Roman was almost finished renovating the balcony. There was only a little work left when his phone suddenly rang.
He pulled off his work gloves, reached toward the small cabinet, and exhaled through clenched teeth when he saw the caller’s name.
“Lyudmila.”
That was exactly how his mother was saved in his contacts. He could never bring himself to label her “Mom.”
Lyudmila had abandoned Roman when he was four years old. After divorcing his father, she had insisted that her ex-husband keep the child. The new man in her life had made it clear that he didn’t want a woman with a child joining his family, and Lyudmila had accepted his condition. She chose her new relationship over her own son.
She didn’t call Roman. She didn’t visit him on his birthdays. It was as if she had simply erased him from her life.
She paid a miserable amount of child support, just enough to prevent unpaid debts from piling up. That was practically everything Roman ever received from his biological mother.
“Hello,” Roman answered reluctantly. He had no desire to speak to a woman he had long considered a stranger.
“Sweetheart, hello! How are you? Anything new?”
Lyudmila’s voice was sickeningly sweet.
She had suddenly returned to her son’s life a couple of years earlier, after discovering that Roman had become successful and found himself a fairly well-paying job. Before that, she hadn’t made the slightest attempt to contact him. But lately, her calls had become increasingly frequent, and most of them eventually turned into requests for help.
“I’m fine. I’m busy, so just tell me what you want.”
Roman’s tone was cold and distant. He made no effort to hide the fact that conversations with her didn’t interest him.
Perhaps he should have simply told Lyudmila to stop calling him altogether. But he hadn’t been raised that way. Out of a strange sense of gratitude for the fact that she had given birth to him and had at least acted like a mother during the first few years of his life, he occasionally helped her.
After Lyudmila left, Roman’s father quickly brought another woman into their home.
Roman had been a small child then, and at first he had been terrified of his stepmother. He imagined she would hate him, mistreat him, or constantly remind him that he wasn’t her child.
Instead, Alyona Maksimovna turned out to be a wonderful woman.
She quickly became attached to Roman and eventually became the real mother he had never had. She never demanded that he call her “Mom.” She simply loved him, cared for him, and treated him like her own son.
Roman’s father, unfortunately, was not the kind of man who remained loyal for long.
He soon grew tired of his second marriage and started seeing another woman behind Alyona’s back. Alyona Maksimovna had no intention of tolerating betrayal, so she filed for divorce.
Roman had just turned ten.
He was terrified that another strange woman would soon replace Alyona. What if the next stepmother wasn’t kind? What if she treated him completely differently?
But Alyona had already grown to love Roman as her own child. She decided to fight for him.
His father didn’t object. The boy’s future didn’t seem to concern him very much.
And so Roman remained with his stepmother.
Everything Roman had achieved in life was largely because of her. Alyona Maksimovna had supported him through every difficult period, encouraged all his ambitions, and helped whenever she could.
Roman was deeply grateful to her.
To her—not to the biological parents who had abandoned him emotionally and, in his mother’s case, physically.
“Why are you talking to me like that?” Lyudmila complained over the phone. “Do you really think I can’t simply call my own son to see how he’s doing?”
“You remembered you had a son a little too late,” Roman replied with a bitter laugh. “Do you need money again? I can’t help you financially right now.”
“Money? I wasn’t going to ask you for money! Is that really what you think of your own mother? Clearly, I should have been more involved in raising you when you were little,” Lyudmila sighed dramatically.
“You should have been,” Roman agreed. “It’s a little late to think about that now. So what do you want? If you only called to ask how I’m doing, I’m busy.”
“I heard you bought an apartment. Aunt Galya told me. Congratulations! Well done. I’m proud of you.”
Roman remained silent.
“And now you should let your sister stay with you. There’s no decent work in our little town, and she’s still young. She needs a chance to make something of herself, just like you did. You’re obligated to support your family!”
“Obligated?” Roman repeated, unable to believe what he had just heard. “My family? Are you serious? I don’t even know this sister of mine.”
Someone knocked on the apartment door.
Roman frowned.
He wasn’t expecting anyone. His girlfriend was at work, and even if she had decided to come over unexpectedly, she had her own key.
“You have no right to talk to me like that!” Lyudmila suddenly screeched through the phone. Her sugary tone disappeared, replaced by offended outrage. “I gave birth to you! I paid child support! I didn’t abandon you, circumstances just… happened! And now you’re looking down your nose at me and disrespecting your own mother!”
Roman was barely listening anymore.
The knocking came again.
Short. Sharp. Impatient.
Whoever stood outside clearly wasn’t used to waiting.
Roman walked toward the entrance while Lyudmila continued complaining in his ear.
He opened the door and froze.
His fingers tightened around the phone so hard that the case creaked.
A slim young woman stood in front of him. Her facial features strongly resembled Lyudmila’s.
His sister?
Zlata?
The relative whose existence Roman knew about but whom he had never actually met?
She smiled at him—not shyly or uncertainly, but confidently, almost arrogantly, raising her chin slightly.
“Hi, big brother,” Zlata said.
Without waiting to be invited inside, she stepped over the threshold and rolled a suitcase into the apartment.
“Not bad,” she said, looking around. “Aunt Galya told us you bought a nice apartment. Good for you.”
Roman cleared his throat but couldn’t immediately find the words to respond.
“So this is how you ask me for help?” he finally said into the phone, swallowing the heavy lump in his throat. “You decided to simply send her here and put me in front of a done deal?”
“What are you going to do, throw her out?” Lyudmila’s voice suddenly became hard. “Roman, I took care of you when you were little! I paid child support! You owe your family!”
Roman ended the call.
There was no point arguing over the phone when the actual problem was now standing in his hallway.
And what else was he supposed to call a sister he had never invited?
Without looking at Zlata, Roman went into the kitchen, put his phone on the table, and took several deep breaths while staring at the wall.
Meanwhile, Zlata had already made herself at home.
She walked into the living room, opened the bedroom door, then peeked onto the balcony where Roman’s renovation tools were scattered around.
“So where am I going to sleep?” she asked in a tone that made it sound less like a question and more like a statement. “Probably the bedroom. The bed in there is big.”
“You can stay for a few days while you find a job and rent a place,” Roman said, turning toward her and crossing his arms. “One week. Two at the absolute most. Understood?”
“Of course,” Zlata answered easily.
She was already opening the hallway closet and inspecting its contents.
“Wow, you keep everything so neat. Although if this were my place, I’d rearrange everything in here.”
She smiled.
It was the same sweet, artificial smile Roman had seen countless times on Lyudmila’s face.
And at that moment, Roman realized he had probably made a mistake by letting Zlata inside.
Still, he couldn’t bring himself to throw her out immediately. It was already getting dark, and despite everything, she was a young woman alone in an unfamiliar city.
Roman refused to give up his bedroom and allowed her to sleep in the living room instead. Several times, he reminded her firmly not to delay looking for work and accommodation.
“I’m planning to move in with my girlfriend soon,” he explained. “You need to understand that there won’t be room for you here.”
“I understand, I understand. I’ll try to sort out work and housing as quickly as possible. You’re the best brother in the whole world,” Zlata said with a bright smile.
The best brother in the world?
They had literally met for the first time that evening.
Roman understood perfectly well that Zlata would say whatever she thought he wanted to hear, as long as he didn’t send her away.
Three days passed.
Living under the same roof with someone who was technically related to him but felt like a complete stranger was difficult.
Zlata barely left the apartment.
In fact, she didn’t leave at all.
She slept until noon, spent hours lying on the sofa, watched television, and endlessly scrolled through her phone.
“Are you actually looking for a job?” Roman asked after several days.
“Of course I am. But it’s not that easy. I get invited to interviews, but nothing happens afterward. By the way, big brother, can you give me some money? I don’t even have enough for transportation.”
“What exactly were you thinking when you decided to move here?” Roman asked, clenching his fists.
“Mom said you’d help me. You’re my brother.”
“My brother?” Roman repeated. “We’ve never even spoken before you showed up at my door. You’re living in my apartment, you can’t even wash your own dishes or clean up after yourself, and now you’re asking me for money too?”
“We’re family! Don’t talk like that! I always wanted to meet you and become close to you.”
Roman shook his head.
Despite his irritation, he gave Zlata some money and once again reminded her that her stay in his apartment was temporary.
“I remember, I remember! Don’t worry, brother. I’ll definitely find something.”
Roman didn’t believe her.
And soon Zlata’s behavior became even worse.
She wasn’t merely refusing to clean anymore. She was turning his apartment into a complete mess.
One evening, Roman came home from work and found his sister stretched across the sofa, laughing at videos on her phone.
An empty bag of chips lay beside her, along with a half-finished bottle of soda.
“What is this mess?” Roman demanded, struggling to contain the rage building inside him. “Is it really that difficult to walk to the trash can and throw this stuff away?”
“Oh, brother, why are you always so boring?” Zlata complained. “I’m exhausted today. Do you know how many interviews I went to?”
She stretched lazily.
“My legs are killing me. Oh, and by the way, give me some more money. I already spent everything. I won’t even have enough to get to tomorrow’s interview.”
“You went to interviews, did you?” Roman asked. “Or did you spend the money on all this?”
Zlata sat up and pouted like an offended child.
“You’re seriously upset because your sister bought some chips? Why are you so mean?”
“That’s enough,” Roman said wearily.
Something inside him finally broke.
“Pack your things and get out. I’m tired of trying to be nice while you take advantage of me.”
“Pack my things? How can you throw me out? We’re family!”
Family.
For some reason, Lyudmila had remembered that word only after discovering that Roman had become successful enough to be useful.
And apparently she had taught Zlata the same lesson.
“No,” Roman said quietly. “We’re not family.”
For the first time, he fully understood something that should have been obvious long ago.
He owed nothing to a sister he had never known and had never asked to know.
He owed nothing to the mother who had abandoned him years earlier.
He had tried to remain patient. He had restrained himself. He had tolerated their demands out of guilt and obligation.
But he was finished.
“You can’t throw me out!” Zlata cried. “I’ll call Mom!”
“Call whoever you want. I don’t care anymore. Pack your things. I’ll pay for a taxi and buy you a ticket back to your mother. If you refuse to leave, I’ll put your suitcases outside myself. You are not staying in my apartment.”
Zlata looked at him carefully.
For the first time since arriving, she seemed to understand that Roman wasn’t bluffing.
She saw how furious he was.
His patience had finally run out.
Realizing she had no other option, Zlata began packing her belongings while sniffling dramatically and muttering that Roman would regret treating her this way.
Roman barely remembered ordering the train ticket or sending her to the station.
Adrenaline was rushing through his body.
He should have sent her away the moment she appeared at his door instead of tolerating the arrogance of a sister and mother who had immediately tried to take advantage of him.
As expected, Lyudmila started calling almost immediately, demanding that he bring Zlata back and apologize to her.
“She can’t stop crying! I never expected something like this from my own son! How could you do this? You owe me! I paid child support for you!”
“If you think that means I owe you something, then try demanding child support from me through the courts,” Roman replied coldly. “And don’t call me again. I should have made this clear a long time ago.”
There was silence on the other end.
“Thank you for finally helping me understand everything. From this moment on, I don’t want any relationship with you or Zlata. I have no need for relatives who only appear when they want something from me.”
“I am your mother!” Lyudmila shrieked. “You can’t simply reject me like this!”
“My mother is Alyona,” Roman replied. “I don’t have another one.”
He ended the call.
And for the first time in a long while, Roman felt genuinely relieved.
He took a deep breath and realized that an enormous weight had finally been lifted from his shoulders.
Alyona was the only mother who had truly earned his love, gratitude, and support.
Lyudmila and Zlata might have been related to him by blood, but they had never behaved like family.
Their entitlement seemed endless, and Roman was grateful that he had finally found the courage to put an end to their relationship once and for all.
He had no intention of speaking to them again, much less supporting them financially.
Because with people like that, giving them a little is never enough.
The more you give, the more they expect.
And eventually, when they push too far, they may discover that they have been left with nothing at all.
