Aurora sat by the window, savoring the view. Panoramic windows and an apartment high above the city had been her dream for years, and now it had finally come true. She had worked hard for it, but by twenty-nine she had managed to save enough, entirely on her own, to buy this two-bedroom place in the center of town. The sun gilded the rooftops, the city buzzed far below, and up here on the twenty-fifth floor it was quiet and cozy.
Aurora was happy. Her parents were proud of her. She took a sip of green tea and smiled to herself, feeling not the slightest regret about the life she had chosen. She was a career woman through and through. True, she still was not married, and there was no one promising on the horizon, but she could afford to relax and enjoy her life without depending on anyone. She had an entire day off ahead of her, devoted only to herself: meditation, sleeping in, and maybe binge-watching a series.
The idyllic calm shattered in an instant when the sharp buzz of the intercom cut through the pleasant silence.
Aurora flinched and looked toward the door in surprise. She was not expecting anyone. Her friend Nastya was away on a business trip, her parents lived in another city, and she had not ordered a delivery. Shrugging, she walked to the door, pressed the button, and lifted the receiver.
“Who is it?” she asked, but all she heard in reply was an indistinct crackling sound, followed by a short beep. Someone downstairs had already pressed the button to open the building door.
Aurora assumed one of the neighbors must have made a mistake, and she was about to return to her quiet morning when the doorbell rang again.
This time, at her own door.
Strange. Very strange. Aurora frowned, but she still slid back the latch.
Standing on the landing was her Aunt Vera, her father’s sister, and behind her shuffled Aurora’s cousin Masha. Aunt Vera was gripping the handle of a huge bulging suitcase, while Masha carried a sports bag so heavy it looked as though it were filled with bricks.
“Aunt Vera? Masha?” Aurora managed to say, a cold shiver of foreboding running down her spine. “What are you doing here? What happened?”
Aunt Vera looked her niece up and down with a sharp, appraising glance, then announced loudly enough for the entire stairwell to hear:
“Are we really going to talk on the doorstep? Let us in first. Don’t keep us standing out here.”
Aurora instinctively stepped aside and let them into the hallway. The suitcase thudded over the threshold, and the sports bag landed on the bench, nearly knocking over a vase.
Aunt Vera took off her coat, carelessly hanging it over Aurora’s own, then planted her hands on her hips and surveyed the neat corridor, the polished parquet floor, and the open doorway into the living room. Her face settled into an expression Aurora remembered from childhood all too well: a mix of superiority and brisk domestic authority.
“Well then, sweetheart,” she said, turning briefly to Masha before fixing Aurora with a steady gaze. “Masha and I are going to stay with you for a while.”
Aurora felt her hands begin to tremble. She could not tell whether it was from anger or fear.
“What do you mean, stay with me?” Her voice sounded dull, as though it belonged to someone else.
Aunt Vera stepped into the living room and clicked her tongue admiringly at the sight of the panoramic windows.
“Why are you so surprised? We’re family. You’ve got far too much space for one person anyway. Masha and I have nowhere else to go at the moment, so we decided, why let all this go to waste? We’ll stay here with you for a while. You can help your relatives.”
Aurora froze, unable to believe what she was hearing. Only moments ago she had been enjoying her independence, and now uninvited guests with luggage were forcing their way into her sanctuary, her private world. The sheer audacity of it left her numb for a second, as if shock had stolen her voice.
At last she found it again. The sense of injustice and the outrageousness of the situation overpowered her initial paralysis.
“Wait,” Aurora said, and her voice rang with tension. “Aunt Vera, what exactly happened? Why the sudden move? What happened to your apartment?”
Without asking permission, Aunt Vera lowered herself into the armchair by the window and crossed one leg over the other.
“Oh, don’t ask,” she said dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. “The neighbors upstairs flooded us. The ceilings are ruined, the floors are warped, the whole place needs major repairs.”
Meanwhile, Masha had already opened the closet door in the hallway and was assessing the available space for her clothes.
“And our head of the family is going to handle the renovation,” Aunt Vera continued. “He needs peace and quiet to focus and do it properly. We’d only be in his way, so we decided it would be best to move in with you for a while. You’ve done so well for yourself, bought this gorgeous place and all.”
Aurora felt a deep irritation begin to boil inside her.
“Hold on,” she said, stepping into the living room so they would both look at her. “Why didn’t you go to Grandma and Grandpa’s? They have a big house, three empty rooms. They could use help around the place, and you could help them too.”
Masha, who had been admiring herself in the hallway mirror, snorted and rolled her eyes.
“Aurora, honestly, Grandma’s?” she said, her tone dripping with mockery. “Would you want to live in that old house yourself? Heat the stove, run outside to the toilet? In the twenty-first century? Please.” She gave a dismissive shrug. “This place is perfect. City center, renovated, those huge windows… a hot shower, a heated toilet seat.”
Aunt Vera nodded in agreement, then suddenly shifted onto the offensive. Her eyes narrowed as she locked her gaze on her niece.
“And what is all this questioning, Aurora? Are you really unwilling to help your own family? You’re acting like a stranger, honestly.” She leaned forward. “We took you in, remember, when your parents went away on business trips. Have you forgotten that already? We fed you, took care of you, looked after you. And now you’re turning up your nose at us?”
Aurora gave a crooked smile, a bitter, hollow smile. Her memory instantly offered up a scene from childhood. There had been only one time when her mother had truly asked Aunt Vera to watch eight-year-old Aurora for a couple of days. And what had Aunt Vera done that very evening? Packed the child off to her grandparents, even though they were ill at the time, and left her there. Aurora had gotten drenched in the rain on the way to the bus stop and spent the following week in bed with a fever. Aunt Vera had not even come to see her. And now she dared invent a story of kindness that had never existed and demand gratitude for it.
“Aunt Vera, I remember that ‘care’ very well,” Aurora said coldly, but she did not take the matter further. She knew a direct confrontation would get her nowhere. She needed another way out. Taking a deep breath, she reached for the only argument that might work.
“Listen, it’s not that I’m unwilling to help. It’s that I don’t live here alone.”
Aunt Vera and Masha exchanged glances.
“What do you mean, not alone?” her aunt asked suspiciously.
“I mean exactly that,” Aurora replied, crossing her arms over her chest and forcing confidence into her voice. “I live here with my boyfriend. We’ve been together for six months. He’ll be back soon.” She tried to sound calm and matter-of-fact. “And you have to admit it would be very inappropriate for you to move in on top of us. You’d make him uncomfortable, and you’d put me in an awkward position too.”
For a second, silence settled over the room. Aurora almost believed she had thrown them off balance.
But Aunt Vera recovered quickly. She cast a skeptical glance around the spotless apartment, noticing the absence of any obvious men’s belongings, the single cup on the table.
“Oh, I see,” she drawled. “So now you’ve got yourself a boyfriend? Somehow I don’t believe it, Aurora. You’re hiding something.”
Masha moved to stand beside her mother, copying her skeptical expression.
“Prove it,” Aunt Vera said suddenly, raising her voice. “Let him come and meet the family. If there really is someone, of course.” She narrowed her eyes. “And if there isn’t, then don’t make up stories just to throw your own blood out into the cold. We came to you in good faith, and you want to kick us out? You’ve gotten too full of yourself with this fancy life of yours. Prove you’re not lying, and then we’ll talk.”
Aurora blinked in confusion. She had not expected that turn at all. Caught in her own lie. There was no man in her life, and she had nothing to prove. A crushing feeling of being trapped closed around her.
Her mind raced frantically for a solution. Aunt Vera stood in front of her, boring into her with a hard stare, while Masha wore a smug little smile. She had to think of something, fast, or these two would occupy her apartment, her privacy, her entire life.
And then, like a beam of light through panic, she thought of Pavel.
Her colleague from the analytics department. Tall, handsome, with intelligent gray eyes and an ironic smile. They often had lunch together, talked about books and films, argued over work projects. He was always witty, dependable, and never at a loss for words.
“All right,” Aurora said unexpectedly calmly, taking her phone from the pocket of her robe. “I’ll call him. Just keep in mind, he’s a very direct person.”
Aunt Vera gave a skeptical snort but said nothing. Masha rolled her eyes, clearly unconvinced.
Aurora went into the bedroom and dialed Pavel’s number. Her heart was pounding in her throat. Would he agree? It was a ridiculous request, but she had no one else to turn to.
“Pasha, hi,” she said in a lowered voice. “Could you come to my place right away? It’s… let’s call it an emergency. I need your help. I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend and help me gently send some uninvited guests on their way.” The last words came out almost in a whisper, in case Aunt Vera was standing outside the door listening.
There was a brief pause on the other end, and then Pavel’s calm voice came through, tinged with amusement.
“Send me the address. I’ll be there in an hour.”
“Thank you,” Aurora breathed, and ended the call.
That hour felt like hell. She poured tea, set out the cookies she had been saving for a peaceful Sunday with a book, and listened to Aunt Vera’s endless comments about which furniture should be rearranged because “that would be more practical,” while Masha went on and on about how lucky she was to spend some time living downtown. Aurora stayed silent, sipped her tea as it grew cold, and stared at the clock as though the hands were moving on purpose, just to torment her.
Exactly fifty-nine minutes later, the doorbell rang.
Aurora sprang to her feet so abruptly she nearly knocked over the chair. She flung open the door and saw Pavel standing there. He held a bouquet of roses in one hand and a box of chocolates in the other, clearly committing fully to the part. His eyes took in the scene at once: the luggage in the hallway and the tension written all over Aurora’s face.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he said quietly, but loudly enough to be heard in the living room.
He stepped inside, lightly kissed Aurora on the cheek, slipped an arm around her waist, and walked with her into the room.
“We have guests?” he asked with mild surprise, looking at Aunt Vera and Masha.
Aunt Vera straightened like a rod. Masha, who had been lounging on the sofa a moment before, suddenly tugged at her hoodie and sat upright.
“This is my aunt, Vera Antonovna, and my cousin, Masha,” Aurora said as calmly as she could. “They’ve had… some kind of emergency with their apartment, and they decided to stay with us. I’ve already explained that it won’t work.”
“I see,” Pavel said, setting the chocolates on the table and handing the flowers to Aurora. Then he turned to the visitors and gave them a polite nod, though not a hint of a smile touched his face. “Very nice to meet you. But to be honest, I’m not entirely sure I understand. Perhaps you didn’t know, but Aurora and I live here together.” He gestured around the apartment. “And I am, frankly, absolutely against the idea of strangers moving into our home.”
“How are we strangers?” Aunt Vera shot back, though her voice wavered. “We’re family!”
“Aurora’s family,” Pavel corrected gently but firmly. “To me, you are still strangers. Besides,” he added, with the faintest trace of a smile as he looked at Aurora so warmly that it caught her off guard, “we’re a young couple. You understand how that is. We have our own habits, our own rhythm of life. We’re actually rather noisy, especially at night.” He paused meaningfully. “So if you were hoping for peace, quiet, and domestic comfort, this is definitely not the right place. We didn’t move in together so we could live under restrictions or make other people uncomfortable. So…” He spread his hands slightly. “Please take it as it is, but I’d strongly advise you not to stay. Truly. It would be awkward for everyone.”
Silence followed. Heavy, oppressive silence.
Aunt Vera’s face turned crimson, a flush of humiliation and helpless anger sweeping over her features. She kept darting nervous glances at Masha, as if silently saying, What now? Our whole plan has fallen apart. Masha, who had lost every trace of her earlier boldness, sat red-faced and studied the pattern on her jeans.
“Well… then perhaps we should go,” Aunt Vera muttered as she rose to her feet. “If that’s the situation. We won’t disturb the young couple.”
She began to fuss around, grabbing her coat and nudging the suitcase with her foot. Masha silently picked up her bag. The entire process of collecting themselves took less than three minutes. At the door, Aunt Vera tried to throw Aurora one last look of reproach, but Pavel’s icy politeness met her halfway, and she hurried out into the hallway.
The door clicked shut.
The silence that followed was different now. Calm. Liberating.
Aurora leaned back against the wall and exhaled as though she had not truly breathed the whole time.
“Pash… I don’t even know how to thank you. You saved me. I really thought they were going to settle in here and push me out of my own apartment. Thank you so much. I didn’t want a fight, after all—they’re family, whether I like it or not…”
“It’s nothing,” Pavel said with his usual easy, slightly lazy smile, but then his expression turned serious. He looked at Aurora not like a colleague, but in a different way entirely. Intently. Warmly. With a trace of sadness. “Really, it’s nothing, Aurora.” He paused. “The only pity is that it isn’t true. That we’re not actually together.”
He stopped still, as if realizing only then that he had said it out loud.
Aurora froze too.
She looked at him—at his clear profile, the faint stubble on his jaw, his intelligent eyes that now revealed exactly how he felt. She saw Pavel every day at work, but here, in her apartment, after the way he had stepped so naturally into the role of her man and protected her without hesitation, she saw him differently. He was not just a friend. Not just a colleague. And suddenly, with startling clarity, with a shiver running down her skin, she realized that she truly liked him.
Very much.
“We… could change that,” Aurora said softly. “If that’s really what you want.”
Pavel smiled and stepped closer.
“I’ve wanted that for a long time…”
He pulled Aurora into his arms, silently grateful that her brazen relatives had stormed in and shattered her peace. Because now he had been given a chance—and he had no intention of wasting it.
