“Mom sold the house, Alina. What else was I supposed to do?” Sergey stood in the middle of the tiny kitchen, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other.
“We live in a one-room apartment, Sergey! Where exactly is your mother supposed to sleep?” Alina stared at her husband in disbelief, her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Friday evening, which was supposed to mark the start of a peaceful weekend, had exploded into chaos. Alina had just come home from work, dreaming of rest, when Sergey dropped the news on her like a stone: his mother, Anna Aleksandrovna, would be moving in with them in three days.
For good.
“You could have talked to me before making a decision like that,” Alina said, fighting to keep her voice steady, though it trembled anyway. “This is my apartment. I bought it before we got married. It already feels cramped with just the two of us!”
“But she’s my mother!” Sergey finally looked up, guilt and stubbornness mixed in his eyes. “How could I turn her away? She spent her whole life raising me, doing everything she could to help me stand on my own feet.”
Alina took a slow breath. In the year they had been married, she had already gotten used to one hard truth: Sergey simply could not say no to his mother. Sending her money every month or driving out to help with chores was one thing. Inviting her to live in their tiny apartment was something else entirely.
“Sergey, we sleep on a sofa that barely fits in the room. Where is your mother even going to sleep?”
He hesitated.
“Maybe… maybe we could buy a folding cot for ourselves and give her the sofa. She’s not young anymore. She needs a proper place to rest.”
Alina covered her face with both hands.
“Are you even listening to yourself? This is not about furniture. It’s about our life. Our space. Three grown adults in a studio apartment is going to be unbearable.”
“It’s only temporary,” Sergey said quickly, stepping closer and reaching for her hand. “She’ll stay with us until she finds a place of her own in the city.”
“And how long is ‘temporary’ supposed to last?” Alina pulled away. “A week? A month? A year?”
“I think a couple of months should be enough,” he replied, though even he didn’t sound convinced.
Alina looked at him in silence. She loved Sergey—his kindness, his hardworking hands, his gentle nature. But sometimes that very kindness became a problem. Especially when his mother was involved.
“Two months,” she said at last. “No more. And during that time, your mother needs to find her own place.”
Sergey’s whole face lit up.
“Thank you, Alinochka! You’re the best. You’ll see, everything will be fine.”
Alina only shook her head.
Something in her gut told her it would not be fine at all.
“Marish, you have no idea how trapped I am,” Alina said, sitting in the tiny staff break room at the hotel. An unfinished salad sat in front of her.
Marina, her best friend and coworker, nodded sympathetically.
“A mother-in-law in a one-room apartment? That’s not a challenge, that’s a survival test. When is she coming?”
“Tomorrow,” Alina said, pushing the plate away. “Sergey’s picking her up from the station after work. And I, like a complete coward, took an extra shift just so I wouldn’t have to be home.”
“You’re not a coward. You’re a smart woman,” Marina said, brushing back her blonde hair. “Extra money never hurts, especially now that there’ll be three of you.”
“We spent two whole days cleaning and moving furniture around,” Alina sighed. “I even packed up half my clothes and took them to my parents’ place so there’d be room for her things.”
“How do you know she’s bringing that much?”
“Sergey talked to her on the phone. She said she was coming with two huge suitcases and three bags. Can you imagine? And she already sent some boxes ahead by mail.”
Marina let out a low whistle.
“Your Anna Aleksandrovna sounds serious. That doesn’t look like a temporary visit.”
“Exactly!” Alina leaned forward. “I can feel it. She has no intention of leaving. And Sergey is way too soft to push back.”
“And the money from selling the house? She could rent a room or an apartment with that.”
“I don’t know,” Alina said with a shrug. “Sergey says houses in the village aren’t worth much these days. But still, whatever she got should be enough for something, at least for the first few months.”
“Alina,” Marina said, looking at her seriously, “you need to set boundaries from day one. It’s your apartment. You are the one in charge there. Don’t let your mother-in-law take over.”
“Easy for you to say,” Alina muttered. “You don’t know Anna Aleksandrovna. Sergey takes after her—same stubborn streak—but she’s even more controlling. Back in the village, everyone was half afraid of her.”
“All the more reason to make things clear immediately,” Marina insisted. “Otherwise she’ll grab the reins before you even realize what’s happening.”
Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door. The receptionist leaned in.
“Alina, your husband is on the phone. He says it’s urgent.”
Alina’s heart skipped.
What now?
Sergey was speaking fast, his voice tense.
“Alina, we’re already home. Mom got here earlier than expected—the bus made good time. I met her at the station. What time are you off?”
“In three hours,” she answered automatically, her mind racing. She had planned to prepare herself mentally before facing her mother-in-law. Now she would have to walk straight into it.
“Okay,” Sergey said, sounding relieved. “We’ll wait for you. Mom brought homemade pickles and jam.”
When she hung up, Alina leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes.
It had begun.
She opened the apartment door with a heavy heart. After one deep breath, she stepped inside.
“So, you’ve finally made it home! We were starting to wonder where you were,” a loud voice boomed from the room beyond.
Alina flinched. She remembered that commanding tone from the wedding, when Anna Aleksandrovna had directed everyone around—including the café staff—as if she owned the place.
“Hello, Anna Aleksandrovna,” Alina said as she entered the room.
Then she stopped dead.
The tiny living room had already been transformed. A bright oilcloth covered the coffee table. The sofa was draped with a floral bedspread she had never seen before. In one corner, a mountain of suitcases and bags rose so high they took up nearly a quarter of the room.
Anna Aleksandrovna, a short, heavyset woman with chestnut-colored hair pulled into a tight bun, sat on the sofa like a queen on her throne. Sergey sat beside her, wearing the guilty expression of a man who knew exactly what was happening and had no idea how to stop it.
“Come in, don’t just stand there,” his mother said, patting the seat beside her. “Sit down. Tell us about your day.”
“I’d rather change first, thank you,” Alina replied, remaining where she was. “It’s been a long day.”
“Of course, of course,” Anna Aleksandrovna said, nodding quickly. “Then come to the table afterward. I brought all kinds of country treats, and they should be tasted while they’re still fresh.”
As Alina passed the kitchen, she noticed that it had changed too. Her neatly stacked dishes had been rearranged. Strange jars and bundles had appeared on the table.
In the bathroom—the only place where she could be alone for a moment—Alina leaned against the door and shut her eyes.
Only a few hours.
That was all it had taken for her mother-in-law to start remaking the apartment in her own image.
When she came back out in comfortable clothes, she sat on the edge of the sofa.
“Well then, daughter-in-law,” Anna Aleksandrovna said, scooting closer, “tell me how you two live here. Sergey says you work at a hotel?”
“Yes. I’m an administrator.”
“And does it pay well?”
“Mom,” Sergey cut in, “let’s not talk about work. Alina’s tired.”
“I’m only asking!” Anna Aleksandrovna threw up her hands. “How else am I supposed to know how you live? This little apartment of yours is awfully small. It’ll be cramped for three.”
Alina looked at Sergey.
I told you so, her eyes said.
“It’s temporary, Mom,” Sergey said firmly. “Like Alina and I agreed—you’ll stay with us only until you find your own place.”
His mother waved a hand dismissively.
“What would I do, at my age, drifting from one rental room to another? It’ll be livelier together. I can cook, clean. I’ll make life easier for both of you.”
“Anna Aleksandrovna,” Alina said carefully, keeping her tone level, “Sergey and I are used to living as a couple. We have our own routine, our own habits. Of course we want to help, but—”
“What habits can people your age possibly have?” her mother-in-law interrupted. “Life is only beginning! Once you have children, then yes, routines matter. But now?” She swept a hand around the room. “You’re living like birds in a shoebox.”
“Mom,” Sergey warned.
“What? I’m telling the truth!” She turned back to Alina. “You do want children, don’t you? I had my Seryozhenka at twenty-four, and how old are you already? Twenty-eight? Time doesn’t wait.”
A hot wave of irritation rose in Alina’s chest. She and Sergey had discussed children many times and agreed they would wait until they could afford a bigger place. It was not a topic for the first evening with her mother-in-law.
“I’ll go see what we have for dinner,” Alina said, standing abruptly to avoid answering.
“No need,” Anna Aleksandrovna announced proudly. “I already cooked. Boiled potatoes, opened some pickles. Nothing fancy, but good and hearty!”
Alina froze.
So her mother-in-law had already taken over the kitchen too while she was at work.
“Thank you,” she forced herself to say. “That was… thoughtful.”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Anna Aleksandrovna said with a dismissive wave. “I’ll be cooking from now on. Sergey has hard work, he needs proper meals. I suppose you don’t cook much, do you? Everything rushed, quick snacks?”
Sergey cleared his throat.
“Mom, Alina is a great cook. She just doesn’t always have the time.”
“Exactly!” his mother exclaimed. “And I do. I’ll fatten both of you up.”
Alina said nothing. She went into the kitchen, already feeling like a stranger in her own home.
The week that followed passed like some bizarre nightmare.
Alina no longer felt as if she lived in her own apartment. Anna Aleksandrovna was claiming territory with methodical precision: her belongings appeared on shelves in the bathroom, in the refrigerator, inside the wardrobe. Every evening, Alina would come home and find something else moved, shifted, replaced.
“You’ve got dark circles under your eyes,” Marina said one morning when they started their shift together. “Is it really that bad?”
“It’s awful,” Alina admitted. “Sergey and I sleep on a folding cot now, and his mother took the sofa. I toss and turn all night, and my back is killing me. And she gets up at five in the morning and starts banging around in the kitchen.”
“And Sergey?”
Alina let out a tired laugh.
“What about Sergey? He’s caught in the middle. His mother is sacred to him. Every time I try to talk to him, he asks me to be patient. Says she’ll find somewhere soon.”
“And is she actually looking?” Marina asked skeptically.
“Not really. Every day she finds a reason to reject another option. Too far away, noisy neighbors, room too small…”
At that moment, the phone at the front desk rang. Marina answered, then handed the receiver to Alina.
“It’s your husband.”
“Alina,” Sergey said, his tone apologetic, “could you maybe come home early today? Mom made a big dinner and wants us all to eat together.”
“My shift ends at eight, Sergey.”
“I know, but… maybe Marina could cover for you? Mom went to a lot of trouble.”
Alina closed her eyes.
Again.
Anna Aleksandrovna had managed to insert herself into their plans.
“I’ll ask,” she said. “No promises.”
She hung up and turned to Marina.
“My mother-in-law organized a family dinner. Sergey wants me home early.”
“Go,” Marina said. “I’ll cover for you. But Alina—you need to have a serious conversation with Sergey. This can’t keep going.”
“I’ve tried. He thinks I’m overreacting. Says his mother is just trying to help.”
“And what happened to the money from selling the house?” Marina asked. “She had to get something.”
“I honestly don’t know,” Alina said, frowning. “Sergey says the house was old and didn’t sell for much. But he’s never named an amount.”
“That’s odd,” Marina muttered. “Maybe you should dig a little deeper.”
“You think she’s hiding something?”
Marina gave her a pointed look.
“I think your mother-in-law is not telling the full story.”
The family dinner turned into a trial.
Anna Aleksandrovna had invited the neighbor, Olga Petrovna, a plump elderly woman with eager, curious eyes.
“There’s our hard-working girl!” the mother-in-law exclaimed when Alina came in. “Sit down before everything gets cold.”
The kitchen table was packed with plates and bowls. Sergey was already sitting there, talking to Olga Petrovna.
“Good evening,” Alina said, nodding politely to the neighbor and shooting her husband a questioning look. He only shrugged helplessly, as if to say, I didn’t know either.
“Sit, sit,” Anna Aleksandrovna urged. “I made all this. Surely you haven’t had proper homemade food in ages?”
“Thank you,” Alina said as she sat down, uncomfortable in her work clothes, exhausted, and in no mood to entertain guests.
“I was just telling Anna Aleksandrovna,” Olga Petrovna began, piling salad onto her plate, “what a lucky family you are. Sergey is so attentive, always taking care of his mother. And now with grandmother living with you too—three generations under one roof! What a blessing.”
Alina nearly choked.
“I’m sorry, but Anna Aleksandrovna is only staying with us temporarily. She’s looking for a place of her own.”
An awkward silence followed. The mother-in-law jumped in quickly.
“Of course, of course. I don’t want to burden the young ones. Though I must admit, I always dreamed we might live together. Sergey is my only son. Who will look after him if not his mother?”
“I think Alina and I are doing just fine,” Sergey said firmly, and Alina shot him a grateful glance. “Mom, didn’t you say you were going to see a room tomorrow not far from here?”
“I already went,” Anna Aleksandrovna said with a dismissive flick of her hand. “Didn’t like it. The landlady was strange, always going on about rules. And the room was too small. My things wouldn’t fit.”
“You have that many things?” Olga Petrovna asked.
“Well…” the mother-in-law looked thoughtfully at the ceiling. “My house was large and spacious. I had to sell some things, naturally. But I brought the essentials.”
“Anna Aleksandrovna,” Alina said, seizing the moment, “how much did you get for the house, exactly? Maybe it would make more sense to think about buying a small apartment.”
The older woman visibly tensed.
“Oh, what is there to talk about? Barely anything. Village houses are worth next to nothing these days. Everyone wants the city now.”
“But still,” Alina pressed, “roughly how much?”
“Alina,” Sergey cut in, “let’s not discuss this at dinner.”
“What’s wrong with asking?” she said, realizing she had touched something important. “We’re supposed to be family. We should talk openly. Especially when it concerns our future.”
“Our future, yes!” Anna Aleksandrovna jumped in, eager to change the subject. “I was just talking to Olga Petrovna—she used to work at a daycare. She says this is the perfect time for you two to start thinking about children.”
Alina’s grip tightened around her fork until her knuckles whitened. Once again, her mother-in-law had pushed into their private life—and in front of a stranger.
“We’ll think about it,” she answered coldly. “When we’re ready.”
“What’s there to prepare for?” the older woman insisted. “Have the baby, and I’ll help. I’m in the city now, I have no job, all the time in the world.”
“So you do plan to stay in their apartment permanently?” Olga Petrovna asked with innocent curiosity.
“No!” Alina and Sergey said at the exact same moment.
“Time will tell,” Anna Aleksandrovna replied with a mysterious smile. “Eat before everything gets cold.”
After dinner, once Olga Petrovna had left and the mother-in-law disappeared into the bathroom, Alina dragged Sergey onto the balcony.
“What was that?” she hissed. “Your mother plans to stay with us forever!”
“You’re exaggerating,” Sergey said, trying to calm her. “She just didn’t want to talk about money in front of a stranger.”
“And what about in front of us? Why has she never once named the amount she got from selling the house? Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”
Sergey frowned.
“What are you implying?”
“I’m not implying anything. I’m asking directly: how much money does your mother have? Can she afford to rent a place? Even just a room? Because I’m starting to think she has no intention of looking for housing at all.”
“Alina, that’s my mother!” Sergey snapped. “She wouldn’t lie!”
“Then why does she dodge the question? Why is every option somehow unsuitable? It’s already been a week, Sergey. One week out of your promised two months!”
Their argument was interrupted by Anna Aleksandrovna’s appearance.
“Oh, so the young ones are whispering secrets now! What are you two plotting?”
“Nothing, Mom,” Sergey said, stepping away from Alina. “Just discussing work.”
“Talking about work at night?” she said with disapproval. “Better tell me when we’re buying a new wardrobe. My clothes are still in suitcases. I can’t keep living like that.”
Alina and Sergey exchanged a look.
A new wardrobe did not sound temporary at all.
The tension grew sharper by the day.
Two weeks after Anna Aleksandrovna moved in, the apartment felt like a pressure cooker ready to burst. Alina spent as little time at home as possible, picking up extra shifts at the hotel. Sergey stayed late at work. Only the mother-in-law seemed completely at ease, rearranging the apartment to suit her tastes.
“What is this?” Alina stopped in the doorway, staring in disbelief.
The old pink glass vase her grandmother had given her as a housewarming gift lay shattered on the floor.
“Oh, daughter-in-law, you’re back already?” Anna Aleksandrovna came out of the kitchen carrying a broom and dustpan. “Don’t be upset, I accidentally knocked over your little vase. I wanted to put flowers in it, but it slipped.”
“That vase…” Alina’s voice shook. “That was from my grandmother. The only thing I had left from her.”
“Oh, come now,” her mother-in-law said with a shrug. “It was only a vase. I brought you a clay pot from the village—it’s much more practical. And it hardly breaks.”
Without a word, Alina walked into the bathroom and shut the door.
She stood there trembling, feeling tears rise. She refused to cry in front of her mother-in-law. She would not give her that.
That evening, when Sergey came home, she told him about the vase.
“Sergey, I can’t do this anymore,” she said, exhausted. “Your mother isn’t just staying with us. She’s taking over. First she rearranged the furniture, then she threw away my favorite mugs because they ‘weren’t suitable for a family,’ and now she broke my grandmother’s vase. What comes next?”
Sergey sighed heavily.
“I’ll talk to her, Alina. She doesn’t do these things out of spite.”
“What difference does that make?” Alina burst out. “This is about respect. My apartment, Sergey. I let your mother stay because you asked me to. And she behaves like she owns the place!”
“Lower your voice,” he said quickly, glancing toward the door. “She’ll hear.”
“Good!” Alina snapped. “Let her hear. Let her know exactly what I think. Better yet, let her start seriously looking for her own place. It’s been two weeks. Where are the results?”
“It’s not so easy to find a decent room,” he began weakly.
“And the money from the house?” Alina shot back. “How much is it? Enough for a rental or not? Why won’t anyone answer me?”
Sergey hesitated.
“I don’t know exactly. Mom says it wasn’t much.”
“Not much means what?” Alina demanded. “Why don’t you ask her plainly?”
At that moment, Anna Aleksandrovna walked into the room with a cup in her hand.
“What are you two shouting about? The whole building can hear.”
Alina drew in a breath and looked at her directly.
“We’re talking about the fact that it’s time for you to start seriously looking for your own place, Anna Aleksandrovna. Two weeks have passed.”
“Oh, housing is difficult these days,” her mother-in-law said with a sorrowful sigh. “There’s fraud everywhere, prices are outrageous. And anyway, why waste money? We’re doing perfectly well as we are.”
“No,” Alina said firmly. “We are not. Sergey and I sleep on a folding cot, and my back hurts every morning. My vase has been broken. My belongings have been moved. And this is my apartment, Anna Aleksandrovna. Mine.”
The older woman’s face hardened.
“So now you’re throwing your husband’s own mother out onto the street?”
“Not onto the street,” Alina replied. “Into housing of your own. You got money from selling your house.”
“What money? Pennies!” the mother-in-law cried. “Village houses are worth nothing now!”
“And how much exactly?” Alina asked again, refusing to back down.
Anna Aleksandrovna shot her son a quick look.
“Seryozhenka, explain to your wife that it’s improper to ask people about money. It’s rude.”
“Mom,” Sergey said unexpectedly, and this time his voice was firm, “I want to know too. If there really isn’t much, then we’ll figure something out. But we need to understand the situation.”
His mother pressed her lips together.
“Fine. Let’s say I got three hundred thousand. So what? That won’t buy an apartment, and renting a room is just throwing money away.”
Alina and Sergey exchanged a glance.
Three hundred thousand was not a tiny amount for their city. It could pay for a decent room for well over a year.
“Why didn’t you tell us from the beginning?” Sergey asked. “We could have sat down together and made a plan.”
“What was there to tell?” Anna Aleksandrovna spread her hands. “I thought we’d live together. My own son, his young wife—we’re family. And when the children come, I could help.”
“But we are not planning for children right now,” Alina said. “And Sergey and I want to live separately from you.”
“Ungrateful girl!” the mother-in-law suddenly shouted. “I gave my whole life to that boy, raised him alone, and now in my old age I’m supposed to wander from one rented room to another?”
“Mom,” Sergey said, taking her hand, “nobody is talking about rented corners and strangers. We’ll help you find a good room or apartment. We’ll visit, help with anything you need.”
“And what if I don’t want that?” she asked stubbornly. “What if I want to live with my son?”
“Then you need to respect boundaries,” Alina said, holding her gaze. “This is my apartment. I am the one who decides what happens here.”
“Well, aren’t you something,” Anna Aleksandrovna muttered bitterly. “Irina warned me.”
“What Irina?” Sergey asked at once.
His mother faltered.
‘
“Oh… just a friend from the village. She’s been living in the city for years.”
The next day Alina took time off and went to Marina’s place. Her thoughts were a tangled mess after the night before.
“So she has three hundred thousand?” Marina whistled. “And still plans to stay with you forever?”
“That’s what it looks like,” Alina said. “And she mentioned some woman named Irina who had ‘warned’ her.”
“Interesting.” Marina tapped her fingers against the table. “What if this Irina isn’t just some friend? What if they came up with a plan together?”
“You think this is deliberate?”
“I don’t know,” Marina said. “But your mother-in-law is clearly hiding something. Maybe you should find this Irina.”
At that exact moment, Alina’s phone rang. Olga Petrovna’s name flashed on the screen.
“Alinochka, is that you?” the neighbor’s excited voice whispered through the line. “I found out something. I think you’ll want to hear it.”
“What happened, Olga Petrovna?”
“Your mother-in-law,” the woman lowered her voice even more, “was meeting some woman in the café on the corner. I happened to walk by and saw them. They were arguing very intensely. And then your mother-in-law said, ‘Irina, I’ll do everything exactly the way we agreed.’”
Alina’s heart began pounding.
“Are you sure it was Irina?”
“Absolutely. I was sitting close enough to hear. They were discussing some plan about how to persuade you and Sergey…” Olga Petrovna paused dramatically. “To sell the apartment.”
“What?” Alina nearly dropped the phone.
“Yes! They were saying a one-room apartment is too small for a young family, that you should buy a two-room place instead—one with room for the mother-in-law too. And they’d all pool their money. Your mother-in-law would add what she got from the house, and you two would sell the apartment.”
When the call ended, Alina stared at Marina in shock.
“They want us to sell my apartment.”
Marina slowly shook her head.
“So that’s the game. Your mother-in-law has been making life unbearable on purpose so you’ll suggest moving yourselves.”
“What do I do now?” Alina asked, feeling tears rise.
“First, find Irina,” Marina said decisively. “Then have a very serious conversation.”
Finding Irina turned out to be easier than expected.
That same evening, Alina ran into Olga Petrovna again, and the neighbor happily informed her that Irina worked at the grocery store not far from their building.
“A plump one, red hair,” she said eagerly. “Usually at the register. Very chatty.”
The next day, Alina went to the store. The red-haired cashier was there.
“Hello,” Alina said, setting her groceries on the belt. “You’re Irina, right?”
The woman lifted her brows in surprise.
“Yes. Do we know each other?”
“No. But you know my mother-in-law, Anna Aleksandrovna Samoylova.”
Irina’s face changed instantly.
“Oh. Annushka. Yes, of course. We’ve known each other for years. So you’re the daughter-in-law?”
“Yes. Alina.” She nodded. “I’d really like to talk to you. Maybe after work?”
Irina hesitated.
“I’m actually quite busy…”
“It’s important,” Alina said quietly but firmly. “It’s about our apartment.”
Irina’s expression turned wary.
“All right. I finish at seven.”
They met that evening in a small café nearby. Alina decided there was no point circling around the issue.
“Irina, I know you and Anna Aleksandrovna are planning something. Something connected to my apartment.”
Irina clutched her teacup.
“I have no idea what you mean.”
“You were seen together,” Alina said calmly. “And your conversation was overheard. You were advising her how to convince us to sell the apartment.”
Irina let out a slow breath and her shoulders sank.
“Listen, I was only helping a friend. Annushka has always dreamed of moving to the city, close to her son. She thought if all of you combined your money and bought a two-bedroom place, it would be better for everyone.”
“And did anyone care what I wanted?” Alina asked. “It’s my apartment. I earned it myself.”
Irina looked down, ashamed.
“Anna said you would agree… if the right conditions were created.”
“So if my life became miserable enough?” Alina said bitterly.
Irina opened her mouth, then closed it again.
“Did she really get only three hundred thousand for the house?”
“No!” Irina blurted out. “Not even close. She got nearly a million. The house was big, with land, and she found a good buyer from the city who wanted it as a country place.”
Something inside Alina went cold.
“So she lied.”
Irina leaned closer.
“I never meant any harm. Anna just wanted to be with her son. She thought if you all moved into a bigger apartment together, everyone would win.”
“Everyone except me,” Alina said.
Irina lowered her eyes again.
“Maybe.”
Alina stood up.
“Thank you, Irina. You’ve told me more than enough.”
Armed with the truth, Alina went home.
Sergey and Anna Aleksandrovna were sitting in the kitchen.
“We need to talk,” she said. “All three of us.”
Sergey looked up immediately.
“What happened?”
“I met Irina,” Alina said, looking straight at her mother-in-law. “We had a very interesting conversation.”
Anna Aleksandrovna’s face went pale.
“What Irina?”
“The one from the grocery store. Your friend. The one who helped you come up with a plan to make us sell the apartment.”
Sergey looked back and forth between them, confused.
“What is she talking about, Mom?”
“Don’t listen to her!” Anna Aleksandrovna cried. “She’s making things up!”
“Is it true,” Alina continued evenly, “that you got nearly a million for the house, not three hundred thousand?”
“What nonsense!” the older woman said, laughing nervously. “Who told you that?”
“Irina,” Alina answered. “Your friend. The one helping you plan this move.”
Sergey turned slowly toward his mother.
“Mom… is that true?”
Anna Aleksandrovna seemed to collapse inward.
“Seryozha, I only wanted what was best. I thought that if we put our money together, we could buy a larger apartment where all of us would have enough room…”
“So you lied about the money,” Sergey said, shaking his head. “And you deliberately made life difficult so we’d want to move?”
“Don’t say it like that!” she cried, grabbing his hand. “I’m your mother! Everything I’ve ever done has been for you!”
“No, Mom,” Sergey said quietly, gently pulling free. “You did this for yourself. You never asked what Alina and I wanted. You just decided for us.”
Tears filled Anna Aleksandrovna’s eyes.
“I had to stay near you. I’m all alone. Who do I have, if not you?”
“You do have your son,” Alina said unexpectedly softly. “But not as a roommate. As a son. A son whose family deserves respect.”
The next few days were heavy and tense.
Anna Aleksandrovna moved through the apartment in gloomy silence. Sergey was miserable, torn between loyalty to his mother and fairness to his wife. Alina felt guilty at times, though she knew she had done the right thing.
Then one evening, the doorbell rang.
Alina opened the door and blinked in surprise.
A tall man in a business suit stood there with a polite smile.
“Good evening. You must be Alina. I’m Konstantin, a real estate agent. Anna Aleksandrovna called me and asked for help finding an apartment.”
“Come in,” Alina said, stepping aside, still stunned.
In the room, Anna Aleksandrovna was already bustling around, offering the guest tea.
“I decided there’s no point putting it off,” she said without looking directly at her daughter-in-law. “Since the money is there, I may as well spend it properly.”
Konstantin spread several printouts across the table.
“I’ve found some excellent options not far from here. One-bedroom apartments in solid buildings.”
“One-bedroom?” Anna Aleksandrovna repeated. “I was thinking of a two-bedroom…”
“That’s possible on your budget too,” the agent said with a nod, “especially if you consider resale properties.”
Alina and Sergey looked at each other.
A two-bedroom apartment? For his mother alone?
“Why would you need that much space, Mom?” Sergey asked. “You’ll be living by yourself.”
Anna Aleksandrovna hesitated.
“Well… I thought maybe you might come live with me. The apartment would be bigger than yours.”
Silence filled the room.
Then Sergey shook his head.
“No, Mom. We have our own home. And we want to live independently.”
“But I could help!” she protested. “Cook, clean…”
“We manage just fine,” Alina said gently but firmly. “But we’d be happy if you lived nearby. We could visit often. Spend time together properly.”
Anna Aleksandrovna looked at the two of them for a long time. Then she let out a weary breath.
“All right, Konstantin. Show me the one-bedroom options.”
Two months later, Alina and Sergey were helping Anna Aleksandrovna move into her new place—a small but cozy one-room apartment in the next building over.
“Careful with that box, there are dishes in there!” she called out as Sergey carried things inside.
Alina stood in the kitchen, arranging jars of jam and pickles.
“It’s a lovely place, Anna Aleksandrovna. Very bright. And the view is nice.”
“Yes, it’s not bad,” the older woman admitted. “And I’m close to you. I’ll stop by sometimes.”
“We’ll come too,” Sergey promised, draping an arm around his mother’s shoulders.
Once most of the boxes had been unpacked, they sat down for tea.
“I’ve been thinking,” Anna Aleksandrovna said suddenly, “maybe I should find a little job. I’m not used to sitting around doing nothing.”
“That’s actually a great idea,” Alina said. “We have an opening at the hotel for a morning receptionist. I could ask about it, if you’d like.”
Her mother-in-law considered it, then nodded.
“You know, I think I could do that. And a little extra money never hurts.”
“And then Sergey and I could finally get some rest,” Alina said with a smile. “I’m taking vacation soon.”
“I could come by on weekends and cook something nice for you both,” Anna Aleksandrovna offered.
“Just call first,” Alina said softly. “So we’ll know you’re coming and can be home to welcome you.”
To Alina’s surprise, her mother-in-law smiled.
“Deal, daughter-in-law.”
On the way home, Sergey took Alina’s hand.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not throwing my mother out right away. For finding a way through this. For even offering her a job.”
Alina gave a small shrug.
“She’s your mother. I just wanted all of us to have our own space. And I think now we finally do.”
“You know,” Sergey said thoughtfully, “maybe in a year or so, we really will start thinking about children. Mom would be nearby, she could help once in a while.”
Alina laughed and leaned against him.
“Slow down. First let’s learn how to live peacefully with your mother at a healthy distance. Then we can start making bigger plans.”
That night, lying in her own apartment, with no creaking floorboards and no noise from the kitchen at five in the morning, Alina thought that sometimes even the hardest situations begin to resolve the moment people finally stop hiding the truth.
And that family is always a balancing act between closeness and independence.
Maybe, at last, they had found theirs.
