Do you have any idea how I feel when I come home and see that everything’s been moved around?” Polina stood in the middle of the living room, looking at her husband. Her voice was tight with tension. “I’m the one paying the mortgage, and yet your mother has somehow decided that she owns part of this apartment.”
Pavel sighed and ran a hand through his hair. They’d already had this conversation more than once in the past few weeks.
“Polina, she just wanted to help. She thought it would feel cozier this way.”
“Without saying a single word to me?” Polina folded her arms across her chest. “Pasha, this isn’t help, it’s… it’s an invasion!”
It had all started two months ago. Olesya Mikhailovna, Pavel’s mother, had lost her job. The company where she had worked as an accountant for more than ten years suddenly closed. And instead of going to her elder daughter Margarita, she asked to stay with them. Temporarily, of course. Just for a couple of weeks, until she found a new job.
Polina had agreed without hesitation. After all, the apartment was small, but there was enough space for three. Besides, Olesya Mikhailovna had always been friendly with her. Until now.
“Darling, I understand you’re tired,” Pavel stepped closer and tried to hug his wife, but she pulled away. “Mom will find a job soon and move out. Just bear with it a little longer.”
“Two weeks turned into two months, Pasha. And she’s not even looking for a job! Instead, she’s acting like she runs my apartment.”
“Our apartment,” Pavel corrected gently.
Polina drew a deep breath, holding back her irritation.
“Legally – mine. The mortgage is in my name, because your salary wasn’t enough for the bank to approve the loan. And every month I give almost half my income to the bank. I’m not against us living here together, but your mother…”
The front door opened, and in walked Olesya Mikhailovna carrying bags of groceries.
“Oh, kids, you’re already home! I just popped into the store to get some stuff for dinner,” she said with a cheerful smile, as if she didn’t notice the tense atmosphere.
Polina forced a tight smile.
“Thank you, Olesya Mikhailovna, but I already ordered delivery. I had a hard day.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, dear! What delivery? Home-cooked food is always better,” Olesya Mikhailovna went into the kitchen and started unpacking the bags. “I’ll make my signature salad, Pavlik has loved it since childhood.”
Polina cast a helpless look at her husband, but he only shrugged and said quietly:
“Let’s not argue today, okay?”
The next morning, Polina woke up to the sound of voices in the living room. Women’s voices, laughter. The clock showed 7:30 – far too early for visitors.
Hastily getting dressed, she stepped out of the bedroom and froze in the doorway. At the coffee table sat Olesya Mikhailovna and two women about her age whom Polina had never seen before.
“Oh, and here’s Polinochka awake!” the mother-in-law exclaimed joyfully. “Let me introduce you, this is Valentina Petrovna and Irina Stepanovna, my friends from my old job.”
The women eyed Polina with open curiosity, while she felt awkward standing there in home clothes in front of strangers.
“Good morning,” Polina said with a strained smile. “Sorry, I didn’t know we had guests.”
“They just dropped by for a minute,” Olesya Mikhailovna waved her hand. “We haven’t seen each other in so long!”
“You have such a cozy little apartment,” one of the women remarked. “Olesya did such a good job arranging everything.”
Polina went rigid.
“Yes, I always said Olechka has great taste,” chimed in the second guest. “She told us how she helped you set everything up.”
Polina turned her gaze to her mother-in-law.
“Helped set everything up?”
“Well, I suggested a few things, gave some advice,” Olesya Mikhailovna brushed it off lightly, but something wary flickered in her eyes.
“Don’t be so modest, Olesya!” one of her friends exclaimed. “You said that without your help the youngsters wouldn’t have managed at all.”
Something snapped inside Polina. She was about to respond, but just then a sleepy Pavel walked out of the bedroom.
“Good morning, Mom,” he kissed his mother on the cheek, then nodded to her friends. “Hello.”
“Pash, we need to talk,” Polina said quietly. “Now.”
They stepped out onto the small balcony and closed the door tightly behind them.
“Your mom is telling her friends she helped us buy the apartment,” Polina tried to keep her voice low, but emotion spilled over. “They think she’s the one who arranged everything here!”
Pavel frowned.
“Well, maybe she exaggerated a little, just to feel important in front of her friends. What difference does it make?”
“The difference is that it’s a lie!” Polina raised her voice, then caught herself and continued in a whisper. “I saved up for six years for the down payment. I went from bank to bank begging for approval. I pay this loan every month. And your mother is taking credit for everything.”
“You’re overreacting. Mom just…”
“No, Pasha, I’m not overreacting. Be honest—what else is she telling them? That she put money into the purchase? That she owns a share here?”
From the look on Pavel’s face, she knew she’d hit the mark.
“Pash, this is not okay. You have to talk to her.”
Pavel stared past Polina for a long moment.
“Okay, I’ll talk to her,” he said at last. “Just not now, not in front of her friends. And… please, don’t turn this into a tragedy.”
At work, Polina got a surprise. The director called her into his office and offered her a promotion—to head a new department working with clients from other regions. It meant a thirty percent salary increase, but also frequent business trips.
“We need your answer within a week, Polina Andreevna,” he said. “Think it over. You’re our best candidate for this position.”
Under normal circumstances, Polina would have agreed without a second thought. She had always aimed for career growth. But right now, the idea of leaving the apartment in Pavel’s and his mother’s hands made her uneasy.
That evening she decided to discuss it with her husband. But when she came home, she found that Olesya wasnikhailovna once again wasn’t alone. This time, her elder daughter Margarita had come with her husband.
“Oh, here’s our Polinochka!” Olesya exclaimed. “Come on in, we were just about to have dinner.”
Polina noticed that the table was set in the living room instead of the kitchen where they usually ate. Their small dining table was covered with an unfamiliar tablecloth, and the dishes were arranged differently than she and Pavel were used to.
“Hi, everyone,” Polina nodded to the guests. “Pash, can I talk to you for a minute?”
They stepped out into the hallway.
“Why didn’t you warn me we’d have guests?” Polina asked.
“I only found out an hour ago,” Pavel replied. “Mom called Margarita and they decided to drop by.”
“To our apartment? Without checking with us?”
“Polin, it’s my sister, not strangers.”
“It’s not about that, Pash. It’s about your mother behaving as if this is her home. She invites guests, rearranges things, tells everyone she helped with the purchase…”
“I told you I’d talk to her,” Pavel cut in. “Just not today, okay? Rita and Sergey don’t visit us often.”
Polina gave in. After all, one evening wouldn’t change much.
Over dinner, the conversation turned to Margarita’s work. She worked at a travel agency and often went on business trips.
“Can you imagine, this month alone I’ve already been to St. Petersburg three times,” she said. “I spend less time at home than in hotels.”
“That must be hard,” Polina said sympathetically, thinking of the offer from her own boss.
“Yeah, but what can you do? That’s the job. Sergey is used to spending half the month alone.”
“I was offered a promotion too,” Polina blurted out unexpectedly. “Also with business trips.”
“Really?” Pavel looked at her in surprise. “You didn’t say anything.”
“I only found out today.”
“And will you have to travel a lot?” asked Olesya.
“About a week a month.”
“Oh, but what about Pavlik? He’ll be lost without you!” the mother-in-law exclaimed. “Men are so helpless in everyday life.”
“Well, as long as you’re living with us, he’ll have someone to help him,” Polina remarked, watching her mother-in-law’s reaction closely.
“Of course, of course! I’m always happy to help my boy.”
Polina noticed Margarita and her husband exchange glances.
“Mom, you still haven’t found a job?” Margarita asked.
“I’m looking, slowly but surely, dear,” Olesya answered. “But right now the youngsters need my help. Just look how tired Polinochka is from work. If not for me, they’d be eating nothing but convenience foods.”
Polina almost choked. She cooked no worse than her mother-in-law; it was just that lately, because of the tension at home, she preferred staying late at the office.
“By the way, Polina,” continued Olesya, “I ran into the neighbor from the first floor. She says there are pipe problems in the basement again. You should call the management company.”
“Why me?” Polina asked in surprise.
“Well, the apartment is in your name,” the mother-in-law replied innocently. “Although of course we all helped with the purchase, each in our own way.”
There it was. Polina glanced at Pavel, but he quickly looked away.
“Helped?” Margarita repeated. “Mom, you never said you contributed to their apartment.”
“Well, I… helped with advice and support…” Olesya waved vaguely. “Without me they’d never have dared to take such a step.”
Polina felt anger boiling inside her. It was an outright lie, but calling out her mother-in-law in front of guests didn’t feel right.
After dinner, when Margarita and her husband had left, Polina decided she couldn’t put off the conversation any longer.
“Olesya Mikhailovna,” she began when the three of them were in the living room, “I think there’s been a misunderstanding between us.”
“What do you mean, dear?” the mother-in-law looked genuinely surprised.
“About the apartment. You tell people you helped us buy it, but that’s not true.”
“I never told anyone that!” Olesya cried. “I just mentioned that I supported you morally.”
“Mom,” Pavel cut in, “your friends this morning said outright you’d told them you helped financially.”
Olesya flushed.
“They misunderstood! I said I would’ve helped if I could. You know my financial situation.”
“It’s not just that,” Polina went on. “You invite guests without asking us, you rearrange our things…”
“I only wanted to make it cozy!” Olesya interrupted. “Is it so bad that I care about you?”
“Caring means asking permission,” Polina said firmly. “It means respecting someone else’s space.”
“Someone else’s?” Olesya raised her voice. “So you think I’m a stranger here? In my son’s apartment?”
“Mom, that’s not what Polina meant,” Pavel tried to intervene.
“That’s exactly what she meant!” Olesya stood up, pressing a hand dramatically to her chest. “She’s always seen me as a stranger. To her I’m just a guest who’s overstayed her welcome! And all I’ve ever done is try to help you!”
“Olesya Mikhailovna,” Polina tried to keep her tone even, “when you moved in, we talked about two weeks. It’s been two months. You’re not even looking for work.”
“How am I not looking? I check the listings every day! But at my age it’s not so easy to find a position.”
“I understand, but…”
“No, you don’t!” Olesya turned to her son. “Pavlik, tell her! Tell her I have a right to be in your apartment! In your family!”
Pavel looked lost.
“Of course, Mom. No one is saying you have to leave right this second. It’s just… maybe we should talk about some ground rules?”
“Rules? In a family?” Olesya let out a bitter laugh. “I see she’s turned you against me. Fine, I won’t get in the way. I’ll go to my room.”
She went into the guest room, closing the door loudly behind her.
Polina and Pavel were left alone in the living room.
“What was that?” Polina asked quietly.
“She’s just upset,” Pavel sighed. “Losing her job, not knowing what’s next…”
“Pash, she’s manipulating you. Don’t you see that?”
“Don’t talk about my mother like that,” Pavel frowned. “She’s been through a lot since the divorce. It’s not easy for her.”
“And it’s easy for me? Every day I come home and have no idea what’s waiting for me. What guests, what new furniture layout, what stories she’s told the neighbors about ‘our family apartment.’”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“No, Pasha. You just don’t want to see reality. Your mother has no plans to leave. And no plans to respect our… my boundaries.”
The next few days passed in strained silence. Olesya barely spoke to Polina, only when absolutely necessary, but she was conspicuously affectionate and caring with Pavel.
On Wednesday, the director called Polina:
“Polina Andreevna, we need your answer about the new position. There’s another candidate, but we’d prefer to have you.”
Polina hesitated only a moment.
“I agree, Viktor Sergeyevich. When do I start?”
“On Monday. And get ready for a business trip to Novosibirsk right away. For two weeks.”
Two weeks. Polina pictured what might happen in the apartment during that time, and shuddered inwardly. But it was too late to back out.
That evening, she told Pavel and Olesya the news.
“Two weeks?” Pavel looked worried. “That’s pretty long.”
“Don’t worry, son,” Olesya responded immediately. “I’ll take care of you. We’ll be fine.”
Polina caught a triumphant note in her voice.
“I’m sure you will,” she replied dryly. “I just ask that you don’t invite any guests while I’m away.”
“While you’re away,” Olesya repeated, putting emphasis on “you.” “Of course, dear. Everything will be just as you want.”
Polina didn’t believe a single word, but she had no choice. Work was work, and the promotion was too important for her career.
The business trip began on Monday. Polina called Pavel every evening, but his answers were brief: “Everything’s fine,” “All good,” “Don’t worry, we’re managing.”
On the tenth day, during one of their calls, Polina heard an unfamiliar female voice in the background.
“Pash, do you have guests?”
“No, it’s…” He hesitated. “It’s Kristina, Mom’s niece. She came to apply to university and is staying with us for a couple of days.”
Polina froze.
“Niece? In our apartment? Pash, we agreed—no guests!”
“Polin, she’s family. We couldn’t just turn her away. She’s only here for a few days, then she’ll move into the dorm.”
“And when were you going to tell me?”
“I… didn’t want to worry you. You’ve got enough on your plate.”
Polina felt the anger rising.
“Pash, that’s the last straw. I’m coming back tomorrow.”
“But your business trip is until Monday.”
“I’ll wrap up everything early. Expect me tomorrow evening.”
Polina didn’t wait for his objections and hung up. She really could finish her work sooner—only formalities remained, which could be handled remotely.
When Polina opened the door to her apartment the next day, she didn’t at first understand if she’d come to the right place. There were strangers’ things in the hallway, and voices and laughter drifted from the living room.
She walked further in and stopped in the doorway. At the table sat Olesya, a young girl of about eighteen, and an older woman Polina had never seen before.
“Polina?” Olesya looked surprised. “You weren’t supposed to be back until Monday!”
“I finished work early,” Polina said, sweeping her gaze over the room. The furniture had been rearranged, unfamiliar paintings hung on the walls, and her work corner had vanished. “What is going on here? And who are these people?”
“This is Kristina, my niece,” Olesya pointed to the girl. “And this is Nina Fyodorovna, an old friend of mine. She came to stay for a week.”
“To stay?” Polina looked at the big suitcase in the corner. “Here? With us?”
“Yes, with us,” Olesya emphasized the word. “What’s the problem? There’s plenty of space.”
“Plenty?” Polina couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “In a two-room apartment? Where does your friend sleep?”
“In the living room, on the sofa. And Kristina is in my room with me. Everyone’s comfortable.”
“And who did you discuss this with? Me? Pavel?”
“Pavlik didn’t mind,” Olesya shrugged. “And you were on a business trip.”
“Where is Pavel?” Polina looked around.
“He’s at work. He has extra classes at school today.”
Polina took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm.
“Olesya Mikhailovna, we need to have a serious talk.”
“Of course, dear. Just not right now, we’re having lunch. Will you join us?”
“No,” Polina said sharply. “I’ll wait for Pavel in the bedroom.”
She turned and headed for the bedroom—the only place she hoped had been left untouched.
But there too a surprise was waiting. Clothes were spread out on the bed—clearly not hers or Pavel’s. Women’s clothing, a makeup bag…
“What is this?” Polina came back into the living room holding a strange sweater.
“Oh, those are Kristina’s things,” Olesya replied casually. “We were sorting them. We’ll put everything away in a minute.”
“You were sorting clothes in my bedroom?”
“Well yes, there’s more space in there. What’s the big deal?”
Polina felt herself losing control.
“This is beyond all bounds, Olesya Mikhailovna! You’ve moved strangers into my apartment. You’re doing whatever you want in my bedroom. You’ve rearranged all the furniture. What’s next?”
“Dear, you’re overreacting,” Olesya shook her head. “My son lives in this apartment, which means it’s partly mine too. I have the right to invite whomever I want.”
“What?” Polina couldn’t believe her ears. “Repeat what you just said.”
“I said that my son has a share in this apartment, which means I have a share too!” Olesya said firmly. “And I won’t let you tell me what to do!”
At that moment, the front door opened and Pavel walked in.
“Polina?” he froze in the doorway, surprised. “You’re already home?”
“Yes, I’m home,” Polina turned to her husband. “And do you know what I found? Your mother has turned our apartment into a hostel. And she’s claiming that she owns a share of it!”
Pavel looked from his wife to his mother, bewildered.
“Mom, what is she talking about?”
“Oh, Pavlik, your wife is exaggerating again,” Olesya threw up her hands. “I just invited Kristina and Nina Fyodorovna to stay. What’s the big deal? We’re one family!”
“No, we are not one!” Polina was on the verge of losing it. “And you do not have any share in this apartment!”
“How can I not?” Olesya snapped. “Pavlik lives here, so part of the apartment belongs to him!”
“Legally, it does not,” Polina cut her off. “The apartment is in my name only. I’m the one paying the mortgage. And I will not allow you to treat my property as your own!”
“Polina, calm down,” Pavel tried to hug her, but she pulled away.
“No, Pash, I won’t calm down. This has gone way too far. Your mother has to move out. Right now.”
A heavy silence fell over the room.
“I see how it is,” Olesya said at last. “So you’re throwing the mother of your husband out onto the street? Maybe you should kick Pavlik out too while you’re at it? Since the apartment is only yours?”
“Mom, stop,” Pavel looked exhausted. “No one is throwing anyone out. Let’s all calm down and talk this through.”
“There’s nothing to talk about!” Olesya got to her feet. “I can see I’m not wanted here. Come on, Kristina, let’s pack your things. You too, Nina Fyodorovna. They don’t want us here!”
Kristina looked confused, first at her aunt, then at Polina.
“Maybe I should just go to the dorm? They promised me a room from next week, but I can ask if they can move me in earlier…”
“No!” Olesya grabbed her niece by the hand. “We’ll go to Margarita’s. She’ll definitely take us in, unlike some people!”
Pavel helplessly glanced from his mother to his wife.
“Mom, don’t get carried away. No one said you have to leave right this minute.”
“I did,” Polina said firmly. “Pavel, your mother stayed with us for two months instead of the promised two weeks. She didn’t look for a job. She treated my apartment as her own. She invited strangers without our permission. And now she claims she owns a share of the apartment for which I alone pay the mortgage!”
“Polina, I understand you’re upset, but…”
“No, Pash, you don’t understand!” Polina no longer held back her emotions. “I work from morning to night. I just got a promotion that I earned with years of hard work. I’m paying off a loan for our apartment. And I have the right to come home and feel comfortable there, not like a guest in a hotel taken over by strangers!”
Olesya began to demonstratively scoop things off the table.
“Everything’s clear. We’re leaving. Let’s go, Nina Fyodorovna, Kristina. We won’t disturb the young couple. Pavlik, call me when your wife cools off.”
“Mom, wait,” Pavel tried to stop her. “Let’s talk this through.”
“There’s nothing to discuss! She’s kicking me out!” Olesya shook her head indignantly. “All I wanted was to help. To make it feel homey. And she… she…” The mother-in-law sniffed theatrically. “That’s how you find out who your real friends are and who’s just a stranger!”
Polina watched this performance in silence. Everything became crystal clear—Olesya would never admit she’d done anything wrong and would seize any chance to paint her daughter-in-law as the villain.
“I’m going to pack my things,” Polina said to her husband. “Let me know when your mother and her guests are gone.”
“What?” Pavel looked at her in shock. “Where are you going?”
“To Lena’s,” she meant her best friend. “I need time to think everything over. And so do you.”
She went into the bedroom, packed what she needed, and, ignoring Olesya’s laments, walked out of the apartment.
The next week was the hardest in their relationship. Polina stayed with her friend; Pavel called every day, but their conversations were short and tense.
On the third day he told her that his mother had moved in with Margarita, taking Kristina and her friend with her.
“I want you to come back,” he said. “I miss you.”
“And I miss respect, Pasha,” Polina replied. “Your mother crossed every line there is, and you let her.”
“I know. I talked to her. I explained she was wrong.”
“And what did she say?”
Pavel hesitated.
“She… doesn’t exactly agree. But she promised not to do that again.”
Polina gave a bitter little laugh.
“So she doesn’t admit she was wrong, but promises not to repeat what, in her view, isn’t wrong at all? Sorry, but I don’t believe that.”
“Polin, let’s give her a chance. She’s still my mother.”
“That’s not the point, Pash. The point is that she doesn’t respect me or my rights. And apparently, you don’t either.”
“That’s not fair! I’m always on your side!”
“Really? It seems to me you’re always looking for a compromise where there shouldn’t be one. This is my apartment, Pash. I pay for it. And I have the right to decide who lives in it.”
“So we’re back to this?” Pavel’s voice turned cold. “‘My apartment.’ Maybe I should move out too then?”
Polina sighed.
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. I’ve always seen this as our home. But your mother decided she could run it as she pleased, and you let her.”
After that call, there was silence for a few days. Polina threw herself into work, trying not to think about home.
On the fifth day, Margarita called.
“Polina, can we meet? We need to talk.”
They met at a café not far from Polina’s office.
“I wanted to apologize,” Margarita began, which surprised Polina. “I didn’t know Mom behaved like that in your apartment.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean inviting strangers without asking you, rearranging things, telling everyone she helped with the purchase… Now that she’s living with me, I see how she tries to remake everything to her liking.”
Polina looked at her carefully.
“And how do you react?”
“I shut it down immediately,” Margarita smiled wryly. “I told her this is my home and my rules. Mom was offended, of course, but she backed off. We sorted things out with Kristina too—she moved into the dorm, just as planned.”
“And Nina Fyodorovna?”
“She went home. She, by the way, was shocked by the whole situation. She said Mom invited her by assuring her that everything was agreed with you.”
They fell silent for a moment.
“You know,” Margarita continued, “I think I understand what’s going on. Mom has always been the boss in the family. Dad indulged her in everything. When he left, she shifted that way of behaving onto me and Pavel. I got married early and moved out, and Pavel stayed with her. He got used to giving in, to pleasing her.”
“I’ve noticed,” Polina said dryly.
“Don’t be too hard on him. It’s not easy for him to stand up to Mom. But I can see how miserable he is without you. He calls me every day, asking for advice.”
“Do you advise him to take my side?” Polina asked with a hint of irony.
“No,” Margarita answered seriously. “I advise him to find his own. Not Mom’s, not yours—his own. To finally become an adult and independent.”
After that conversation, Polina did a lot of thinking. About Pavel, about their relationship, about what had happened. She understood she couldn’t blame him for not wanting to quarrel with his mother. But she also wasn’t going to blame herself—she had every right to defend her boundaries.
On the seventh day Pavel showed up at her work with a bouquet of flowers.
“We need to talk. Not here. At home.”
Polina hesitated.
“Is your mother there?”
“No. And she won’t be, unless you say so. This is your home, Polina. Our home. And I want you to feel happy in it.”
There was such sincerity in his eyes that Polina agreed.
At home, the table was set—Pavel had clearly prepared for this conversation.
“I’ve been thinking a lot this week,” he began when they sat down. “And I realized I was wrong. I should have defended you, not run back and forth between you and Mom.”
“I’m not asking you to choose between us,” Polina said quietly. “I just want your mother to respect me and my boundaries.”
“I know. And I talked to her. Really talked, probably for the first time in my life. I explained that her behavior was unacceptable. That she has no right to run our apartment or tell people she helped buy it.”
“And how did she react?”
“As usual—she was offended, said I was an ungrateful son for choosing my wife over my mother…” Pavel smiled sadly. “But then, when she saw I wasn’t backing down, she became… more flexible. Admitted she went too far.”
“She apologized?”
“Not exactly. She said that ‘maybe she was too active in trying to help.’ For her, that’s almost the same as admitting she was wrong.”
Polina nodded. She hadn’t expected a full apology from Olesya.
“So what now?”
“Now she’s living with Margarita. And the most surprising thing—she found a job. She’s going to work as an accountant at a small company near their house. She starts next week.”
“That’s good,” Polina said sincerely. “I’m glad for her.”
“I want you to know,” Pavel squeezed her hand, “that I’m on your side. Always. And I promise I’ll never put you in that position again.”
Polina looked at him for a long time, then squeezed his hand in return.
“I believe you. And I’ll come back. But I have one condition—we have to clearly set rules for your mother if she wants to visit us.”
“Of course,” Pavel agreed immediately. “What rules?”
“No unannounced visits. No rearranging things in the apartment. No guests without our permission. And most importantly—no more talk about her having a share in our apartment.”
“I agree with everything. I’ll tell her. And I’ll make sure she sticks to it.”
A month later, Polina and Pavel hosted a family dinner. They invited Polina’s parents, Margarita and her husband, and of course, Olesya.
The atmosphere was tense, but everyone tried to be polite. Olesya was unusually quiet, only occasionally remarking on her new job.
After dinner, when everyone moved to the living room, Olesya suddenly turned to Polina.
“I’d like to say something,” she began, looking more serious than usual. “I didn’t behave very well when I lived here. It was hard for me to accept that my son is already an adult, an independent man with his own family. That he has a wife who has the right to set her own rules in the house.”
Polina looked at her in surprise—she hadn’t expected such a speech.
“Margarita talked to me a lot,” Olesya went on. “She explained that I was crossing boundaries. That I can’t boss people around in someone else’s home.”
She paused.
“I won’t ask for forgiveness, because I really did want what I thought was best. But I admit that I was wrong. And I want us to be able to communicate normally. For Pavlik’s sake.”
It wasn’t a full apology, but for Olesya this was a huge step.
“I want that too,” Polina replied. “For Pavel’s sake and for our own. We don’t have to be best friends, but we can respect each other.”
Olesya nodded.
“I agree. And… I won’t say anymore that I have a share in your apartment. I understand that’s not true.”
Polina glanced at Margarita—she discreetly winked. Clearly, she had done a lot of work with their mother.
“Thank you,” Polina said sincerely. “That means a lot to me.”
The evening went on in a more relaxed atmosphere. There was no real reconciliation between Polina and Olesya—the hurt on both sides ran too deep. But they’d reached a truce based on mutual respect.
When the guests had left, Pavel hugged Polina.
“Thank you. I know how hard this was for you.”
“It was hard for both of us,” she answered. “But we got through it. Together.”
“Do you think Mom has really changed?”
Polina thought for a moment.
“I’m not sure she’s changed. But she’s understood the rules of the game. And that’s already a lot.”
They stood by the window, looking out at the night city. Their apartment had once again become their fortress, their shared space where both of them felt safe.
“I love you,” Pavel said quietly. “And I promise I’ll never put anyone’s interests above yours again. Not even my mother’s.”
Polina leaned into him.
“And I promise to always remember that even though the apartment is in my name, this is our home. But only ours—yours and mine.”
She knew that her relationship with her mother-in-law would never be perfect. Olesya would always try to push her boundaries, always want to be the main woman in her son’s life. But now they had clear rules. And most importantly, Pavel had finally found the strength to stand up for their family, their home, their future.
And that meant they could handle any difficulties that lay ahead
