Irina rearranged the little cups of seedlings on the windowsill. Somewhere deep in the apartment, the muffled voices of her husband and mother-in-law drifted through the rooms.
They were talking about something again—without her. Lately, these secret conversations had become the norm.
“Ir, is lunch ready?” Sergey appeared in the kitchen doorway, phone in hand.
“Ten minutes,” Irina said, stirring the soup. “What were you and your mom talking about?”
Her husband flinched. His eyes darted away.
“Oh, nothing. Just nonsense.”
“What kind of nonsense, exactly?”
“Look, I don’t remember every little thing,” Sergey snapped, waving a hand irritably. “Go tell Mom lunch will be ready soon.”
Irina wiped her hands on her apron and went to her mother-in-law’s room. Valentina Petrovna was sitting at the table, hastily stuffing some papers into a folder.
“Valentina Petrovna, lunch will be ready in ten minutes.”
“Fine,” her mother-in-law said without looking up. “What, did you over-salt it again?”
“No, this time everything’s fine,” Irina replied, pretending not to notice the folder. “Were you and Sergey discussing something important?”
Valentina jerked her head up.
“And what business is it of yours? Can’t a son have private matters with his own mother?”
“Of course he can,” Irina shrugged. “It’s just… a month ago you were talking about swapping the apartment, and now—silence.”
“We’ll handle it without you,” Valentina cut her off. “Go. My blood pressure.”
At lunch, the silence was tense. Sergey stared at his phone. Valentina ate wordlessly, lips pressed tight.
“So, Seriozha… what’s happening with the apartment swap?” Irina tried a different angle.
Her husband choked.
“What about it?”
“Well, we were going to split up the living situation. You said it yourself—one one-bedroom for us, one one-bedroom for your mom.”
“Stay out of it,” Valentina jumped in. “We’ll decide.”
“And isn’t this my business?” Irina felt herself boiling over. “Who am I here, exactly?”
“Ir, why are you starting again?” Sergey grimaced. “It’s just not the right time.”
That evening, while Irina washed dishes, their neighbor Nina rang the doorbell.
“Ir, can you lend me some salt?”
“Come in,” Irina said, pulling out the salt. “Want some tea?”
“Sure.” Nina plopped onto a stool. “So how’s it going, the three of you together?”
“Fine,” Irina said, setting the kettle on. “It’s just… things are strange with this apartment situation.”
“What do you mean?”
“We were going to trade it in, and now my husband and mother-in-law are up to something, keeping me out of it.”
Nina looked away.
“You don’t know anything?” Irina asked, watching her closely.
“Look… I don’t want to gossip, but…” Nina lowered her voice. “I was at the notary’s yesterday, signing documents. And your mother-in-law was there too. She was talking about some inheritance—said she wanted to leave everything to her son.”
Something inside Irina dropped.
“Inheritance? You mean the apartment?”
“I don’t know for sure,” Nina said, stirring her tea. “But they were whispering. Maybe I’m wrong.”
After Nina left, Irina stood by the window for a long time. Thirty years of marriage—and her husband was planning something behind her back. With Mommy Dearest, like always.
The next day Irina noticed Sergey hiding his phone whenever she walked into the room. And her mother-in-law announced she was going “out on errands”—for the third time that week.
“To the notary again?” Irina couldn’t stop herself.
Valentina froze in the doorway.
“How do you…?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Irina said, turning to the window. “Give them my regards.”
That night Irina couldn’t sleep. Sergey snored beside her while she stared at the ceiling, thinking she’d become an empty spot in her own family.
“Why don’t I know anything?” Irina finally snapped over breakfast. “Who am I to you—some outsider?”
Sergey froze with his cup halfway to his mouth.
“What are you talking about?”
“About your little secrets with your mother! About the notary! About the papers you’re hiding!”
“Ir, why are you worked up first thing in the morning?” Sergey set the cup down. “What secrets?”
“Don’t treat me like an idiot, Seryozh,” Irina slammed her palm on the table. “Thirty years together, and you’re plotting something with your mom behind my back.”
Valentina walked into the kitchen right in the middle of the fight.
“What’s all this yelling?”
“Irina’s lost it,” Sergey spread his hands. “She’s imagining papers and documents.”
“And what about the notary?” Irina spun toward her mother-in-law. “Nina saw you there!”
Valentina’s face went pale.
“That gossip…” she pressed her lips together. “Don’t listen to every busybody.”
“So you were there!” Tears rushed up Irina’s throat. “What are you planning? You want to leave me without a home?”
“Calm down, you hysteric,” Valentina snapped, dropping into a chair. “Sergey, explain it to her.”
“Ir, it’s just paperwork for Mom’s apartment,” Sergey said, refusing to meet her eyes. “We’re not doing anything.”
“Then why are you hiding it?”
“Because you dramatize everything!” Sergey jumped up. “Like right now! I’m going to work—deal with it yourselves.”
He slammed the door. Irina and Valentina sat in heavy silence.
“I’ll find out anyway,” Irina said quietly.
Valentina smirked.
“If you were smarter, you’d stay out of it.”
That evening Irina called her friend Tanya.
“Tanya, I don’t know what to do,” she said, voice shaking. “They’re plotting something. Sergey is lying to my face.”
“Ask him straight,” Tanya said. “What, does he want a divorce?”
“I’m scared,” Irina admitted. “What if he really does?”
“Better to know the truth than torture yourself.”
But Irina still couldn’t bring herself to ask. Every evening she waited for Sergey to talk first, to explain. He came home late, ate in silence, and disappeared in front of the TV.
A week later Irina noticed she was losing weight—stress killed her appetite. She slept badly and jumped at every phone call.
On Friday Valentina announced she was going to a friend’s dacha for the weekend.
“Sergey, can we talk?” Irina tried to catch him in the kitchen.
“About what?” he said, already irritated.
“About us. About the apartment. About what’s happening.”
“Ir, how many times?” he snapped. “Nothing is happening!” He shoved past her and went into the other room.
On Saturday, when Sergey left “to run errands,” the landline rang. Irina picked up.
“Hello?”
“Good afternoon. This is Marina Viktorovna, notary public. May I speak with Irina Sergeyevna?”
Irina’s heart leapt.
“This is she.”
“Wonderful. I need you to come to my office on Monday to sign documents.”
“What documents?” Irina squeezed the receiver until her fingers went white.
“Regarding the division of property. Your husband and his mother have already been here, but without your signature we can’t complete the transaction.”
Irina sank slowly onto a chair.
“What transaction?”
“Didn’t they explain it to you?” The notary sounded surprised. “All right—let’s discuss it in person. I’ll see you Monday at ten. The address is…”
Irina wrote down the address with a trembling hand. When she hung up, the apartment went deafeningly quiet. So it was true. Sergey and Valentina had been scheming—and weren’t going to tell her until the very last second.
She sat in the armchair until evening. No TV, no dinner—just stared at the wall and thought.
When the front door slammed, Irina didn’t even turn her head.
“Why are you sitting in the dark?” Sergey flicked on the light switch. “And there’s no dinner?”
“The notary called me,” Irina said quietly.
Sergey froze in the doorway.
“What notary?”
“Marina Viktorovna. She’s expecting me Monday to sign documents about a division of property.”
His face twisted.
“Ir, I can explain…”
“What can you explain?” Irina finally looked at him. “That you and your mother decided everything behind my back?”
“It’s not like that! We wanted what was best!”
“Best for whom, Sergey? For me—or for you?”
Sergey collapsed into the chair across from her and rubbed his face with his hands.
“You don’t understand. Mom thinks—”
“I don’t give a damn what your mom thinks!” Irina shouted, standing up. “We’ve been married thirty years! Thirty! And you’re still under her heel!”
“Don’t yell!”
“I will yell!” Tears burned in her eyes. “Do you know how I felt all month? Like a traitor in my own home. Like a stranger!”
Sergey let out a heavy sigh.
“Mom said you’d cause a scene if you found out.”
“Found out what, Sergey? What?”
“We decided not to split into two apartments,” he said quietly, staring at the floor. “We’re going to sell this one and buy a house outside the city. For Mom and me.”
“And me?” Irina could barely breathe. “Am I supposed to go live on the street?”
“Why are you making it sound like that? You’d get compensation…”
“Compensation?!” Irina couldn’t believe her ears. “So you and your mother get the house, and I get cash and disappear wherever I want?”
“What’s the problem?” Sergey finally looked up at her. “We barely live like husband and wife anyway. You said yourself you wanted to live separately.”
“I wanted to live separately from your mother! Not from you!”
Just then Sergey’s phone rang. He pulled it out, saw the number, and declined the call.
“Mom,” he mumbled. “She wants to know how you reacted.”
“You planned everything,” Irina shook her head. “Even my reaction.”
“Ir, don’t turn it into a tragedy…”
“What am I supposed to do—celebrate that you’re throwing me out of your life?”
The phone rang again. Sergey sighed and answered.
“Yes, Mom. Yes, she knows. No, now isn’t a good time.”
Irina snatched the phone from his hand.
“Valya, I know everything!” she screamed into the receiver. “Your plan failed! On Monday I’m going to the notary and I’m learning my rights!”
“Calm down, you idiot!” her mother-in-law’s voice snapped back. “Give the phone to Sergey!”
“No! Enough ordering me around! I’m not your servant!”
Irina threw the phone onto the couch and turned to her husband.
“I’m going to Tanya’s for the weekend. And on Monday I’m going to the notary.”
“Ir, where are you going at night?” Sergey tried to stop her. “Let’s talk calmly.”
“Thirty years was enough time to talk!” Irina grabbed a bag and started throwing things into it. “And you know what, Sergey? I’m even glad this happened. Now I see who you really are.”
She bolted out of the apartment, not listening to Sergey shouting after her. It was cold outside, but Irina didn’t notice. One thought kept spinning in her head: How could he?
Tanya opened the door and gasped.
“Ir! What happened?”
“They wanted to leave me without a home,” Irina burst into tears on the doorstep. “Sergey and his mother. Buy themselves a house, and leave me with pennies.”
“Bastards!” Tanya dragged her inside. “Come on, I’ll make tea.”
Irina spent the whole weekend at Tanya’s. Sergey called nonstop, but she didn’t answer. On Sunday evening a text came: “Mom’s back. Let’s talk. Come home.”
“Don’t you dare,” Tanya snorted. “First go to the notary and find out what’s what.”
“That’s exactly what I’ll do,” Irina nodded.
On Monday at exactly ten, she walked into the notary’s office. Marina Viktorovna, an energetic middle-aged woman, shook her hand firmly.
“Come in, have a seat. Your husband and mother-in-law will be here any moment.”
“Do they know I’m coming?” Irina asked, surprised.
“Of course. I told them directly—no signatures, no deal.”
Five minutes later the door opened. Sergey and Valentina walked in. Valentina grimaced like she’d bitten into a lemon. Sergey wouldn’t meet Irina’s eyes.
“Great, everyone’s here,” the notary said, laying out the papers. “So, we have the sale of the apartment at the address—”
“Stop,” Irina interrupted. “I don’t understand what’s going on. No one has explained anything to me properly.”
Marina Viktorovna looked at the spouses in astonishment.
“You didn’t discuss this at home?”
“No,” Irina said firmly. “They didn’t tell me anything until you called.”
“All right,” the notary said, adjusting her glasses. “In short: your husband and his mother want to sell the apartment and buy a house outside the city. But the apartment is jointly owned by you and your husband, so nothing can be done without you.”
“And what do I get?” Irina gripped her bag.
“According to their paperwork, you receive monetary compensation—one quarter of the apartment’s value.”
“One quarter?!” Irina practically jumped. “I’m entitled to half!”
“Exactly,” the notary nodded. “That’s why I called you. These papers are nonsense.”
Valentina turned green.
“What is this insanity?! Sergey said they’d agreed!”
“Agreed on what?” Irina shot back. “I found out from the notary on Saturday that you were plotting something!”
The notary gave Sergey a stern look.
“You misled me. Documents like this without the wife’s informed consent are worthless.”
“I told you, Mom,” Sergey mumbled. “We should’ve spoken to Irina like human beings from the start.”
“So what now?” Valentina slammed the table. “Is everything ruined?”
“Not necessarily,” the notary said calmly. “You can draw up a new agreement—fairly.”
“No,” Irina said suddenly. “No agreements.”
Everyone stared at her.
“You know, I lived like a doormat for thirty years. Did what I was told. Put up with everything. And this is the thanks I get—you tried to shove me out with a quarter of the money.”
She stood up.
“Marina, I want to file for divorce. And divide the property—by law, through the courts.”
“Ir, what are you doing?” Sergey finally looked up. “We can work something out…”
“No, Sergey. We can’t. I don’t trust you by a penny anymore.”
“You ungrateful idiot!” Valentina shrieked. “We fed you, we clothed you, and you—”
“Shut it,” Irina cut her off. “You were always between us. And you, Sergey, always chose her—not me.”
“Irina is right,” the notary said unexpectedly. “You acted dishonestly. I can give you the contact of a good lawyer,” she added, turning to Irina.
Three months later the court divided the property. Irina received her lawful half and bought a small but cozy apartment in a neighboring district.
On moving day Tanya brought a cake and champagne.
“So—how is it?” Tanya asked, pouring the bubbly into glasses.
Irina looked around. Small, but hers. No one nagging. No one whispering behind her back.
“Damn, Tanya… it’s like I’ve been reborn,” she smiled. “For the first time in thirty years, I’m living for myself.”
“And Sergey?”
“He and his mommy still bought a little house. Smaller than they wanted, but they bought it. Let them live.”
“Do you regret anything?”
Irina shook her head.
“The only thing I regret is that I didn’t leave sooner. I wasted so many years on them.”
She raised her glass.
“To a new life. No looking back. No fear. My own life.”
“To your life,” Tanya said, clinking her glass against Irina’s.
And for the first time in many long years, Irina felt it—now everything was finally right
