The Apartment Issue
Alesya stood in the hallway, unable to believe her ears. Her mother-in-law, Svetlana Sergeevna, had just declared that the apartment of the late grandmother Zoya would go not to her, but to Lena — the wife of the younger son.
“Svetlana Sergeevna, but you promised,” Alesya’s voice trembled with hurt. “You yourself said: if I take care of Grandma Zoya until the very end, the apartment would belong to Misha and me.”
Her mother-in-law pressed her lips together and looked away. There was no hint of embarrassment on her face — only cold determination.
“Circumstances have changed, Alesya,” she said sharply. “That apartment will go to Lena and Borya. They just had their second child; they need it more. You and Misha will manage somehow.”
“Manage somehow?” Alesya felt blood rush to her face. “Svetlana Sergeevna, I spent two years by your mother’s side! Two years carrying her bedpans, giving injections, cooking pureed soups…”
“So what?” the mother-in-law shrugged. “Lena would have cared for her too if I had asked. But she had little children, couldn’t. And you — you’re childless, plenty of time. What was it to you to cook an old lady some soup?”
The word “childless” cut like a knife. Svetlana Sergeevna knew perfectly well that Alesya and Misha had been unable to have children for three years, and she struck at the sorest spot.
“So I wasted two years?” Alesya struggled to hold back tears. “And what about your promises?”
“Darling,” her mother-in-law stepped closer, and her fake affection made Alesya feel even worse, “I never promised anything in writing. And words… who knows what people say. You’re an adult woman, you should understand.”
At that moment, the front door opened, and Lena — Borya’s wife, Svetlana Sergeevna’s younger son’s wife — entered the apartment. A dyed blonde in an expensive fur coat, she gave Alesya a contemptuous glance.
“Mom, so can we start moving the stuff?” she chirped. “Borya’s downstairs waiting with the movers.”
“Wait, Lenochka,” Svetlana Sergeevna glanced sideways at Alesya. “Your sister-in-law is throwing a tantrum here.”
“Oh, her?” Lena snorted. “Mom, why bother with her? Let her go cry to her Misha. Although, what’s the use — he’s a mama’s boy, won’t say a word against you.”
“Don’t you dare speak about my husband like that!” Alesya flared up.
“What, is it not true?” Lena smiled smugly. “Everyone knows Misha can’t take a step without his mommy. Borya’s different. A real man who makes his own decisions.”
“Lenochka is right,” Svetlana Sergeevna supported her daughter-in-law. “Borya’s a good son — he opened his own business, has two kids. And Misha? At thirty-five, he’s still on a salary. Can’t even give his wife a child.”
“Svetlana Sergeevna!” Alesya gasped indignantly. “How can you say such things?”
“I’m just telling the truth,” her mother-in-law shrugged. “If you had kids, I might consider it. But since you don’t — what’s the point of giving you the apartment? No one will inherit it anyway.”
“Exactly!” Lena chimed in. “Masha and Sasha are growing up — they need space. You and Misha can fit in your one-room flat. The two of you.”
Alesya took a deep breath, trying to calm down. She rummaged in her purse and pulled out carefully folded documents.
“Svetlana Sergeevna, Lena,” her voice was surprisingly calm, “I’m afraid you’ll have to change your plans. Here, take a look.”
“What’s this?” her mother-in-law reluctantly took the papers.
“Grandma Zoya’s will. She left the apartment to me. To me personally, not even to Misha — to me.”
Svetlana Sergeevna paled, scanning the lines. Lena peered over her shoulder — and shrieked:
“It can’t be! This is a forgery!”
“The will is notarized,” Alesya replied calmly. “Grandma Zoya made it a month before she died. She understood everything, saw what was happening. And she decided to protect me. From you.”
“You snake!” Lena lunged at Alesya. “You deceived the old woman! Wormed your way into her trust!”
“No,” Alesya stepped back. “I just took care of her. And she appreciated it. Unlike some.”
“How dare you!” Lena yelled. “Mom, tell her!”
Svetlana Sergeevna was silent, rereading the will again and again. Finally, she looked up at her daughter-in-law:
“You… you planned this. You knew mother wrote the will and kept quiet!”
“And what was I supposed to do?” Alesya shrugged. “Tell you so you’d pressure the sick old woman? Force her to rewrite the will?”
“I’ll show you!” Lena raised her hand, but Svetlana Sergeevna held her back.
“Calm down, Lenochka. We won’t leave it like this. We’ll contest the will. Prove that mother was insane.”
“Try,” Alesya nodded. “I have certificates from three doctors confirming that Grandma Zoya was of sound mind and clear memory. And there are witnesses — neighbors, the nurse from the clinic.”
“You bitch!” Lena broke free from her mother-in-law’s grip. “You’ll pay for this! Borya will sue you! He has connections!”
“Your Borya will have problems with his business if he tries,” Alesya responded calmly. “Remember, I work at the tax office. And I know some things about his dealings.”
“You… you dare blackmail us?” Svetlana Sergeevna clutched her chest.
“No. I just want to be left alone. The apartment is mine by law. Period.”
“Does Misha know about this?” her mother-in-law squinted.
“He’ll find out when he comes home from work.”
“He won’t forgive you!” Lena triumphantly exclaimed. “Misha adores his mother! He’ll leave you!”
“That’s between us,” Alesya headed to the door.
“Stop!” her mother-in-law blocked her way. “Where are you going?”
“Home. To my apartment.”
“We’ll see whose it really is!” Lena screamed. “Mom, don’t let her go!”
“Try to detain me,” Alesya’s voice hardened. “I’ll call the police. For illegal restraint. And threats too.”
Svetlana Sergeevna reluctantly stepped back. Alesya stepped onto the landing but turned around:
“One more thing, Svetlana Sergeevna. When you complain to Misha, don’t forget to tell him how you called him a loser. And how you laughed at the fact that we don’t have children. I’m sure he’ll be interested.”
“You won’t dare!” the mother-in-law paled.
“We’ll see about that.”
Alesya went down two flights. By the door of Grandma Zoya’s apartment — now her apartment — stood Borya with two movers.
“Oh, sister-in-law!” he smirked. “Open up, I’m in a hurry.”
“The apartment is mine, Borya. By will. You can ask your wife — she’s upstairs with your mother.”
“What?” Borya’s face fell. “What are you talking about?”
“The truth. Send the movers away, don’t embarrass yourself.”
“I’ll get you!” Borya stepped forward, but Alesya was already dialing her phone.
“Police? Hello. I’m being attacked…”
“Alright, alright!” Borya backed off. “But this isn’t over! Misha and I won’t leave you like this!”
“Bring it on,” Alesya shrugged and opened the door with her key.
The apartment greeted her with silence and the smell of medicine that still hadn’t faded. Alesya went into the room, sat on the sofa where Grandma Zoya had lain just a month ago.
“Don’t let them hurt you, girl,” the old woman’s last words came back to her. “Svetka is mean, Lenka is greedy. But you’re good. You deserve this apartment. Documents are in the drawer, remember.”
The phone rang. Misha.
“Alesya, what’s happening? Mom is crying on the phone, says you insulted her…”
“Misha,” Alesya interrupted. “Come to Grandma Zoya’s apartment. We need to talk.”
“But Mom said…”
“Misha. Come. And decide once and for all — are you with me or with Mom?”
She hung up. What would happen next was unknown. But one thing Alesya knew for sure: she would no longer allow her mother-in-law to walk all over her. Enough.
There was a pounding at the door. Lena’s voice screeched:
“Open up, bitch! This is our apartment!”
Alesya approached the door:
“Lena, all our conversations are recorded on a voice recorder. How you insulted me and threatened me. One more scream — and I’ll hand the recording to the police. For threats and slander.”
Silence fell behind the door. Then footsteps and Svetlana Sergeevna’s murmuring: “Leave her, Lenochka, we’ll figure it out later…”
Alesya returned to the sofa. The voice recorder lay in her purse — turned off. She never intended to record anything. But the bluff worked.
An hour later, Misha arrived. Pale, confused. Sat opposite his wife.
“Alesya… Mom said you took Grandma’s apartment?”
“Didn’t take. I inherited it. Here,” she handed him the documents. “Read.”
Misha skimmed the text. Looked up:
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I knew you’d run to Mom. And she’d start pressuring you to refuse. Isn’t that right?”
Misha was silent. Alesya continued:
“Your mother promised us this apartment for two years. Then she decided to give it to Lena and Borya. Because they have kids, and we don’t. And you know how she explained it? That you’re a loser who can’t even give his wife a child.”
“Mom didn’t say that!” Misha flared.
“She did. In front of Lena. You can ask her — she’ll happily confirm.”
Misha lowered his head. Alesya sat beside him, took his hand:
“Mish, I love you. But I can’t bear your mother’s humiliation anymore. She doesn’t consider us people. Only Borya and Lena are real children to her.”
“What do you want from me?” he asked quietly.
“For you to choose. Either we live separately, as our own family. Or… I leave. Here. In this apartment. Alone.”
“You’re giving me an ultimatum?”
“Call it what you want. But I won’t live under your mother’s thumb anymore. Won’t tolerate being called ‘childless.’ Or laughed at by Lena.”
Misha was silent for a long time. Then he looked up:
“And if Mom gets offended? Stops talking to me?”
“Mish, you’re thirty-five. Maybe it’s time to stop fearing that Mommy will get offended?”
He shuddered as if struck. Got up, paced the room. Stopped by the window.
“You know what Mom said when I left? That you bewitched me. That a normal wife would never go against her mother-in-law.”
“A normal mother-in-law wouldn’t take back a promise,” Alesya retorted.
Misha turned around:
“Okay. Let’s try. Live separately.”
“Really?” Alesya couldn’t believe her ears.
“Yes. I’m tired of Mom always meddling in our lives. Comparing me to Borya. Lena sneering.”
Alesya ran to her husband, hugged him. He held her close:
“Only… let’s fix the place up? It still smells like Grandma.”
“Of course!” Alesya laughed through tears. “We’ll redo everything. This is our home now.”
There was a knock at the door again. Cautiously, almost timidly.
“Who is it?” Misha called.
“It’s me, son. Open up.”
Misha looked at his wife. Alesya nodded. He opened the door. Svetlana Sergeevna stood in the doorway — now alone, without Lena. Her eyes were red, clearly she had been crying.
“Misha, son, you can’t do this. You’re abandoning your own mother?”
“Mom, I’m not abandoning anyone,” Misha replied wearily. “We’re just going to live separately. Like normal families.”
“She taught you that!” the mother-in-law jabbed a finger at Alesya. “Turned you against your mother!”
“Mom, stop. The apartment belongs to Alesya by law. And we will live here.”
“What about Lena and Borya? They have nowhere…”
“They have a three-room apartment, Mom. Plenty of space.”
“But I promised…”
“You promised me for two years,” Alesya interrupted. “Svetlana Sergeevna, let’s just leave the past alone. Everyone keeps what’s theirs.”
“Oh, you…” the mother-in-law fell silent under her son’s gaze. “Misha, will you really let her talk to me like this?”
“Mom, go home,” Misha gently but firmly started to push his mother toward the door. “Calm down. We’ll talk later.”
“Son! Misha! You’ll regret this! She’ll show you her true colors yet!”
The door closed. Misha leaned back against it, exhaled:
“Phew. First time in my life I contradicted Mom.”
“And how does it feel?” Alesya smiled.
“Strange. But… good. Like a weight off my shoulders.”
They hugged in the middle of the hallway. Alesya knew there would be many more scandals, tears, attempts by her mother-in-law to take everything back. But the main thing was done — Misha had chosen her, his family.
And the apartment… Well, thanks to Grandma Zoya. She turned out to be wiser than them all.
