Maria carefully arranged the children’s clothes in the wardrobe, gently smoothing each item. Suddenly, voices she knew well came from the hallway. The baby was peacefully sleeping in the stroller, and the woman tried to move as quietly as possible so as not to disturb the child. After three years of living together with Vladimir, she had grown accustomed to this apartment, which had become their family nest immediately after the wedding. Her mother-in-law, Elena Mikhailovna, had always been grateful for the help around the house, and the young family had a roof over their heads — that was their agreement at the time.
The death of her father-in-law, Petr Nikolaevich, two months ago came as a complete surprise to everyone. He passed away quietly in his sleep, leaving behind a will that was unexpected even for his own wife.
“I can’t understand why he left the apartment specifically to you,” Elena Mikhailovna admitted to her son at breakfast. “Although, to be honest, it’s fair. You live here and took care of him.”
Vladimir nodded silently, recalling the inheritance document found in his father’s desk.
“The main thing is that now we have our own home,” he added, glancing at his wife.
Maria responded with a slight smile.
The funeral was over, but the very next day, there was a knock at the door. The woman approached and opened it. Standing in the doorway was a woman of about fifty with strong facial features and a sharp, penetrating gaze.
“Who are you?” she asked, appraising Maria.
“I’m Maria, Vladimir’s wife. And you?”
“Svetlana Petrovna, the deceased’s sister. I need to speak with my nephew.”
Aunt Sveta entered the apartment uninvited. Vladimir heard the conversation and came out of the room.
“Aunt Sveta! How wonderful that you came!”
“Yes, I came,” the woman said, carefully inspecting the hallway. “I have several questions related to family matters. I hope we can discuss everything and come to an agreement.”
Elena Mikhailovna came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands with a towel.
“Svetlana, come in, would you like some tea?”
“I wouldn’t say no to tea. And while we’re at it, let’s talk about the inheritance.”
Vladimir frowned.
“What inheritance? Father left the apartment to me.”
“That’s what I want to talk about,” Aunt Sveta sat at the table without taking off her coat. “In my opinion, I also have the right to a part of father’s property.”
“Dad made a will,” Vladimir tried to object.
“A will can be contested, nephew. Especially when one person gets everything, and the other relatives get nothing.”
Maria took her daughter in her arms and quietly went to her room.
“I demand a fair division!” Aunt Sveta exclaimed, becoming more emotional. “This apartment belonged to my father, so it belongs to me too!”
“But according to the will…” Vladimir began.
“I don’t care about your will!” the woman sharply interrupted him. “I will live in the very room where this couple with the child is now!”
Hearing these words, Maria came out of the room holding the baby.
“Sorry, but we have been living here for three years. This is our home.”
Aunt Sveta turned to her with a sly smile.
“Well, dear, it’s time to make way. Enough of living off other people’s kindness.”
“Aunt Sveta, you have no right to speak to my wife like that,” Vladimir interjected.
“Oh, I do!” The woman pulled out a folder of papers from her bag. “Here’s a new will from my father, naming me as an heir!”
Vladimir took the documents with trembling hands. Elena Mikhailovna approached him.
“Let me see.”
Maria saw the expressions on her husband’s and mother-in-law’s faces begin to change. What they read clearly did not bring them joy. It turned out that a second will of Petr Nikolaevich had surfaced.
The next day, another “guest” arrived — Uncle Dima, the deceased father-in-law’s brother. He literally burst into the apartment.
“Where is that scoundrel who claimed the family apartment?” he shouted as soon as he crossed the threshold.
“Uncle Dima, let’s stay calm,” Vladimir tried to control the situation.
“Calm? Are you crazy?!” The man was beside himself. “This is my father’s apartment, and some puppy thinks it’s his!”
“Everything is officially arranged by the will…”
“What will?” Uncle Dima snatched the documents from his nephew’s hands and dramatically tore them in two. “Here’s your will!”
Elena Mikhailovna tried to intervene:
“Dmitry, be polite. It was your father’s wish.”
“Shut up, you’re nobody here!” the man snapped. “Neither this apartment nor your son’s!”
Maria hugged her daughter tighter. The child started crying at the loud shouting.
“Please, don’t make noise. There’s a little child here.”
“I don’t care about your child!” Uncle Dima yelled. “You shouldn’t have had a baby in someone else’s apartment!”
Vladimir turned pale.
“Uncle Dima, please…”
“Don’t boss me around! I will live here, and you can find yourself a roof somewhere else!”
A month passed, and the atmosphere in the apartment became unbearable. Aunt Sveta and Uncle Dima took over the living room, turning the family’s life into a nightmare. They constantly quarreled with each other, demanded Maria cook and clean for them.
“Vladimir, we need to do something,” Maria whispered to her husband in the hallway.
“What now?” Uncle Dima immediately jumped up. “What are you whispering about? Planning something against us again?”
“We just wanted to…”
“Silence!” he yelled. “You weren’t given permission to speak!”
Elena Mikhailovna couldn’t stand it:
“Vladimir, are you a man or not? Throw these ruffians out!”
“Mom, don’t interfere.”
“How not to interfere? They’ve turned our home into a thoroughfare!”
“Our home?” Aunt Sveta laughed. “This is not your home, dear. Nor your weak-willed son’s.”
One morning, Maria went out into the hallway and saw an unfamiliar man with a briefcase.
“Excuse me, who are you?”
“A realtor. I came to appraise the apartment for sale.”
Her breath caught.
“Sale? What sale?”
Aunt Sveta came out of the living room, looking pleased.
“Oh, our tenant is awake. Meet Igor Semyonovich. He will help us sell the apartment and split the money evenly.”
“Vladimir!” Maria ran to find her husband.
She found him in the kitchen, sitting at the table, buried in his phone.
“Is it true? You agreed to sell the apartment?”
Vladimir lifted his weary eyes.
“Maria, understand. It’s better for everyone. We will find something smaller, and the relatives will get their share.”
“Better for everyone? And what about our daughter?”
“You can stay with your parents for now. Temporarily.”
Maria looked at him in disbelief. Was this really the man she loved?
“You want to throw us out on the street?”
“Don’t exaggerate. Your parents have a dacha…”
“A dacha? In November? With a newborn?”
Vladimir looked away.
“We will find a way out.”
That evening, Maria returned home and froze at the doorway. All her things were neatly packed in suitcases and stood right in the hallway. Music and laughter came from the living room.
Aunt Sveta appeared in the doorway holding a glass.
“Oh, you’re back! Just in time to collect your things.”
“What is going on?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” the woman smirked. “We warned you that you were a temporary guest here. Your time is up.”
Uncle Dima came out of the living room holding a piece of cake.
“Oh, moving out? Finally! That cuckoo has been annoying in our nest.”
“Where is Vladimir?”
“Your husband is at the store buying champagne,” Uncle Dima laughed. “Today is our housewarming party!”
Maria took her suitcases and her daughter by the hand but stopped at the threshold before leaving.
“This is not over yet.”
“Really?” Aunt Sveta looked at her mockingly. “And what can you do, dear?”
District police officer Kirill Andreyevich listened carefully to Maria’s story and shook his head.
“The situation is complicated, but not hopeless. You have legal grounds to stay here, since you and the child are registered at this address.”
“So they can’t just evict me?”
“Exactly. Moreover, the sale of housing where a minor is registered is impossible without the consent of guardianship authorities.”
An hour later, the officer came to the apartment with Masha. Vladimir, Aunt Sveta, and Uncle Dima sat at the table with gloomy faces.
“Well, citizens,” the officer opened his notebook. “Let’s sort this out. Who organized the eviction of the woman with the child?”
“What eviction?” Uncle Dima was outraged. “She left on her own!”
“After you packed her things and started celebrating her departure?”
Aunt Sveta tried to justify herself:
“We have the right to live in this dwelling!”
“Maybe. But citizen Maria has full right to be here. As for the possible sale of the apartment…” the officer looked at Vladimir. “Do you know that you cannot sell a dwelling if a minor is registered there?”
“How come you can’t?” Vladimir turned pale.
“In the most direct way. Article 292 of the Civil Code. Violating a child’s rights may lead to fines or even criminal liability.”
Uncle Dima jumped up from his chair.
“This is nonsense! So now we are hostages of this…”
“Watch your language,” the officer warned. “And now everyone will help citizen Maria return her things.”
A month later, Maria’s life changed dramatically. After talking with the officer, she consulted a lawyer who explained her rights in detail. During the investigation, it turned out that the will shown by Aunt Sveta and Uncle Dima was forged. The original will of Petr Nikolaevich was much more surprising — by his will, the apartment passed not to his son, but to his daughter-in-law, “for care and kindness to the family.”
“That can’t be!” Vladimir reread the documents in the notary’s office. “Dad wouldn’t have done that!”
“Your father personally came to me two weeks before his death,” the notary explained. “He was in full mind and clearly expressed his wish. According to him, it was Maria who cared for him during his illness, not you.”
Maria silently accepted the documents. She felt that her father-in-law’s decision was fair. When Petr Nikolaevich was sick, it was she who brought him medicine, cooked diet food, and read books aloud.
That same day, Maria returned home with the apartment documents in hand. Aunt Sveta and Uncle Dima sat in the living room watching TV as if they owned the place.
“Pack your things,” Maria said curtly. “Right now.”
“Nonsense!” Uncle Dima waved without looking away from the screen.
Maria put a copy of the documents on the table.
Aunt Sveta abruptly stood and grabbed the papers.
“Forgery! This is a blatant fake!”
“Check with the notary yourself. The address is in the documents.”
Uncle Dima’s face turned red.
“A stranger woman! This is family housing!”
“It was before. Now it’s mine.” Maria calmly approached the wardrobe and began taking out their things. “If you don’t pack yourselves, I’ll help.”
“Vladimir!” Aunt Sveta shouted. “Will you allow this woman to throw out her own family?”
Vladimir stood in the doorway, pale and confused.
“Maria, let’s wait a bit? Maybe we can talk calmly?”
“We have been ‘talking’ for six months. Now it’s my turn to make decisions.”
She carefully folded the unwanted guests’ things into bags and took them out to the landing. Uncle Dima tried to stop her, but she sharply pushed him away.
“Don’t touch me. Otherwise, I’ll report an assault.”
“You’ll pay for this!” Aunt Sveta shouted, hurriedly putting on her coat.
“Try it,” Maria replied coldly and slammed the door.
Elena Mikhailovna sat in the kitchen, shocked by what was happening.
“Marochka, what about us? Where will I live?”
Maria sat next to her mother-in-law and took her hand.
“You’re staying, of course. You’re like a mother to me. But Vladimir needs a separate talk.”
Vladimir approached them, still unable to believe the reality.
“Maria, I don’t understand… How could dad…”
“Your father was much wiser than all of us,” Maria interrupted him. “He saw that you were incapable of protecting your family.”
“But I… I tried…”
“You were silent when they humiliated me. You agreed to sell the apartment and kick me out with the child. You never stood up for your mother when Uncle Dima insulted her.”
Vladimir lowered his eyes.
“I didn’t want to fight with the relatives…”
“And with me you could?” Maria stood up. “Vladimir, I’m filing for divorce. Tomorrow.”
“Maria, wait! Let’s talk…”
“Too late to talk. Three months ago, it might have been different.”
Vladimir tried to go to the bedroom, but Maria stopped him.
“Maria! Where will I sleep now?”
“In the room your relatives vacated,” came a voice from behind the door. “There’s a sofa there.”
“But that’s our room! We are husband and wife!”
“We were husband and wife. Tomorrow I’ll file the papers with the court.”
Vladimir looked at his mother helplessly. Elena Mikhailovna just sighed.
“Son, it’s your fault. A real man protects his family.”
“But mom…”
“Don’t play the weakling. At forty, it’s time to grow up.”
The divorce went quickly and quietly. Vladimir didn’t demand anything — the apartment now belonged to Maria by will, and they had no other joint assets.
“Can I see my daughter?” he asked at the last court hearing.
“Of course. You are her father.”
“Maybe we could try again? I’ve changed, Maria. I understand my mistakes.”
Maria shook her head.
“Too late, Vladimir.”
A year passed. Vladimir still lived in the room formerly occupied by Aunt Sveta and Uncle Dima. Maria left him there out of pity — after all, he was the father of her child.
But their lives ran on parallel paths. He came home from work, had dinner with his mother in the kitchen, watched TV, and went to sleep on the folding sofa. Maria lived in the large room with her daughter, hosted guests, and talked with friends.
“How are you doing?” her best friend Oksana asked.
“Fine. No time for a personal life yet.”
“And Vladimir? He lives nearby…”
“Vladimir is part of the past. We communicate only for the child.”
Vladimir heard this from the kitchen and grimaced. He tried several times to talk to his ex-wife about reconciliation, but Maria remained firm.
“We can be friends,” she said. “Good friends. But not lovers.”
The hardest part for Vladimir came when he decided to start a new relationship. Bringing another woman to a house where his ex-wife lived turned out to be impossible.
“Are you crazy?” Lena, whom he met at work, was outraged. “I won’t date a man who lives with his ex-wife!”
“But we’re not together! We even have different rooms!”
“I don’t care. It’s wrong.”
Such conversations were not isolated. Women didn’t understand his situation and didn’t want to be part of it.
Meanwhile, Maria blossomed. She began working remotely, traveling with her daughter. The apartment became stylish and cozy.
“Maria, you’ve become so beautiful,” Elena Mikhailovna said. “You just glow from the inside.”
“I’m happy,” Maria simply replied.
The daughter grew up a cheerful and kind child. No scandals, no stress, no strangers around.
One evening, Vladimir couldn’t stand it anymore and knocked on Maria’s door.
“Can we talk?”
“Of course. Come in.”
He entered the room that used to be theirs. Now nothing remained there that reminded of him.
“Maria, I know I behaved badly. But isn’t there any chance at all?”
“For what?”
“For us to be a family again. I’ve reconsidered a lot.”
Maria shook her head.
“Vladimir, you’re a good person, but you’re weak. And I will never forget how you helped pack my things while Aunt Sveta and Uncle Dima laughed at me.”
“I’ve changed!”
“Too late. I’ve changed too. I’ve become strong and independent. And I like it.”
Vladimir lowered his head. He understood he had lost his wife forever — because of his indecisiveness, fear of relatives, and inability to protect his family.
“We can be friends,” Maria added softly. “For the child’s sake. But don’t hope for a return. Besides, you should think about finding a new place — it’s necessary for both of us.”
Another month passed. Vladimir still lived in the small room, still hoping for a miracle. But Maria did not change her decision.
One evening, after putting the daughter to bed, Maria sat by the window and smiled. Now no one could force her to do what she didn’t want. No one could bring unwanted guests to her home. No one could make decisions for her.
Her daughter slept peacefully in the crib, Elena Mikhailovna read a book in the kitchen, and somewhere in the distant room Vladimir watched TV. Everything was calm and peaceful.
Maria took out her tablet and opened a dating site. Maybe it was time to think about a new stage in her personal life? But slowly, without pressure or rush. Now she had enough time to choose.
She was free. Finally, truly free.
