Oksana stood by the panoramic window of her living room and looked down at the city spread out below. Thirty-five years old, a successful career at an IT company, her own three-room apartment in a new building. She had earned it all herself, without anyone’s help.
The road hadn’t been easy. After university she worked around the clock, took on any projects she could, learned new things, grew professionally. Her parents didn’t help financially—they barely had enough money themselves. Her younger sister, Irina, lived with them in their two-room apartment on the outskirts, not particularly eager to become independent.
Oksana rented for eight years, saving every kopek. When she finally scraped together the down payment for a mortgage, she was overjoyed. Five more years of payments—and the apartment became entirely hers. Truly hers. Earned with sweat and blood.
Now that her career was established and the mortgage was paid off, Oksana started thinking about her personal life. Work consumed all her time; there was simply none left for relationships. But in recent months she had begun seeing Igor, a colleague from a neighboring department. Nothing serious yet, but it felt good to remember that life wasn’t only about work.
Her phone rang, pulling her out of her thoughts. Her mother’s name lit up the screen.
“Hello, Mom.”
“Oksanochka, hi! I have news!” Elena Petrovna sounded excited. “Irina is getting married!”
Oksana sat down on the sofa.
“Seriously? When?”
“In a month! Can you imagine? She met Dmitry at a corporate party three months ago, and now they’ve decided to get married!”
“That was fast…”
“Well yes—young, in love. Why drag it out? We’ll send you an invitation this week. You’ll come, right?”
“Of course I will. Congratulate Ira for me.”
“I will, sweetie. All right, I have to run—so much to do! We need to organize the wedding!”
Her mother hung up. Oksana leaned back against the sofa. Irina was getting married. Unexpected, but why not? Her sister was twenty-eight—perfect timing.
The next two weeks passed in their usual rhythm: work, seeing Igor, occasional calls to her parents. Oksana bought Irina a gift—a set of quality dishes her sister had been dreaming of for a long time.
And then her mother called again.
“Oksana, I need to talk to you. I’ll come over tonight, okay?”
“Sure, Mom. Is Dad coming with you?”
“No, I’m coming alone. I’ll be there around seven.”
“Okay, I’ll be waiting.”
Oksana ended the call and frowned. Something in her mother’s voice had seemed strange—tense, uncertain. Or was she imagining it?
That evening she made a light dinner—salad, baked chicken—and bought a good wine her mother liked. She set the table in the living room and lit candles. If her mother had come to talk, at least the atmosphere could be pleasant.
Elena Petrovna arrived right at seven. Oksana opened the door and hugged her.
“Come in, Mom. Everything’s ready.”
Her mother walked into the living room, looked around, sat down at the table, and unfolded her napkin onto her lap. Oksana poured the wine and served the salad.
“So,” Oksana began, trying to lighten the mood, “how are the wedding preparations going?”
“They’re going, they’re going…” Elena Petrovna took a sip of wine. “Listen, Oksana—actually I wanted to talk to you about something else.”
“About what?”
Her mother paused, choosing her words. Then she exhaled and looked her daughter in the eyes.
“You see… after the wedding Irina and Dmitry will live separately. They need their own apartment.”
“Logical,” Oksana nodded. “Are you and Dad going to help them?”
“That’s exactly it. Your father and I have been thinking… and, well—we decided to give them our apartment.”
Oksana froze with her fork halfway to her mouth.
“Give it to them? What do you mean?”
“Well, they’ll move in there. A young family needs to start their life. And we…” Elena Petrovna paused again. “And we’ll move in with you.”
Oksana slowly set her fork down. For several seconds she was silent, processing what she’d heard.
“Mom… did I understand you correctly? You and Dad want to move in with me?”
“Yes. You have plenty of space—three rooms, and you live alone. We don’t need much. We’ll take one room.”
“Wait,” Oksana raised a hand. “Why can’t Irina and Dmitry rent a place? They both work.”
“Rent?” her mother grimaced. “Why throw money away? Rent is very expensive now. It’s better for them to live in our apartment.”
“But that’s your apartment. Where will you live?”
“I’m telling you—at your place. Oksana, don’t make this complicated. We’re family. We should help each other.”
Oksana leaned back in her chair. Her head was spinning from the surprise. Her mother spoke so calmly, as if she were talking about buying bread, not moving in.
“Does Dad know about this plan?”
“Of course he does. We decided together. He agrees.”
“So you’ve already decided everything—without me?”
Elena Petrovna shrugged.
“We knew you wouldn’t be against it. You’ve always been so reasonable, so understanding.”
Under the table, Oksana clenched her fists. A wave of outrage rose inside her. They had decided for her—simply assumed she was obligated to take them in.
“Mom, I’m against it.”
“What?” Elena Petrovna lifted her eyebrows in surprise. “Why?”
“Because this is my apartment. I earned it myself. I like living alone. I value my personal space.”
“But it’s only temporary! Until Irina and Dmitry get on their feet!”
“And how long is ‘temporary’? A year? Two? Five?”
Her mother hesitated.
“Well… I don’t know. However it works out.”
Oksana stood up and paced the room. She needed to calm down, gather her thoughts. She walked to the window and looked at the city lights.
“Mom, listen. I understand you want to help Irina. That’s good. But why did you decide to sacrifice your own home?”
“We’re not sacrificing anything! We’ll just move in with you!” irritation crept into Elena Petrovna’s voice. “What’s the big deal?”
“A lot. First, I’m used to living alone. Second, I have my own life, my own plans.”
“What plans? You work and work. You don’t even have time to date!”
“How do you know? Maybe I am seeing someone.”
“You’re seeing someone?” her mother tensed. “Who?”
“Doesn’t matter. That’s not the point. The point is—I’m not ready to share my apartment with my parents.”
Elena Petrovna sighed heavily.
“Oksana, you’re selfish. I never thought I’d say that to my daughter, but you only think about yourself.”
Oksana turned sharply.
“I’m selfish? Seriously? And who rented for eight years, saving up for her own apartment? Who took extra projects and worked nights to pay off the mortgage faster? Me! And now, when I’ve finally gotten my own home, you want to just come and settle in here?”
“It’s not forever!”
“For how long then? Can you guarantee a time frame?”
Her mother fell silent. Oksana continued:
“Imagine I meet someone. I’ll want to start a family. I have a three-room apartment. One room will be for me and my husband, one for you and Dad—where will the children live? In the third room? And what if there are two children?”
“Well, we don’t even know if you’ll have children…”
“We don’t know?” Oksana’s voice rose. “I’m thirty-five! This is exactly the age when I have to think about it! And you’re suggesting I postpone my life for Irina?”
Elena Petrovna pressed her lips into a thin line.
“Why ‘for Irina’?” she asked coldly. “She’s your sister. Family should support each other.”
“Support, yes. But not sacrifice everything for one person.”
“No one is asking you to sacrifice everything! Just let your parents live with you. What’s so страшного about that?”
Oksana sat back down and looked her mother in the eyes.
“What’s scary is that you made this decision without me. You didn’t ask, you didn’t discuss it. You just came and announced it as a fact.”
“We thought you’d understand…”
“I understand,” Oksana said. “I understand that Irina has always had everything come easily. She lived with you, you helped her with money. Now she’s getting married—and she gets your apartment. And me? I achieved everything myself. You never helped me with housing. And now that I finally have my own space, you want to take it away.”
“We’re not taking it away! We just want to live with you!”
“And I don’t want that!” Oksana raised her voice. “I don’t want to share my apartment with anyone! This is my territory! My space! I have the right to live the way I want!”
Elena Petrovna went pale. For a few seconds she stared at her daughter without saying a word. Then she said quietly:
“So for you, the apartment is more important than your parents?”
“That’s not what this is about, Mom. It’s about you trying to force a decision on me that I didn’t make.”
“Force…” her mother gave a bitter little laugh. “We raised you, gave you an education—and you’re talking about forcing?”
“You gave me an education?” Oksana laughed. “I studied on a state-funded place! And after my third year I worked so I wouldn’t have to ask you for money for food and transportation! So don’t talk to me about education!”
Elena Petrovna’s face twisted.
“You’re ungrateful. We’ve done so much for you…”
“And I’m grateful. Truly. But that doesn’t mean I owe you my apartment.”
Her mother stood up. Her hands were trembling.
“So you’re refusing us?”
“Yes. I’m refusing.”
“Fine,” Elena Petrovna grabbed her purse. “I’ll tell your father. We’ll see what he says.”
“Mom, wait…”
“No. Everything’s clear. You’ve made your choice.”
She headed for the door. Oksana followed her.
“Mom, please, understand…”
“There’s nothing to understand,” Elena Petrovna snapped. “We don’t need you anymore. Live with your apartment.”
She flung the door open and left, slamming it loudly behind her. Oksana remained in the hallway, staring at the closed door.
Everything inside her tightened. On one hand, she felt she was right. On the other, guilt gnawed at her for refusing her mother. But was she obligated to agree? Didn’t her own wishes matter?
Oksana went back into the living room. The half-eaten dinner and unfinished wine were still on the table. She cleared the dishes and washed the plates—mechanically, without thinking.
Then she lay down on the sofa and stared at the ceiling. The phone was silent. No one called. No one wrote. Silence.
The next morning Oksana woke up with a heavy head. She had slept badly, tossing and turning, replaying yesterday’s conversation. Maybe she should have agreed. Maybe she really was selfish.
No. She had the right to her life. To her space. To her decisions.
Oksana made coffee and sat by the window. The city was waking up; people were hurrying to work. Life went on.
Her phone rang. Irina’s name was on the screen.
“Hello,” Oksana answered.
“Hi,” her sister’s voice was cold. “Mom told me everything.”
“And?”
“And that you refused to take our parents in. Are you serious?”
“I’m serious.”
“Do you understand that because of you they’ll have to rent an apartment now?”
“Because of me?” Oksana snorted. “Ira, it was you who decided to give you their apartment. Not me.”
“But we’re young! We need to start our life!”
“And I don’t?” Oksana replied. “I’m thirty-five. I want a personal life too. And for that I need my own space.”
“You always think only about yourself,” Irina snapped. “You’ve always been like that.”
“Ira, I don’t want to fight. But the decision is made. I’m not ready to share my apartment with our parents.”
“You know what? Don’t come to the wedding. I’m taking back the invitation.”
“As you wish.”
“Great. Goodbye.”
Irina hung up. Oksana put the phone down and exhaled. So that was that. Her relatives were against her now.
An hour later her father called.
“Oksana, what happened? Your mother came home yesterday in tears.”
“Dad, I just said I’m not ready for you to move in with me.”
“But why? We’re family!”
“Exactly. And every family needs its own home. Its own space.”
“Oksana, we really have nowhere to go… Irina and Dmitry will take our apartment.”
“And they can’t rent their own place?”
“Why waste money on rent?”
“Dad, why are you giving away your apartment? You’ve lived there your whole life!”
Sergey Nikolayevich was silent for a moment.
“You see, Irina asked. She said it was important for them to have their own place from the very beginning.”
“And you agreed to sacrifice your apartment?”
“Well, we thought we’d move in with you…”
“Without asking me.”
Her father sighed.
“We thought you’d understand.”
“I understand, Dad,” Oksana said. “I understand you’re putting Irina first again. Like always.”
“Don’t say that! We love you both equally!”
“Really? Then why does Irina get the apartment and I get the obligation to house you?”
“It’s not an obligation! It’s helping the family!”
“Fine, Dad. I’ll help. I can give you money for rent. But I can’t let you live with me.”
“We don’t need your money!” her father’s voice hardened. “We need a daughter who won’t abandon her parents!”
“I’m not abandoning you! I just want to keep my personal space!”
“So the apartment matters more than we do. I see. All the best, Oksana.”
He hung up.
Oksana sat with the phone in her hand, feeling everything inside her grow cold. Her parents were offended. Her sister had disinvited her from the wedding. And all because she refused to let her parents move into her apartment.
No—not because she refused to “give up” her apartment, but because she refused to let them live there. Yet in practice, it was almost the same. Once they moved in, it would be impossible to make them leave. They would settle in for a long time—maybe forever.
And what about her plans? Her chance to start a family? Her right to live the way she wanted?
Oksana opened her chat with Igor and typed: “Can we meet tonight? I need to talk.”
The reply came quickly: “Of course. Seven at my place? Or a café?”
“At your place, if that’s okay.”
“Waiting.”
That evening Oksana went to Igor’s. He met her with a glass of wine and a worried look.
“What happened? You look exhausted.”
Oksana told him everything—her mother’s visit, the demand to move in, the fight, the calls from her relatives.
Igor listened in silence, nodding. When she finished, he took her hand.
“You did the right thing.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. You have the right to your life. To your space. Your parents can’t demand sacrifices from you for your sister.”
“But they think I’m selfish…”
“You’re not selfish—you’re someone with boundaries. That’s a big difference. Selfishness is thinking only of yourself at others’ expense. Boundaries are protecting your right to comfort and happiness.”
Oksana rested her head on his shoulder.
“Thank you. I really needed to hear that.”
“Anytime. And you know what? If you ever decide you’re ready for a serious relationship, I’ll be very happy your parents aren’t living in your apartment.”
Oksana laughed through her tears.
“You’re right. We wouldn’t even be able to be alone properly.”
“Exactly. So you made the right choice—for yourself and your future.”
A week passed. Oksana returned to her usual life—work, seeing Igor, the gym on weekends. Her parents didn’t call, and neither did her sister. Oksana didn’t write first. She’d said her piece and wasn’t going to change it.
One evening her cousin Alina called.
“Hi, Oksan. How are you?”
“Fine. How about you?”
“Not bad. Listen, I heard about the situation with your parents…”
Oksana winced. So the news had already spread through the whole family.
“And what did you hear?”
“Well, that they wanted to move in with you, and you refused. And now they’re renting an apartment.”
“Renting?” Oksana was surprised. “They already moved out of theirs?”
“Yes. After the wedding, Irina and Dmitry moved into their two-room place. And Elena Petrovna and Sergey Nikolayevich rented a one-room apartment on the other side of the city.”
“A one-room?”
“Yeah. And it’s very expensive, by the way. Aunt Lena complained that half their pension goes to rent.”
Oksana went silent. So her parents really had given Irina the apartment—and now were spending money to rent housing.
“And Irina—happy?”
“Of course she’s happy! Living in a two-room apartment, not paying anyone anything. Dmitry works, she works too. Living the dream.”
“I see.”
“Oksana, is it really impossible for you to let your parents live with you?” Alina’s voice carried judgment. “You have plenty of room…”
“Alina, it’s my apartment. I decide who lives there.”
“But they’re your parents! How can you—”
“If it worries you so much, let them live with you.”
“I have two kids! There’s no space!”
“And I have my own life. And I have a right to it.”
“You’re cruel,” Alina said quietly. “I never thought you were like that.”
“Think what you want. It’s my choice.”
Alina hung up.
Oksana put the phone down and looked out the window. So that was how it was. Her relatives judged her, called her harsh and cold. But was she guilty that her parents had decided to give Irina their apartment?
She hadn’t made them do it. She hadn’t asked. She had simply refused to take on the consequences of their decision.
That evening she met Igor. They walked through the park holding hands.
“My parents rented an apartment,” Oksana said. “They gave their place to Irina.”
“Seriously?” Igor frowned. “So they really sacrificed their home?”
“Yeah. And now they pay rent. And the whole family judges me.”
“For what? For not wanting to live with your parents in the same apartment?”
“Exactly that.”
Igor stopped and turned her toward him.
“Listen. You don’t owe anyone anything. You earned your apartment yourself. You have the right to do with it what you want. And if your relatives can’t understand that—that’s their problem, not yours.”
“But it’s still hard… They’re my parents. And I refused them.”
“You didn’t refuse to help them. You refused to let them run your life. Those are different things.”
Oksana rested her forehead against his chest.
“Thank you for being here. Your support really matters to me.”
“Always,” he kissed the top of her head. “I’m on your side. And you know what? I think your parents will understand over time that you were right.”
“I’m not sure…”
“They will. When they cool down and think clearly, they’ll realize their decision was wrong from the start.”
“I’d like to believe that.”
They kept walking. Oksana felt the warmth of his hand in hers and understood—she wasn’t alone. There was someone who understood and supported her.
And that was already a lot.
Irina’s wedding took place without Oksana. She found out from social media—her sister posted photos from the celebration. A happy bride, a satisfied groom, their parents in formal suits. Everything beautiful and festive.
Oksana looked at the photos and closed the app. She was sad she hadn’t been there. But she wasn’t going to go back and apologize. She hadn’t done anything wrong.
A month passed. Then another. Her parents didn’t call. Irina stayed silent. Oksana lived her life, saw Igor, worked on a new project.
One morning her mother wrote to her. A short message: “How are you?”
Oksana stared at the screen for a long time. Should she reply? What should she say?
She typed: “Fine. And you?”
A reply came five minutes later: “We’re living. The rented place is cramped, but it’s okay. We’re getting used to it.”
Oksana didn’t know what to answer. Her mother was clearly waiting for sympathy—or an offer of help. But Oksana stayed silent.
Another message from her mother: “Irina and Dmitry are settled. They say they’ll do renovations soon.”
“Good,” Oksana replied briefly.
“Oksana, maybe we could meet? Talk properly?”
Oksana thought. Meet? Talk about what? Would her mother apologize? Unlikely.
But on the other hand—she was still her mom. Maybe it was worth giving it a chance.
“Okay. Saturday at a café?”
“Deal. Send the address.”
On Saturday Oksana arrived at the café ten minutes early. She ordered coffee and sat by the window. She was nervous, though she tried not to show it.
Elena Petrovna arrived right on time. She looked tired, older. She sat across from her daughter and ordered tea.
“Hi,” her mother said quietly.
“Hi, Mom.”
They were silent for a few minutes. Then Elena Petrovna exhaled.
“I wanted to apologize.”
Oksana looked up. Her mother stared into her cup, not daring to meet her eyes.
“What are you apologizing for?” Oksana asked carefully.
“For coming to you with that demand. For not asking, not discussing it—just deciding for you. That was wrong.”
Oksana nodded.
“Thank you for admitting that.”
“Your father and I thought a lot. After moving into the rented apartment, we realized how stupid it was to give ours away. Irina could have rented. Or lived with us for a while. But we went along with her.”
“Why?”
Elena Petrovna shrugged.
“She’s the youngest. She was always more demanding. We got used to giving in to her. And then we realized we’d gone too far.”
“And now what?”
“Now we live in a rented apartment and pay half our pension for it. Irina and Dmitry are planning renovations. They haven’t even offered to help with money.”
Oksana said nothing. She felt sorry for her mother, but there was still plenty of anger inside her.
“Mom, I get that it’s hard. But it was your decision. I warned you I wasn’t ready to live with you. You still gave Irina the apartment.”
“I know. We made a mistake. And now we’re paying for it.”
“And Irina—does she understand you’re without a home because of her?”
Her mother gave a bitter smile.
“Irina thinks we decided it ourselves. That it was our choice. And that she doesn’t owe us anything.”
“So she isn’t offering you to move back?”
“No. She says they need their own space. That they’re a young family and don’t want to live with parents.”
Oksana laughed, but it came out sad.
“So she’s using the same arguments I did?”
“Yes. Only when she says it, it sounds normal. And we didn’t want to hear it from you.”
“Because you expected a sacrifice from me. But not from Irina.”
Elena Petrovna wiped her tears with a napkin.
“Forgive us, Oksana. We were wrong. I was wrong.”
Oksana reached out and covered her mother’s hand with her own.
“I’m not holding a grudge, Mom. It just hurt that you didn’t hear me back then.”
“We understood too late.”
“It’s never too late. The main thing is you understood.”
“You’re not angry?”
“No. But I still won’t invite you to live with me. It’s my space, and I want to keep it.”
Her mother nodded.
“I understand. We won’t ask again.”
“But I can help with the rent,” Oksana offered. “Not much, but something.”
“No, Oksana. We’ll manage ourselves. It’s our choice, our consequences.”
“Okay. But if anything—tell me. I’ll help.”
Elena Petrovna smiled through tears.
“Thank you, sweetie. I’m glad we talked.”
“Me too.”
They finished their drinks and left the café. Before parting, they hugged. Oksana felt a weight lift from her chest. Her mother had apologized and admitted her mistake. That mattered.
That evening she told Igor about the meeting.
“So—did it feel easier?” he asked.
“Yes. Mom apologized. She said they were wrong.”
“That’s good. So the relationship can be rebuilt.”
“I hope so. Though with Irina, I doubt anything will change.”
“Not necessarily. Maybe with time she’ll understand too.”
“We’ll see.”
Oksana leaned into his shoulder. They sat on her living-room sofa and looked out at the evening city.
“You know, I don’t regret my decision,” she said softly. “Even with all the scandals and judgment. I defended my right to live. And that was the right thing.”
“Absolutely,” Igor agreed. “And I’m proud of you.”
Several more months passed. Oksana and Igor began seeing each other more often, and their relationship became serious. They started discussing the future—where to live, when to move in together, how to build a life as a couple.
“I want us to live together,” Igor said one evening. “But I don’t want to rush you. If you need time—tell me.”
“No, I want it too,” Oksana smiled. “We just need to think it through. You have your own place too.”
“Yes. A two-room apartment. We can live at mine or yours. Or sell both and buy something bigger.”
“Let’s live at mine for now,” Oksana said. “There’s enough room, and I’ll feel calmer on my own territory.”
“Okay. Then I’ll gradually move my things over.”
Oksana hugged him.
“You know, I’m so glad I didn’t agree to my parents’ demand. If they had moved in back then, you and I couldn’t live together now.”
“Exactly. Everything is falling into place.”
“Yes. And I’m happy.”
Igor kissed her.
“So am I.”
A month later Igor moved in with Oksana. They arranged the apartment together, found compromises, laughed over small everyday disagreements.
Oksana was happy. She had a loved one, her own apartment, a stable job. Life was settling down.
Her parents called sometimes. Her mother told her about the rented apartment, her father’s health, family news. She didn’t mention Irina. Oksana didn’t ask.
One day Alina messaged her on social media.
“Oksana, forgive me for what I said. I didn’t understand then why you did it. But now I do.”
“What happened?”
“My sister asked to live with me with her husband for a couple of months. I agreed. They’ve been here six months. And they’re not planning to move out. Now I understand why you refused your parents.”
“Oksana replied: Alina, it’s your apartment. You can ask them to leave.”
“I’m afraid to offend them…”
“And you’ll live in discomfort?” Oksana wrote back. “It’s your life. Protect it.”
“Thank you. I’ll think about it.”
Oksana closed the chat and smiled. There it was—proof she’d been right. Agree once, and her parents would have stayed forever. And she would have lost her chance at a personal life.
Igor walked into the kitchen and hugged her from behind.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Just remembered that whole situation with my parents. Alina wrote to me—she said she understands me now.”
“So you’re not as cruel as they called you?”
“Looks like I’m not,” Oksana laughed. “I just know how to protect my boundaries.”
“And that’s wonderful. I love you exactly for that—for knowing your worth and not letting others control your life.”
“Thank you. I really need to hear that.”
They hugged. Oksana felt warmth and safety. She had made the right choice back then, at that dinner with her mother. And now she was living with the results of that choice.
That evening they sat on the sofa and watched a movie. Oksana thought about how much her life had changed over these months—the fight with her parents, the rupture with her sister, the family’s judgment. But also meeting Igor, a serious relationship, happiness.
If she had agreed back then, none of this would have happened. Her parents would have lived in her apartment, taking up a room. Igor would have had nowhere to move. They couldn’t have built a life together.
But now they were together—in her apartment, on her territory. And it was right.
Oksana snuggled closer to Igor. He hugged her tighter.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“And I love you.”
They kept watching the movie. Outside, the city darkened and lights came on. Life went on. And it was good.
A year passed since that explosive conversation with her mother. Oksana and Igor were living together and discussing the possibility of a wedding. He proposed in a small restaurant where they were celebrating their relationship anniversary.
“Marry me,” he said, holding out a ring box. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Oksana burst into tears of happiness.
“Yes. Of course, yes.”
They hugged to the applause of the restaurant guests. Oksana felt it was the happiest day of her life.
They decided on a modest wedding—only close friends and relatives. Oksana called her parents and invited them.
“Mom, I’m getting married. Will you come?”
Elena Petrovna sobbed on the other end of the line.
“Of course we’ll come! Oksanochka, I’m so happy for you!”
“Thank you, Mom.”
“And… will you invite Irina too?”
Oksana hesitated.
“I don’t know. We don’t talk.”
“Maybe this is a chance to make peace?”
“If she wants to come, let her come. I’m not against it. But I won’t be the first to apologize.”
“Okay, sweetie. I’ll tell her.”
Irina didn’t come to the wedding. She sent a formal congratulation in a messenger app, but didn’t show up. Oksana wasn’t upset. She had Igor, her parents, her friends. That was enough.
After the wedding, she and Igor began talking about children.
“I want two,” Oksana said. “A boy and a girl.”
“Let’s try,” Igor smiled. “We have space and stability. Why not?”
Six months later Oksana found out she was pregnant. Igor was over the moon.
“We’re going to be parents!” he kept repeating, hugging his wife. “I can’t believe it!”
Oksana smiled. Yes—they were going to be parents. And they had their own apartment, with enough room for everyone. Without parents who would interfere with them building their family.
When their daughter was born, Elena Petrovna came to help. She cared for her granddaughter, cooked, cleaned. Oksana was grateful.
“Thank you, Mom, for helping,” she said. “I don’t know how I’d manage without you.”
“Oh, sweetie, I’m happy to help. She’s so beautiful—our little Katya.”
“Yes. A miracle.”
Elena Petrovna stayed for two weeks, then left. Oksana saw her off warmly.
“Come again, Mom. We’ll be happy to have you.”
“I will, definitely.”
Life settled. Oksana returned from maternity leave, enrolled her daughter in daycare. Igor got a promotion. They lived calmly and happily.
One day Oksana ran into Irina on the street. Her sister was pushing a stroller with a baby.
“Hi,” Oksana said cautiously.
“Hi,” Irina answered coldly.
“You have a baby too?”
“Yes. My son is three months.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
They stood in awkward silence. Then Irina turned to leave.
“Ira, wait,” Oksana stopped her. “Maybe it’s time to forget the grudges? We both have kids now. It would be good if the cousins knew each other.”
Irina looked her up and down.
“I don’t know. I’m still hurt about that situation.”
“I understand. But I did what I thought was right—and I don’t regret it.”
“I know. Mom said you’re happy with Igor. That you have a good family.”
“Yes. We’re doing well. And you?”
Irina shrugged.
“It’s complicated. Dmitry works a lot, I’m home with the baby. We don’t have enough money. Our parents help sometimes, but they don’t have much themselves.”
“If you need help—tell me. I won’t refuse.”
Irina nodded.
“Thanks. I’ll think about it.”
They exchanged numbers and went their separate ways.
Walking home, Oksana thought about the meeting. Irina looked tired, older. Motherhood was probably hard for her—especially in the two-room apartment she and Dmitry shared.
And Oksana was happy. She had space, a beloved husband, a wonderful daughter. And all of it—because of the decision she had made a year ago.
That evening she sat on the balcony with a cup of tea. Igor was putting Katya to sleep. From the nursery came a lullaby.
Oksana smiled. This was her life. Her family. Her home.
No relatives’ judgment, no scandals—just quiet happiness she had built herself.
And she didn’t regret anything. Not refusing her parents, not breaking with her sister, not that period of loneliness. All of it had led her here.
To a home where she set the rules. To a family she built on her own terms. To happiness she had earned.
Oksana finished her tea and went inside. Igor had already come out of the nursery.
“Asleep?” she asked.
“Yes. Like an angel.”
“Good. Want to rest?”
“Let’s.”
They went to the bedroom and lay down. Oksana snuggled against her husband.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“And I love you. Very much.”
Oksana closed her eyes. Tomorrow would be a new day—new worries, new joys. But she knew she could handle it. Because she had everything she needed: love, a home, a family.
And the right to live the way she wanted—the right she had fought for and defended.
That was the most important thing. And the most valuable
