“Well, what do you say, Sveta?” mother-in-law Tamara Ivanovna gently stirred her tea with a spoon, not taking her eyes off her daughter-in-law. “Our Olechka has launched a new project. She’s got her own advertising agency now.”
Svetlana forced a smile as she kept slicing tomatoes for the salad. Every movement of the knife seemed to stab her inside.
“Just imagine,” the mother-in-law went on, clearly savoring the moment, “fresh out of university, and already running her own business. That’s what I call determination!”
“Good for Olya,” Svetlana managed, trying not to show how those words cut her.
“And you’re still working for someone else.” Tamara Ivanovna shook her head with feigned sympathy. “Never thought about starting your own business?”
Svetlana slowly set the knife aside. Inside, she was boiling, but only nodded.
“Of course I’ve thought about it.”
“So why not? Olya’s three years younger than you, and already an entrepreneur. She’s got clients lining up.”
Svetlana turned toward the stove, trying to hide her expression. Her hands trembled as she lit the burner under the pan.
“Yes, I heard. Vladislav told me.”
“Exactly!” Tamara Ivanovna smirked with satisfaction. “My son is proud of his sister. Aren’t you?”
Svetlana pressed her lips together tightly. Her forced smile was on the verge of shattering.
“I’m proud too. Very happy for Olya.”
A few months later, Svetlana lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Vladislav was nearby, putting shirts into the wardrobe.
“You know, Olya’s doing brilliantly,” he said without turning. “Her client base grows every week.”
Svetlana turned her head toward her husband.
“That’s good.”
“She’s even thinking of buying her own apartment,” Vlad said proudly, looking at his wife. “Maybe even a new car.”
Svetlana sat up, pulling her knees to her chest.
“And is she going to repay your mother?”
Vlad froze with a shirt in his hands.
“Repay what?”
“What do you mean what?” Svetlana frowned. “Tamara Ivanovna gave her more than two million to launch and promote the business.”
Vlad waved it off and went on hanging clothes.
“That’s nothing. Mother doesn’t need it. Let Olya get properly on her feet first.”
“Two million is nothing?” Svetlana couldn’t hide the disbelief in her voice.
“For family—yes.” Vlad finally turned. “We’re not strangers.”
Svetlana lowered her gaze to the blanket. Something inside her twisted painfully.
The next six months dragged on endlessly. At first, Vladislav kept enthusiastically recounting his sister’s successes—new contracts, expanding staff, ambitious plans. Svetlana listened in silence, nodding at the right places, while secretly fuming inside.
But gradually something changed. Vlad became more pensive, distracted. His answers about Olya’s business grew vague.
“She’s working,” he’d say, looking away. “Everything’s as usual.”
“And the new projects?” Svetlana would ask cautiously.
“There are projects,” Vlad shrugged. “Things are moving along.”
But Svetlana could tell something was wrong. He seemed tense, often lost in thought mid-conversation.
One evening, she was reading in the living room when Vladislav collapsed heavily onto the couch beside her. The cushions sagged under his weight.
“Olya’s in trouble,” he said bluntly.
Svetlana set the book aside and turned to him.
“What kind of trouble?”
“Competitors are squeezing her,” Vlad rubbed his face with his hands. “They’re undercutting prices, stealing clients. Some even threaten her.”
“Threaten?” Svetlana frowned. “What do you mean threaten?”
“Different ways. Saying they’ll shut her down if she doesn’t leave the market.” He gave her a grim look. “Olya’s depressed. Debts are piling up because clients keep leaving.”
Svetlana sat in silence, absorbing this.
“And now what?”
“I don’t know,” Vlad lowered his head. “She says she may have to close the business.”
Two more months passed. Vlad grew even more withdrawn, often taking phone calls in a hushed voice in another room. Svetlana saw how tense he was but chose not to pry.
That morning they ate breakfast in silence. Vlad chewed his sandwich mechanically, staring out the window. Svetlana was finishing her coffee when the doorbell rang.
Vlad jumped so sharply he dropped his mug.
“I’ll get it!” He sprang up and almost ran to the door.
Puzzled, Svetlana followed him. In the hallway stood Tamara Ivanovna—with two large suitcases at her side.
“What’s this?” Svetlana asked, eyeing the luggage.
Her mother-in-law burst into tears.
“I sold my apartment!” she sobbed. “Now I can only live with you!”
Svetlana froze in shock.
“You sold it?!”
“I had to,” Tamara Ivanovna dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. “Olechka’s in debt, creditors were threatening. I paid everything off, gave them the apartment.”
Vladislav wrapped his arm around his mother’s shoulders.
“Mom, everything will be fine. Right, Sveta?”
Svetlana nodded slowly, still not fully grasping the situation.
“And Olya? Did she close the business?”
“She did,” the mother-in-law nodded. “Now she’s looking for work. But who needs a failure?”
“But you should be living with her. You sold your apartment for her,” Svetlana said carefully.
“With her? In a rented studio? There’s barely any room there! But here, a three-room flat—plenty of space for everyone.”
Svetlana looked at her husband. He avoided her gaze.
“Mom’s right,” Vladislav finally said. “There’s space here. She’ll stay with us for now.”
“For now,” Svetlana echoed.
A month of cohabitation turned into torment. Tamara Ivanovna grew bolder, acting as though the apartment were hers. She rearranged furniture, criticized Svetlana’s cooking, gave endless advice about housekeeping.
Svetlana clenched her teeth and endured. But inside, resentment grew.
At another dinner, the subject of Olya came up again.
“Olechka still can’t find a job,” sighed Tamara Ivanovna, spooning buckwheat onto her plate. “Rent is expensive, plus utilities and groceries. Money’s barely enough.”
Svetlana calmly cut her meat.
“Who has it easy these days?”
“Exactly!” Tamara brightened. “So I was thinking—what if Olechka moves in here too? Three rooms, plenty of space.”
The knife slipped from Svetlana’s hand, clattering onto the plate. She slowly lifted her eyes to her mother-in-law.
“What do you mean, move in?”
“As in, move in for good,” Tamara said as if it were the most natural thing. “She’ll save on rent and help around the house.”
Something inside Svetlana snapped. Months of bottled irritation, humiliation, pain—all burst out.
“No!” she said sharply, rising from the table.
“Sveta—” Vladislav began, but his wife cut him off.
“No! Enough! I won’t tolerate this in my own home!”
“Sveta, calm down,” Tamara feigned fright. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you leaving my home! Today! And I don’t want to see your daughter here either!”
Vladislav shot up.
“What’s gotten into you?” he glared. “That’s my mother!”
“Then let her live wherever she wants—just not in my apartment!”
“Ours!” Vlad advanced on her. “We’re family!”
“Family?” Svetlana laughed bitterly. “You only think about your relatives! When did you ever think about me?”
“What’s wrong with you?” Vlad clenched his fists. “No conscience left? My mother’s asking for help!”
“Help?” Svetlana’s voice trembled with fury. “She poured two million into her daughter’s failed business. Then sold her apartment for her. And now I’m supposed to pay the price?”
“Don’t you dare talk about my family like that!” Vlad shouted. “Olya tried, she just wasn’t lucky!”
“Not lucky?” Svetlana threw up her hands. “I wasn’t lucky either—with a husband like you and a mother-in-law like her!”
“Mom’s right,” Vlad stood firm. “And we’ll take Olya in too. She has nowhere else to go.”
“And where will I go when you drive me out of my own home?” Svetlana shook with rage. “Or do I not even count as a person to you?”
“Don’t be dramatic,” Vlad waved her off. “No one’s driving you out.”
Something inside her finally broke.
“Then you can all leave together! This is the end! Our family is over! This marriage is over! And you’re all leaving my apartment today!”
Tamara burst into loud sobs.
“God, how cruel! Throwing us out on the street!”
“No one’s throwing you on the street,” Svetlana replied coldly. “Go to your daughter. Or rent a place.”
“You’re heartless!” the mother-in-law wept. “Ungrateful! I treated you like my own daughter!”
“Like a daughter?” Svetlana flared. “You humiliated me every chance you got! Rubbed Olya’s successes in my face! And now you want to take over my apartment too?”
Vladislav stared at her, fists clenching and unclenching.
“So that’s your final decision?” he growled through his teeth. “You’re throwing us out?”
“Final,” Svetlana answered firmly. “The sooner, the better.”
“Fine.” Vlad’s voice turned to steel. “Just remember—there’ll be no going back.”
“I don’t want to,” Svetlana crossed her arms. “I don’t need a family like this.”
An hour later, her mother-in-law was packing, sobbing loudly. Vladislav silently stuffed clothes into a sports bag. Svetlana stood in the bedroom doorway, watching.
“You’ll regret this,” he said, zipping the bag. “Where will you go without me?”
“Anywhere,” Svetlana replied calmly. “As long as it’s not with you.”
“You’re making a mistake,” Vlad hefted the bag. “You won’t survive alone. You’ll be begging on your knees to take you back.”
“Don’t count on it,” Svetlana stepped aside to let him pass.
When the door closed behind him, she leaned against it and drew a deep breath. Silence filled the apartment.
That very day she changed the locks. In the evening, she threw open all the windows, letting in fresh air. The apartment seemed to come alive, to breathe again.
“Everything will be fine,” Svetlana said aloud, gazing at the sunset outside the window.
And for the first time in a long while, she truly believed it.
