Alina, we need to have a serious talk. Rita needs a residence registration, and you now have your own apartment,” Tatyana Vitalyevna placed her hands on the table, as if marking the importance of the moment.
Semyon sighed hopelessly. Sunday lunch at his parents’ had suddenly turned into a family council. He had a feeling this conversation wouldn’t end well.
“Why do you think I’m going to register Rita in my apartment?” Alina looked at her mother-in-law in surprise.
Tatyana Vitalyevna froze with a puzzled look on her face, as if she’d just heard something completely unreasonable. The cozy kitchen suddenly felt cramped and stuffy.
“Alinochka, it’s just a formality,” his mother adjusted the collar of her blouse. “Rita needs a registration to get a job. She’s just come back to the city, you understand, things are difficult.”
Alina shifted her gaze to her husband, looking for support, but he was studying the pattern on the tablecloth, carefully avoiding her eyes.
“Tatyana Vitalyevna, I’m very fond of Rita, but registration in an apartment isn’t just a stamp in a passport. It’s a legally significant act,” Alina tried to keep her voice calm, though inside everything was boiling.
“Oh my God, what complications!” her mother-in-law threw up her hands. “Before, people helped each other without all these legal technicalities.”
At that moment Rita walked into the kitchen — a tiny blonde with petulantly curved lips. She immediately felt the tension.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, sitting down at the table.
“About your registration, dear. For some reason Alina is having doubts,” Tatyana Vitalyevna gave her daughter-in-law a meaningful look.
“What’s there to think about?” Rita shrugged. “It’s five minutes at the public service center.”
Alina took a deep breath.
“Rita, registration gives you the right to use the living space. And the apartment from my grandmother is the only thing that I own.”
“Who even needs your little one-room flat!” Rita snorted. “I only need it for paperwork.”
“Vitalik, say something at least,” Tatyana Vitalyevna turned to her husband, who had been silently sitting behind his newspaper until then.
Viktor Andreyevich reluctantly put the paper aside.
“Maybe we shouldn’t put pressure on the kids? It’s their decision,” he said, earning a displeased look from his wife.
“Semyon,” Alina turned to her husband, “what do you think?”
Semyon finally raised his eyes.
“Maybe we really should help? Just for a while,” he said uncertainly, and Alina felt something snap inside her.
They went home in heavy silence. Alina stared out the bus window; next to her, Semyon nervously drummed his fingers on his knee.
“Do you seriously think I should register your sister in my apartment?” Alina finally asked.
“I didn’t say you should,” Semyon sighed. “I just don’t see a big problem. It’s only temporary.”
“Temporary things have a way of becoming permanent,” Alina shook her head. “And anyway, why exactly my apartment? Your parents have a three-room place, there’s plenty of space.”
“They already have relatives registered there on my father’s side,” Semyon replied. “It causes some issues with Mom’s social benefits.”
“How convenient,” Alina snorted. “So my apartment, of course, comes with no problems.”
That evening Alina called her friend Marina, who worked as a lawyer.
“Under no circumstances,” Marina said categorically after hearing the story. “Even temporary registration gives a person a ton of rights. And kicking someone off the registration without their consent is almost impossible, only through the courts. And even then it’s not guaranteed.”
“I knew it,” Alina sighed. “But Semyon says I’m exaggerating.”
“We had a client at work who registered his nephew,” Marina went on. “The guy ran up a bunch of debts, and the bailiffs froze the owner’s accounts. They spent three years in court!”
When Alina retold this conversation to her husband, he just waved it off:
“Our situation is different. Rita is my sister, not some distant relative.”
“That doesn’t change anything legally,” Alina insisted.
“Legally, maybe. But we’re family. Can’t you do a small favor?”
“A small one? Semyon, are you out of your mind? This is my only property!”
“Which you, by the way, got just like that, as an inheritance,” Semyon said unexpectedly sharply, and immediately fell silent when he saw his wife’s face.
“So that’s how you put it,” Alina said quietly. “ ‘Just like that’. Grandma left me the apartment because I took care of her for the last five years. Every weekend I crossed the whole city to see her, cooked, cleaned, bought her medicine. And you didn’t even want to go with me — you always had excuses.”
Semyon lowered his eyes guiltily.
“Sorry, that’s not what I meant.”
The next day, Tatyana Vitalyevna called.
“Alina, I’ve been thinking,” she began without any preamble. “Maybe you and Semyon should move into your grandmother’s apartment altogether? It’s in a good neighborhood. And Rita can live in your current place until she gets back on her feet.”
Alina was so outraged she couldn’t breathe for a second.
“Tatyana Vitalyevna, we are not moving. And Rita is not going to live in my apartment.”
“How stubborn you are!” his mother-in-law exclaimed. “I’m just suggesting an option that would be convenient for everyone.”
“For everyone except me and Semyon,” Alina cut her off. “Sorry, I have to go to work.”
In the staff room her colleagues were discussing an upcoming test, but Alina couldn’t concentrate. Her thoughts kept circling back to the conversation with her mother-in-law.
“Did something happen?” asked Valentina Petrovna, an older literature teacher. “You’re not yourself today.”
Alina briefly explained the situation.
“And your husband is on your side?” the colleague asked.
“He seems to understand me, but he shrinks in front of his mother,” Alina sighed. “It’s always been that way.”
“There’s nothing worse than a grown man who’s afraid of his mom,” Valentina Petrovna shook her head. “He should be protecting his family, not giving in to his relatives.”
That evening Alina’s mother called.
“Sweetheart, how are you? You’ve been acting strange these last few days, is everything alright?”
Alina couldn’t hold back and burst into tears, telling her about the pressure from her mother-in-law and her husband’s indecision.
“Mom, I don’t know what to do. If I refuse outright, I’ll ruin the relationship with Semyon’s family. And if I agree, I’ll lose my apartment.”
“You won’t lose relationships if you stand your ground,” said Irina Sergeyevna confidently. “You’ll lose respect if you cave in. And it’s about time Semyon grew up.”
After talking with her mother, Alina felt a surge of resolve. She waited for her husband to come home and suggested they have a serious talk.
“Semyon, I love you, but I will not register Rita in my apartment. Not temporarily, not permanently. That’s my final decision.”
Semyon sank wearily down onto the sofa.
“Alina, you have to understand, Mom won’t let this go. She calls me every day, says Rita is desperate, that no one will give her a decent job without registration.”
“And why is your mother solving Rita’s problems at my expense? Why doesn’t she use her contacts, look for other options?”
“Because this is the easiest way,” Semyon sighed. “She always chooses the simplest path. Especially when it comes to Rita.”
The following week Semyon’s friend Oleg called and suggested they meet. They hadn’t seen each other in almost a year — Oleg had moved to the suburbs, gotten married, and rarely came into the city.
Their meeting in a café dragged on until late. Semyon told him about his sister and Alina’s reaction.
“So what do you think?” he asked Oleg.
“I think your wife is absolutely right,” his friend said without hesitation. “I foolishly registered my cousin at my place once. You know how that ended?”
“How?”
“He took out loans, disappeared who knows where, and the bailiffs came to me, froze my accounts. I ended up paying off his debts just because he was registered in my apartment. And then I couldn’t remove him from registration for two years — he wouldn’t show up, and the court dragged on forever.”
“Well, Rita’s not like that,” Semyon said uncertainly.
“Everyone says that until they run into trouble,” Oleg shook his head. “You yourself told me she’s irresponsible, always changing jobs, living for the day. How do you know she doesn’t already have debts or other problems?”
That conversation made Semyon think. When he got home, he lay awake for a long time, replaying his friend’s words in his head.
The next morning something unexpected happened. As Alina was getting ready for work, the doorbell rang. On the doorstep stood Rita with a large sports bag.
“Hi!” she chirped. “I’m here just for a bit, is that okay?”
“Rita, you didn’t warn us,” Alina was taken aback. “I have lessons in an hour.”
“I’m not here for you, I’m here for Semyon,” Rita waved a hand. “I need to talk to him about something important. I’ll wait till he gets up.”
Alina eyed the bag with suspicion.
“And why so many things?”
“Well, I’m staying the night!” Rita smiled. “Didn’t Semyon tell you? We agreed I’d stay with you guys for a couple of days while I look for a room.”
“No, he didn’t say anything,” Alina felt her anger starting to boil.
When Semyon finally came out of the bedroom, he looked no less surprised.
“Rita? What are you doing here?”
“What do you mean, what? You said I could stay with you for a bit!”
“I said we’d talk about it, not that it was already decided,” Semyon muttered.
Alina silently grabbed her bag and headed for the door.
“You talk this over without me. I have classes.”
When she came back from work, Alina found that Rita had fully settled in: her things were spread out in the living room, there was a cup with leftover tea on the kitchen table, and the sister-in-law herself was sitting in front of the TV, flipping channels.
“Where’s Semyon?” Alina asked.
“He went to our parents’,” Rita answered without looking away from the screen. “Said he’d be back by dinner.”
Alina went into the bedroom, took out her phone, and dialed her husband.
“Why did you leave and just abandon your sister in our apartment?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
“Mom called, asked me to help with the computer,” Semyon said apologetically. “I thought I’d be back before you.”
“Semyon, we did not agree that Rita would live with us. I do not agree to this.”
“It’s just for a couple of days, until she finds a room,” Semyon sighed. “I can’t just throw my sister out onto the street.”
“And you didn’t think you should discuss this with me first?”
“Alina, I was going to, it just all happened so spontaneously…”
After the call, Alina went back to the living room. Rita was still calmly watching TV as if nothing had happened.
“Rita, we need to talk,” Alina sat down in the armchair opposite. “I understand your situation, but you can’t stay here to live.”
“Why not?” Rita finally tore herself away from the screen. “There’s enough space.”
“It’s not about space. This is our apartment, mine and Semyon’s, and I’m not ready for anyone else to live here.”
“But it’s just temporary,” Rita shrugged. “As soon as I find a job, I’ll move out.”
“And why can’t you live with your parents while you look for a job?”
Rita grimaced.
“You have no idea how hard it is to live with Mom. She constantly controls my every move — where I’m going, who I’m meeting. I’m an adult, and she treats me like a child.”
Something clicked in Alina’s head. Suddenly the whole picture came together.
“Rita, tell me honestly, do you really only need registration for work, or do you want to live in my apartment?”
Rita looked away.
“Well, it would be convenient to have my own place…”
“That’s what I thought,” Alina shook her head. “And what about your ex? Why did you two break up?”
“Didn’t get along,” Rita replied quickly.
“And that’s all? No other reasons?”
“Alina, why do you care?” Rita suddenly snapped. “That’s my personal business.”
That evening Semyon came home and Alina led him into the kitchen for a serious conversation.
“Semyon, I’m almost sure the whole registration story is just a pretext. Your sister wants to live in my apartment.”
“But she really does have problems with getting a job,” Semyon objected.
“And you never wondered why she came back from her common-law husband? Something here doesn’t add up.”
Semyon sighed and finally admitted:
“Fine, I didn’t tell you everything. Rita had some financial problems in that city. She doesn’t tell me the details, but it looks like debts are involved. Mom gave her money so she could come back.”
“And now she wants to stash her daughter in my apartment so she doesn’t have to deal with her problems,” Alina shook her head. “Perfect.”
The next day Alina took a day off and went to her grandmother’s apartment. She’d been meaning for a while to sort through the remaining things and decide what to do with the place — rent it out or sell it.
Opening the door, Alina was surprised to find that someone had been there: there were dirty dishes in the sink, an open bag of chips on the table, and a pillow and blanket on the couch.
Her heart started pounding wildly. She quickly checked the apartment — nothing was missing, but someone had clearly spent the night there. Only two people had keys: her and…
Alina took out her phone and dialed Semyon.
“Do you still have the keys to Grandma’s apartment?” she asked without preamble.
“Yeah, you gave me a spare set when we were doing the repairs,” he replied.
“Do you still have them?”
“Of course. Why?”
“Someone’s been in the apartment. And from the looks of it, spent the night there.”
There was a pause.
“I’ll call you back,” Semyon finally said and hung up.
Half an hour later, her phone rang again.
“Alina, don’t be mad,” Semyon started cautiously. “I gave Rita the keys for one night. She said she urgently needed somewhere to sleep because she had a fight with Mom.”
“Without asking me?” Alina’s voice shook with anger. “You gave the keys to MY apartment to someone who has no rights to it?”
“Rita isn’t a stranger, she’s my sister…”
“To me and in the eyes of the law she is a stranger with no rights whatsoever to my property!”
Alina ended the call and immediately called a locksmith to change the locks.
That evening there was a real scandal. Semyon tried to justify himself, saying he only wanted to help his sister; Alina accused him of betrayal; later they were joined by Tatyana Vitalyevna and Rita, to whom Semyon had rashly told what had happened.
“I don’t understand why you’re reacting like this,” his mother raged. “Rita just needed somewhere to sleep, what’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is that no one asked my permission!” Alina shot back. “It’s my property, and I’m the only one who decides who can be there.”
“How petty you are,” Rita snorted. “It was just one night.”
“One night today, a week tomorrow, and then you’ll get registered there and live for years,” Alina countered.
“There!” Tatyana Vitalyevna exclaimed triumphantly. “She admitted herself she doesn’t want to help Rita with registration because she’s greedy!”
“Mom, enough,” Semyon tried to intervene. “Alina is right, we should have asked her first.”
“And whose side are you on?” his mother flared up. “Your own shirt is closer to your skin, huh?”
“I’m not on anyone’s side, I’m trying to make peace,” Semyon said tiredly.
“You can’t sit on two chairs at once, son,” his mother shook her head. “If your wife won’t help your own sister in a difficult moment, what peace can there be?”
Rita let out a theatrical sigh and dropped into an armchair.
“Fine, I get it. Alina cares more about her apartment than about family. I’ll look for other options.”
“Exactly,” Alina nodded. “I’m not going to put the only thing I have at risk for your convenience.”
That evening, Tatyana Vitalyevna and Rita left, leaving a tense silence hanging between the spouses. Semyon kept quiet, avoiding his wife’s gaze.
“Do you also think I’m greedy and heartless?” Alina finally asked.
“No,” Semyon shook his head. “I just don’t understand why we can’t help close people.”
“Because this ‘help’ could turn into serious problems for me. And I’m not sure your family would come to my rescue if something went wrong.”
A week passed in strained silence. Semyon and Alina spoke only when necessary, Rita didn’t show up, and Tatyana Vitalyevna called her son every day, but avoided talking to her daughter-in-law.
On Friday evening, the doorbell rang. A young man Alina didn’t know was standing there.
“Good evening,” he said. “I’m looking for Rita. I was told she might be here.”
“And who are you?” Semyon asked, opening the door.
“My name is Nikolai. I’m… Rita’s former common-law husband,” the guest hesitated.
Alina and Semyon exchanged glances.
“Come in,” Alina said at last. “Rita isn’t here, but I think we do have something to discuss.”
Over tea, Nikolai told them his version of the story.
“We didn’t split up because of ‘incompatible personalities’, like she tells everyone,” he sighed. “Rita took out loans in my name. I found out by accident when the bank called. Turned out she’d taken several loans using my documents.”
“How is that even possible?” Semyon was stunned.
“We had a shared computer, I saved my passwords,” Nikolai shrugged. “Plus she knew all my details, obviously. When I found out, Rita just packed up and disappeared. And the debts were left to me.”
“And how big are the debts?” Alina asked carefully.
“About three hundred thousand,” he said gloomily. “I thought she’d gone back to her parents, but they told me Rita was staying with her brother. That’s why I’m here.”
Semyon looked shocked.
“I can’t believe this,” he muttered. “Rita would never do something like that.”
“Check your accounts and documents,” Nikolai advised. “And be very careful with registration. I’ve heard she’s looking for a place to get registered. With registration she’ll be able to take out new loans.”
After Nikolai left, Semyon sat silently for a long time, then suddenly grabbed his head in his hands.
“I’m such an idiot,” he said. “I kept defending my sister, got angry at you for not trusting her, and she… she really was trying to use your apartment.”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Alina said gently. “We need to get to the bottom of everything first.”
The next day they decided to visit Semyon’s parents and talk everything through. Tatyana Vitalyevna greeted them coldly, especially Alina.
“What brings you here?” she asked, letting them in. “Decided to apologize to Rita?”
“Mom, we need to talk seriously,” Semyon said. “Nikolai, Rita’s ex, came to see us yesterday.”
“So what?” she shrugged. “That lazy good-for-nothing still has the nerve to show his face? He left Rita in a difficult situation!”
“He told us a different version of their break-up,” Semyon went on. “According to him, Rita took out loans in his name and ran away.”
Viktor Andreyevich, who had been silent until then, suddenly perked up:
“What do you mean, ‘took out loans’?”
Alina and Semyon retold Nikolai’s story. As they spoke, the expression on Tatyana Vitalyevna’s face shifted from indignation to confusion, and then to something like fear.
“That’s a lie,” she said at last, but without her former certainty. “Rita couldn’t have done that.”
“Where is she now?” Semyon asked.
“At a friend’s place,” his mother replied. “She said that until she finds a job and a place to live, she’ll be staying with various acquaintances.”
Suddenly, Viktor Andreyevich got up and left the room. He came back with a folder of documents.
“I checked our accounts and found some strange transactions,” he said, spreading the papers on the table. “There have been several transfers from our card to unknown accounts. I thought it was some sort of bank error, I was going to look into it next week.”
His wife turned pale and dropped into a chair.
“When were these transfers?” she asked in a trembling voice.
“Over the last two weeks,” Viktor answered. “Since Rita came back.”
A heavy silence fell over the room, broken only by the ringing of Semyon’s phone.
“It’s Marina, one of Rita’s friends,” he said, looking at the screen. “Weird… how did she get my number?”
He picked up, and as he talked, his face grew more and more tense. When he hung up, he slowly lowered the phone.
“What happened?” Alina asked anxiously.
“There is no friend,” Semyon said darkly. “She’s a neighbor at the hostel where Rita rented a bed. Rita left her my number as the contact of a relative. Rita’s in trouble — the hostel administrator found out she tried to use someone else’s bank card to pay. They called the police.”
“Oh my God,” whispered Tatyana Vitalyevna. “How did it come to this?”
Viktor Andreyevich stood up resolutely:
“We’re going there right now. We’ll sort this out.”
At the police station they found Rita tearful and confused. When she saw her family, she burst into even louder sobs.
“I didn’t mean to!” she sobbed. “It just happened! I had no choice!”
After long conversations with the police it turned out the situation was much more serious than it seemed. Rita really had taken out several loans in Nikolai’s name and, after returning home, started using her parents’ cards. The total amount of debt exceeded half a million rubles.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” asked Viktor when they finally stepped outside. Thanks to his connections and a promise to repay the damage, they managed to get the hostel administrator to withdraw his complaint. “We could have helped.”
“I was scared,” Rita mumbled. “At first I thought I’d manage it on my own. Then it just got worse and worse, and I didn’t know how to confess.”
“And that’s why you wanted registration in Alina’s apartment? To take out new loans?” asked Tatyana Vitalyevna.
Rita lowered her head.
“I thought that if I got registration and a job, I’d gradually pay everything back. No one would even find out.”
“And you were planning to live in that apartment too, right?” Semyon asked.
“I couldn’t go back to my parents,” Rita whispered. “I was afraid the truth would come out.”
On the way home, Viktor made a decision.
“I’m taking control of this,” he said firmly. “Tomorrow you and I are going to the bank, we’ll find out the exact amount of the debt and make a repayment plan. And you”—he turned to his daughter—“start working at my company on Monday. No excuses, no tantrums. You’ll work until you pay back every last kopeck.”
Rita nodded silently, for the first time truly looking ashamed.
A month passed. Alina and Semyon were sitting in their kitchen, talking over everything that had happened.
“I never thought it would all turn out like this,” Semyon sighed. “Rita was always a bit flighty, but to go this far…”
“The important thing is that now she’s on the right track,” Alina said softly. “Your father’s amazing for taking the situation in hand.”
Viktor really had been firm. He got his daughter an administrative job in his company, monitored her every step, and drew up a strict repayment schedule. Rita seemed to finally realize how serious things were and worked without complaining.
But relations with Tatyana Vitalyevna remained strained. She still couldn’t bring herself to admit she’d been wrong about Alina, though she stopped insisting on the registration.
“Your mom still thinks I should have helped Rita,” Alina said.
“It’s hard for her to admit she was wrong,” Semyon replied. “But she’s stopped putting pressure on us, and that’s already progress.”
“You know,” Alina squeezed her husband’s hand, “I realized something important from all this.”
“What?”
“That we need to learn to set boundaries. Not just with your relatives, but in life in general. Otherwise we’ll always be solving other people’s problems at our own expense.”
Semyon nodded thoughtfully.
“You’re right. I’ve been letting Mom influence our decisions for too long. I thought it was a sign of respect, but really I was just afraid of conflict.”
The doorbell rang. On the doorstep stood Viktor with a big box.
“I thought I’d drop by,” he said, stepping into the apartment. “Brought you a pie from Tatyana. She didn’t come herself, of course, but she sends her regards.”
Over tea, Viktor told them that Rita was slowly changing, becoming more responsible, though she was still far from fully mending her ways.
“And how’s Nikolai?” Semyon asked. “Did he disappear again?”
“No, we’re keeping in touch,” his father replied. “I insisted that Rita pay him back first. He’s a good guy, actually. It’s a pity things turned out like that.”
When Viktor was about to leave, he suddenly turned to Alina:
“You know, I want to apologize to you. I should’ve stopped Tatyana when she started pressuring you about the registration. It’s just that… over the years you get used to keeping quiet for the sake of peace.”
“It’s okay,” Alina smiled. “I understand.”
“No, it’s not okay,” Viktor shook his head. “You were right, and all of us were pressing you. If it hadn’t been for your principles, who knows how this all would’ve ended.”
After he left, Semyon hugged Alina.
“Thank you for being stronger than me. I should have supported you from the very beginning.”
“Better late than never,” Alina replied. “What matters is that we’re on the same side now.”
Six months later, Alina decided to rent out her grandmother’s apartment and put the money aside for the future. Rita continued working for her father and gradually paying off her debts.
Alina went to the next family dinner at Semyon’s parents’ with some tension — meetings with Tatyana Vitalyevna were still a bit strained. But this time her mother-in-law greeted them unusually warmly.
The whole family gathered at the table: Viktor, Tatyana, Rita, Semyon, and Alina. The atmosphere was tight, but everyone was doing their best to keep the conversation polite.
“Alina,” Tatyana suddenly said, “I wanted to talk to you.”
Everyone at the table fell silent. Alina looked at her warily.
“Yes, Tatyana Vitalyevna?”
“I…” she was clearly choosing her words, “I wanted to say that you were right about the apartment. We shouldn’t have insisted on Rita’s registration.”
The confession clearly didn’t come easily — it showed in her tense face and the way she avoided looking her daughter-in-law in the eye.
“Thank you,” Alina answered sincerely. “That means a lot to me.”
“Just try to understand,” Tatyana went on, “my children have always come first for me. I wanted what was best for them.”
“I understand,” Alina nodded. “But sometimes the help a person needs isn’t what they’re asking for, but what will actually do them good.”
“Like with Dad, me, and Rita,” Semyon added. “Real help is when you make a person stand on their own feet, not when you fix everything for them.”
Rita, who had been sitting nearby, said quietly:
“I owe you an apology too, Alina. I behaved horribly and almost dragged everyone into even bigger problems. Thank you for not giving in.”
Alina smiled. She hadn’t expected those words from her sister-in-law.
“It’s alright, Rita. The important thing is that you’ve understood what happened and are putting it right now.”
On the way home, walking with Semyon, Alina felt a strange lightness. Things with her mother-in-law weren’t fully fixed — too much had been said and done for everything to be simply forgotten. But a start had been made.
“You know what I realized?” she said to her husband. “Sometimes you have to go through a conflict to build healthy relationships.”
“You mean with Mom?” Semyon asked.
“With her too. We’ll never be best friends, but at least now there’s some respect between us. She understands that I’m not the enemy of your family, I just have my own boundaries.”
Semyon hugged his wife.
“And that’s good. I’m proud of you, Alina. You didn’t cave under pressure, but you also didn’t turn everything into war. I’ve learned a lot from you.”
Alina leaned into him. She knew there would still be difficulties and conflicts ahead — that’s how families are. But now she was sure they would handle them together.
And her grandmother’s apartment remained her reliable back-up — a reminder of how important it is to defend your boundaries and not go along with other people’s wishes, even when they come from those closest to you.
