Tatyana Alexandrovna struggled to understand what exactly she had been given. That day, her son-in-law had invited her simply for a «visit,» supposedly for a barbecue. Only when the fragrant smoke started to rise from the grill, and the meat began to sizzle, did Oleg casually hand her a set of keys.
At first, she laughed, thinking it was some kind of game. But he, calm, confident, always a bit reserved, said:
— «This is now yours. The house, the land, the gazebo—all official. I just wanted to do something nice.»
Oleg never liked grand gestures or pompous statements. Even now, he spoke as if he hadn’t bought a house, but had simply taken it from a friend to «save the good,» as if the land had been overgrown, and he decided it was better to give it to his mother-in-law than let it sit idle.
Tatyana silently turned the keys over in her hands. They were weightless, almost like toys. But the feeling… that was enormous. Was her heart lightly rejoicing? Or was it pulling her back to the thought: what do I do now with this entire gift?
On the way home, in the car, Larisa—her daughter—beamed with joy:
— «Mom, now you’re rich! There’s a whole lawn, flowerbeds, roses! And the house—it’s like something out of a movie!»
But a moment later, she added:
— «But this year, I probably won’t make it. The pregnancy is tough. We decided that you’ll go alone for now. Don’t let the place go to waste! It’ll do you good to rest there.»
The next morning, Tatyana, still not fully believing the reality of what had happened, set off for the country house. The trip was long—electric train, bus, then on foot. But when she reached the gate, she heard the familiar creak and stopped. In front of her was the perfect lawn, neat paths, fresh air. She stood in the middle of the plot, unable to believe it all now belonged to her.
Two windows with white curtains, a veranda with carvings, wooden swings under a birch tree, gooseberries in the corner, and in the center—a flowerbed with young sprouts. It seemed like the house had come out of the pages of an old fairy tale. And the most important thing—silence. No shouting, no cars, no TV. Only the wind in the leaves and the chirping of birds.
She went inside. She ran her palm over the back of a chair, inhaling the scent of wood and herbs. On the kitchen counter were jars of honey and dried fruits, in the fridge— a bottle of milk. In the bedroom—clean bed linens, in the bathroom—new lavender-scented soap. Someone had worked hard, not sparing anything. She knew it was Oleg. No fanfare, no unnecessary words. He simply did it.
That night, she didn’t turn on the TV. She simply sat on the veranda, drank tea, and watched the sunset paint the clouds pink. For the first time in a long while, it seemed like peace had arrived. And life had stopped in the right place.
A few days later, back at home, she posted a couple of pictures on social media: sunset, tea cup, green veranda. The caption was short:
«Cozy can be different. Sometimes, it’s like this.»
She didn’t expect it to stir such interest.
The very next day, Lyuba—a distant relative whom they hadn’t spoken to in a long time—called. Her voice rang in the receiver:
— «Tanyusha! I saw your photos! Is that your country house? Oh my God, how beautiful! Did your son-in-law give it to you? I can’t believe it! Such people! We must meet! We haven’t seen each other in so long!»
Tatyana tried to answer politely, but Lyuba was already charging forward, like a spring hurricane:
— «Yura and I will come to visit on the weekend! Shashlik, wine, good mood—what could be better?»
It was impossible to refuse.
By Saturday noon, the gatebell announced their arrival. Lyuba burst in first—with a smile, bags, vodka, and a voice that could wake up the whole neighborhood:
— «Oh, Tanyusha, how beautiful it is here! Just like in a movie! Wow, lucky you!»
Yura—her husband—walked past almost without greeting, immediately sitting down on the bench. He was silent, drinking, looking at his phone. Meanwhile, Lyuba talked about everything under the sun—neighbors, work, how hard it is to live with someone who is «just special.»
Tatyana walked around, almost as if in a fog. She set the table, poured more shashlik, didn’t eat herself. When Yura, after the meal, lay down on her bed—still in his shoes, with muddy boots on the floor—she said nothing. When the evening ended, she was left alone among spots of ketchup, scattered rags, and empty bottles. The morning began with a weight on her chest. The country house no longer felt like paradise.
Later, she noticed that the syrniki, a jar of jam, and a packet of milk had gone missing—the little bit she had left «for reserve.» And then it dawned on her: the guests hadn’t just stayed—they had taken part of her comfort with them. And in return, they left exhaustion.
In the following days, she stopped answering the phone when Lyuba called. But one day, in the middle of the afternoon, the phone rang again. The voice on the other end was solemn:
— «Tanyusha, we’re coming with the girls! With the kids. We’re not bringing Yura. Are you okay with that?»
— «And the kids… are they very little?» Tatyana asked uncertainly.
— «No! Eight and ten years old. Lovely children! You just hold them for a bit, and we’ll stay by the grill!»
And again, she couldn’t say «no.» For some reason, it felt awkward, as if it were she who were breaking the rules.
Saturday arrived, the gate swung open, and the kids rushed into the garden. One straight to the flowerbed, the other pulling off flowers, shouting that «they smell bad,» and tossing petals everywhere. The mother, busy chatting with Lyuba, just waved it off:
— «Don’t shout, don’t bother Aunt Tanya.»
And Tatyana felt everything tighten inside her. From shame. From helplessness. She wanted to disappear.
She was alone again. Only the kitchen, empty chairs, and silence that no longer felt cozy. After the guests, there were traces left behind: crumbs, stains, trampled grass, indentations on the pillows. She cleaned it all up. Wiped down the tables, washed the floors, even sprayed lavender mist— as if the old sense of peace could return.
But the air still carried someone else’s energy. And Tatyana began to wonder: «Is it worth coming back here? Maybe it’s better to let the house just stand… remain empty. Why keep it if I can’t rest here?»
Not even two days later, the phone rang again. The screen showed Lyuba’s name. «What now?» flashed in Tatyana’s mind. But she picked up the phone, trying to sound calm:
— «Hello.»
— «Tanyusha! Hi, darling! Tanya and I are thinking—why don’t we come to you for the weekend? Just the two of us, no kids. A girls’ night, shashlik…»
— «We’re leaving, with my husband, to the city. Business. I’m busy.»
— «Husband? So you really got married?»
— «Dmitry Nikolaevich. We’re not making it public. It just happened.»
— «Are you serious? Is he so gloomy?»
— «He’s reliable,» Tatyana answered. «And I feel safe with him.»
And she hung up.
She stared at the phone for a long time. Her hands were shaking, but inside—there was warmth. For the first time in a long time, she hadn’t given in. She hadn’t explained. She hadn’t apologized. She had just put a period on the conversation.
That same day, a new photo appeared on social media: she and Dmitry on the veranda. Tea, strawberries, silence. The caption: «Honeymoon. Phone off.»
Comments poured in: some were happy, some were surprised, some were jealous. She didn’t reply. She just liked, sometimes smiled. And that was it.
Saturday arrived. The morning was unusually calm. Athos lazily chewed on grass, Dmitry sharpened a knife, and Tatyana watered the flowers. But by noon, the noise began again.
— «Tanya! Tanyusha! We’re coming to you! Surprise! We’re like family!»
He went out. Calmly. No shouting. Behind him—Athos.
— «She’s resting. No one’s here.»
— «What’s this circus? We’re friends! Let us in!»
— «We’re not expecting anyone today,» Dmitry said.
— «We brought juice for the kids! Wine, fruit! Just for a little while! Call Tanya!»
He didn’t answer. Silently, he went back inside and came out with two chocolates, a bottle of water, and a couple of plastic cups. He placed everything at the gate.
— «Goodbye.»
— «Who are you, anyway?!» Liza couldn’t hold it in.
Dmitry didn’t respond. He just closed the gate. The click of the latch sounded like the final punctuation mark. A pause. Silence.
Tatyana watched all of this from the window. Her hand was on her chest, as if trying to calm her racing heart. But inside, there was… warmth. For the first time, she didn’t feel lonely in the face of someone else’s insistence. She was being protected. Not with words. With actions.
When the noise outside died down, they sat on the veranda, drinking tea. Tatyana cautiously asked:
— «Have you always been able to do that? Chase away an entire delegation with just a glance?»
— «The service leaves its mark. The key is to stay silent. People figure it out on their own when it’s not the right time.»
On Monday, the phone rang. The screen read: Lyuba. Tatyana sighed and picked up.
— «Tanyusha, this is too much! We just wanted to help, and you… you’ve completely forgotten about us?»
— «I have a husband at home, Lyuba. He doesn’t like guests. Don’t be offended, but I think we won’t see each other again.»
— «He’s so… harsh! Couldn’t you find someone simpler?»
— «I couldn’t,» Tatyana answered firmly. «And I didn’t want to.»
— «Well, live how you want!» Lyuba muttered and hung up.
She never called again.
The quiet weeks followed. No phone calls, no visits. Occasionally, someone from the «well-wishers» would show up at the gate, but seeing Dmitry or hearing Athos growl, they would quickly disappear. The plan worked without words. No scandals. Just—a boundary drawn clearly and firmly.
Tatyana became herself again. Or rather—the new version of herself. The woman who once feared saying «no» was now in the past. Now, she had her own home. And she knew: no one would ever cross its threshold against her will again.
One evening, she sat down next to Dmitry on the bench. He was reading a newspaper, focused and silent. She looked at the garden, where twilight was descending, and suddenly said:
— «Thank you. I mean… everything. Not just what you did. But how you did it. Very… gently.»
He raised his eyebrows slightly.
— «I just honored the agreement. You paid, and I played the role.»
— «Maybe it was an agreement, but it felt real.»
— «Then let’s celebrate. Tea, a little sugar, a little cake. And a bone for Athos.»
For the first time in a long time, he smiled. Not widely. But sincerely. Like someone who enjoys being around, not because it’s necessary, but because it’s wanted.
They sat until dark. Talking. Not about plans, not about the past—just being together. Like people who are comfortable with each other. Not because they have to. But because they truly want to.
And then Tatyana understood: this whole «show marriage» story had been a turning point. Not to protect her from guests. But to learn how to protect herself. To say: «I no longer need to tolerate.» And start living—truly.
— «You know,» she said, «I used to start every morning with anxiety. I was afraid someone would call, show up, destroy my peace. But now… I can just wake up, open the window, and know: it’s safe here.»
Dmitry looked at her for a long time, thoughtfully. Then he said:
— «I’ll leave you my number. If anyone shows up—call me. I’ll come.»
— «And if I just want you to come?»
— «Then I’ll come not as a protector. But as a guest. A voluntary one.»
They fell silent. Listening to the evening, which smelled of pine wind, blooming gooseberries, and something else—more personal. Something that didn’t need words.
— «What if someone comes and you’re not here?» she asked quietly.
— «I won’t leave,» he said. «I’ll stay. Right here.»
And he touched her shoulder—almost imperceptibly. But that was enough to make it clear: this was no longer a game. This was life. And it seemed she had finally chosen her side.
Since then, not much time has passed. Neighbors whispered, guessing: is he really her husband, or just a good acquaintance? Some called them a couple from a movie, some envied silently.
But Tatyana didn’t care. Because now it wasn’t a masquerade. This was their home. Their summer. Their story.
