work with Lyudmila, hoping that by evening things would somehow “sort themselves out.” Lyuda, meanwhile, was convinced she would return to an apartment already cleared of the “extra” people.
But the evening turned out nothing like she had imagined.
Tatyana was gone, but the daughters had stayed. They were sitting in the living room — calm, composed, steady.
“Where’s your mother?” Roman asked quietly.
“Mom went to Grandma’s, and then to her own apartment. But we’re staying here. This is our home. Our school is here, our friends are here, and we’re perfectly comfortable here. By the way, Dad, we’re hungry. Let your… new woman make dinner. And please make sure it tastes good — we’re used to proper food.”
Lyuda twisted her face in irritation.
“I’m not going to cook for you!”
“Then what exactly are you supposed to be?” Veronika asked innocently. “Mom was a wife. What are you? The housekeeper? Dad, give us some money — Vera and I need new sneakers, our English classes paid for, and a present for Mom. And pay the internet bill too. We need it for school.”
The following week turned into a real ordeal for Lyuda. The girls gave her no peace at all.
“Lyuda, I spilled some juice. Clean it up. Aren’t you the ‘lady of the house’ now?”
“Lyuda, why is the toilet dirty? Dad was counting on you.”
“Dad, why is she angry all the time? We just want to live in a clean home.”
Lyuda did not last even ten days. It turned out there had never been any pregnancy at all — it had only been a way to pressure Roman. And she clearly had no intention of living as a servant for two teenage girls who looked at her with open contempt.
She left with a loud slam of the door, so hard that the windows rattled.
Roman was left alone in the large apartment that now felt empty. Lyudmila vanished as quickly as she had appeared. His daughters stayed with him, but they treated him coldly — as little more than a source of money and a roof over their heads. The home no longer felt like a home.
Tatyana never came back. No matter how many times Roman stood outside her door, no matter how often he begged forgiveness or brought flowers, her heart remained closed to him. She came to see her daughters, cared for them, laughed with them, but she treated Roman as though he no longer existed.
In the end, he got what he had been fighting for — the apartment. But along with it came loneliness. One day the daughters would grow up and leave, and Tatyana had already learned how to live without him. Sometimes one mistake costs more than a family — it takes away the warmth of a future that can never be restored, even if you are left with the coziest little “nest” in the world.
What do you think? Did the daughters do the right thing? Did they have the right to put that kind of pressure on the situation? And is any apartment worth living in an atmosphere of constant tension?”