Ksenia sat on the floor among the cardboard boxes, holding the keys to her very own apartment. Twenty-six years of life, and finally, she had a place of her own.
“I can’t believe this is mine,” Ksenia whispered, looking around the empty room.
Sunlight poured through the large windows. After years of renting tiny corners, the one-room flat seemed like a palace. Years of saving, saying no to entertainment, and eating cheap pasta had all led to this moment.
The next few months flew by in pleasant bustle. Ksenia renovated everything herself. She painted the walls a soft beige, pasted wallpaper with a delicate floral pattern. Every interior detail she chose with special care.
“Which lamp will you take?” the shop assistant asked.
“That one, with the shade,” Ksenia replied, pointing to an elegant light. “It’ll fit perfectly.”
The apartment was gradually turning into a cozy little nest. A soft sofa by the window, a small table, shelves with books. Ksenia woke up every morning with a smile. This was her space, her refuge.
The company’s corporate party was held at a restaurant in the city center. Ksenia didn’t particularly like such events, but it would have been awkward to refuse. The summer evening promised to be hot.
“Ksyusha, meet Oleg,” a colleague introduced her to a tall man. “He’s an engineer from the neighboring department.”
Oleg smiled and held out his hand. Twenty-eight, a pleasant face, a confident look. Something about him attracted Ksenia instantly.
“Nice to meet you,” Oleg said. “Have you been with the company long?”
“This is my second year,” Ksenia replied. “And you?”
“Five years. I love my job, though sometimes the projects keep me late.”
Their conversation flowed easily, effortlessly. Oleg turned out to be an engaging companion. He spoke about complex technical problems with such enthusiasm that Ksenia listened spellbound.
“I live with my mom and sister,” Oleg admitted later in the evening. “Since Dad passed away, I’ve been supporting them. Anya is still a student, and Mom’s retired.”
Ksenia nodded with understanding. His responsibility and care for his family spoke well of him.
Oleg began courting her persistently, but gently. He brought flowers, invited her to the movies, often stayed over at Ksenia’s until morning. Her apartment became his second home.
“I feel so calm here,” Oleg would say, lying on the sofa. “You’ve made it really cozy.”
“Thanks, I tried,” Ksenia replied.
A year later, Oleg officially moved in. He brought a few boxes of his things and set them in the hallway.
“Now we live together,” Oleg said, hugging Ksenia. “How do you like that?”
“I like it,” Ksenia answered, leaning against his shoulder.
One evening by the city lake, Oleg proposed. Dropping to one knee on the shore, he pulled out a small ring.
“Ksyusha, marry me,” Oleg declared solemnly. “I want to spend my whole life with you.”
Ksenia nodded, unable to speak. Happiness overwhelmed her.
The wedding was modest. A registry office ceremony, a small banquet with the closest relatives. The newlyweds were full of ambition and plans. Ksenia moved to a larger company for a higher position. Oleg received a promotion at his firm.
“I want kids,” Ksenia confessed one evening. “But in a one-bedroom, it’ll be too cramped.”
Oleg thought for a moment.
“Let’s take out a mortgage for a three-room flat,” he suggested. “We’ll rent yours out. The income will go toward the loan.”
Ksenia nodded slowly. Logical, reasonable.
Within a month, a spacious three-room apartment in a good district became their new home. Ksenia happily arranged the large rooms, choosing furniture for the future nursery. The one-room flat did indeed bring in a steady rental income.
Galina Petrovna appeared on their doorstep one Saturday morning with a bag of fresh pastries.
“You two are amazing!” the mother-in-law exclaimed, admiring the spacious living room. “Such a renovation, such furniture!”
Ksenia smiled and put the kettle on. Visits from her mother-in-law were always accompanied by long tea parties and conversations.
“Look at you two, already with two homes,” Galina went on, sitting down at the table. “Not every family can afford that.”
“We rent the one-bedroom out,” Ksenia explained, pouring tea. “It gives us a steady income that covers the mortgage. Everything’s planned out and works smoothly.”
Galina nodded thoughtfully and began asking about the rent. Ksenia answered willingly, proud of her family’s financial savvy.
A week later, her mother-in-law knocked again, this time with a jar of homemade jam and advice on caring for houseplants.
“My Sveta dreams of her own place,” Galina sighed, stirring her tea. “She’s uncomfortable living with me, she needs her own space for her personal life.”
Ksenia nodded sympathetically. At twenty-five, independence was natural.
“I understand,” Ksenia said gently. “For a young woman, having her own place is important.”
Galina watched her daughter-in-law closely, as though waiting for more. But Ksenia sipped her tea silently, offering no solutions.
The visits became more frequent. Sometimes pies, sometimes neighborhood gossip, but every talk circled back to Sveta’s housing problems.
“Can you imagine, the neighbor’s girl already bought an apartment,” Galina said one day, cutting her pie. “And my Sveta keeps waiting and waiting.”
Ksenia began to notice the tension in Galina’s voice. The hints grew sharper, the looks more insistent.
“Sveta is such a good girl,” her mother-in-law would add. “Hard-working, tidy. She’d be a wonderful mistress of a home.”
Two weeks of such visits turned into real psychological pressure. Ksenia grew nervous every time the doorbell rang. Galina seemed to sense when Oleg wasn’t home and always came then.
One Thursday, she showed up with a pot of soup and a determined expression. Ksenia led her into the kitchen, already dreading the conversation.
“Ksyusha, it’s time we had a serious talk,” Galina began, ignoring the tea.
Ksenia froze with her cup in hand. Her mother-in-law’s tone had completely changed.
“When are you going to transfer the apartment to my daughter?” Galina demanded sharply. “How much longer must we wait?”
Ksenia set her cup down with trembling hands. The audacity stunned her. Galina sat across the table, resolute, waiting for an answer.
“Galina Petrovna, are you serious?” Ksenia asked slowly, trying to stay calm. “Transfer my apartment to Sveta?”
“Absolutely serious,” the woman snapped, leaning back. “You see she has nowhere to live properly. And you have two apartments!”
Ksenia stood and walked to the window. Inside, she was boiling with outrage and hurt. How could anyone demand such a thing?
“That is my personal property,” Ksenia said firmly without turning. “Bought with my money, earned before marriage.”
“You selfish girl!” Galina exploded, jumping up. “Shameless! You have two apartments and won’t share?”
Ksenia spun around. Her mother-in-law’s face burned with righteous anger.
“Family means helping your own!” Galina yelled. “Sveta is Oleg’s sister! She needs the apartment more than some outsider!”
“Outsider?” Ksenia repeated, stunned. “I’m your son’s wife!”
“A wife is only temporary, but a sister is forever!” Galina blurted—and immediately realized she had said too much.
Fury rose in Ksenia. Her fists clenched.
“So you think I should give away my apartment? My premarital apartment? Give up my only guarantee of independence? Just because your daughter needs her own place? Which of us is really shameless here?”
“You should think of the family!” Galina shot back. “Think of the needs of close ones!”
“My apartment is untouchable,” Ksenia declared firmly. “And I’m not giving it to anyone!”
At that moment, familiar footsteps echoed in the hall. Oleg was home early. Galina’s expression shifted instantly, and she rushed to her son.
“Olezha, my son!” she wailed, clutching his arm. “Talk to your wife! She’s become so heartless!”
Oleg looked from his mother to the pale Ksenia in confusion.
“What’s going on?” he asked, taking off his coat.
“Your wife refuses to help your sister!” Galina cried. “You must make her share the apartment with Sveta!”
Oleg frowned and walked into the living room. Ksenia followed in silence, still in shock.
“Mom, explain calmly,” Oleg asked, sitting down.
His mother nervously launched into a story about her poor daughter’s struggles, how heartless Ksenia was.
“Sveta is an adult,” Oleg said slowly after listening. “Let her solve her housing issue herself.”
Galina froze, mouth open.
“And Ksenia’s apartment is truly untouchable,” Oleg added firmly. “It’s her property. No one has the right to demand it.”
“You’re taking sides against your own mother?” Galina gasped.
“I’m taking sides for fairness,” Oleg replied calmly, rising to his feet. “Mom, I think it’s time you went home. And don’t come again with such demands.”
Galina burst into tears and rushed to the door.
“Ungrateful!” she cried, pulling on her coat.
The door slammed shut. The couple was left alone. Ksenia sank onto the sofa, still unable to believe what had just happened.
“Thank you for standing up for me,” she said softly.
Oleg sat beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
“We’re a family,” Oleg replied simply. “And no one has the right to destroy what we’re building together.”
