Aurora sat by the window, gazing out at the view with pure pleasure. Panoramic windows and an apartment on a high floor had been her dream for years, and now it had finally come true. She had had to work very hard, but by twenty-nine she had managed to save up enough, entirely on her own, to buy this two-bedroom apartment in the city center. The sun gilded the rooftops, the city hummed 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 thought with satisfaction that she did not regret her choice one bit. She was a career woman to the core. Yes, she still had not married, and there was no one worthy on the horizon, but she could afford to relax and enjoy life, dependent on no one. A whole day off stretched ahead, devoted entirely to herself: meditation, sleeping in, and maybe watching some series.
The idyll collapsed in an instant when the sharp trill of the intercom shattered the pleasant, soothing silence.
Aurora flinched and looked at the door in surprise. She was not expecting any visitors at all. Her friend Nastya was away on a business trip, her parents were in another city, and she had not called for any delivery today. Shrugging, she walked over to the door, pressed the button, and lifted the receiver to her ear.
“Who is it?” she asked, but in response there was only an indistinct crackling sound, followed by a short beep—the downstairs door had already been opened.
Aurora thought that one of the neighbors must have pressed the wrong button. She was about to return to her peaceful morning when the bell rang again.
This time, at the apartment door itself.
Strange. Very strange. Aurora frowned, but she still unlatched the door.
Standing on the landing was her Aunt Vera, her father’s sister, and behind her, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, was her cousin Masha. Aunt Vera was gripping the handle of a huge, bulging suitcase, while Masha held a sports bag that, judging by the way it dragged down her shoulder, might as well have been filled with bricks.
“Aunt Vera? Masha?” Aurora managed to say, feeling a chill of foreboding run down her spine. “What are you doing here? What happened?”
Aunt Vera swept her niece with a sharp glance, looking her up and down from head to slippers, then declared loudly for the entire landing to hear:
“Are we really going to talk on the doorstep? Let us in first, don’t keep us standing in the hall.”
Automatically, Aurora stepped aside and let the relatives into the entryway. The suitcase rumbled over the threshold, and the sports bag landed on the ottoman, nearly knocking over the vase beside it.
Aunt Vera took off her coat, hung it brazenly over Aurora’s raincoat, then planted her hands on her hips and surveyed the clean hallway, the parquet floor, and the open door to the living room. A look came over her face that Aurora remembered from childhood: a mixture of superiority and bossy domestic authority.
“Well then, dear,” she said, turning to Masha, then shifting her gaze to the stunned Aurora. “Masha and I are going to stay with you for a while.”
Aurora felt her hands begin to tremble uncontrollably. She could not tell what was causing it more—rage or fear.
“What do you mean, stay with me?” Her voice sounded dull, as if it were coming from somewhere far away.
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 to stay for now, so we decided—why let a good thing go to waste? We’ll stay here with you for a while. You can help out your relatives.”
Aurora froze, unable to believe what she was hearing. Just moments ago she had been enjoying her independence, and now uninvited guests with luggage were barging into the most sacred thing she had—her private space. The sheer audacity of it left her in such shock that she could not speak.
At last she found her voice. Her sense of injustice and outrage overpowered her initial stupor.
“Wait,” Aurora said, her voice ringing with tension. “Aunt Vera, what exactly happened? Why this sudden move? What happened to your apartment?”
Without asking permission, Aunt Vera made herself comfortable in the armchair by the window, crossing one leg over the other.
“Oh, don’t even ask,” she said theatrically, pressing a hand to her chest. “The neighbors upstairs flooded us. Our ceilings are ruined, the floors have swollen, everything needs major repairs.”
Meanwhile, Masha had already opened the closet in the hallway and was assessing the free space for her things.
“And the head of our family is going to handle the repairs,” Aunt Vera continued. “He needs to concentrate so he can do everything properly. We’d only get in the way underfoot, so we decided it would be best to move in with you for a while. You’ve done so well for yourself—bought such a lovely apartment.”
Aurora felt a dull irritation begin to boil inside her.
“Wait a second,” she said, stepping farther into the living room to get their attention. “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 too, and you could help them while you stayed.”
Masha, who was admiring herself in the large mirror in the hallway, snorted and rolled her eyes.
“Aurora, come on, Grandma’s?” There was open mockery in her voice. “Would you want to live in that old house yourself? Heat the stove, run outside to use the toilet? In the twenty-first century?” She shrugged. “And here at your place—it’s gorgeous. City center, European-style renovation, these panoramic windows… hot shower, even a heated toilet seat.”
Aunt Vera nodded in agreement, then suddenly went on the attack. Her eyes narrowed as she fixed her niece with a hard stare.
“And what is all this questioning, Aurora? Are you seriously unwilling to let your own relatives stay? Honestly, you’re acting like we’re strangers.” She leaned forward. “And just so you remember, we took you in when your parents went away on business trips. Have you forgotten that already? We fed you, looked after you, took care of you. And now you turn your nose up at us?”
Aurora gave a crooked smile. A bitter, bleak smile touched her lips. Her memory obligingly supplied a picture from childhood. Once—just once—her mother had asked Aunt Vera to watch eight-year-old Aurora for a couple of days. And what had Aunt Vera done that very same evening? Packed the child off to Grandma and Grandpa, who had both been sick at the time, and left her there. Aurora had gotten soaked in the rain on the way to the bus stop and ended up spending the entire week sick with a fever. Aunt Vera had not even come to visit her. And now she dared invent things that had never happened and demand gratitude for them?
“Aunt Vera, I remember that ‘care,’” Aurora said coldly, but she did not continue. She knew a direct argument would get her nowhere; she had to find another way out. Taking a deep breath, she produced the only argument she thought might work.
“Listen, it’s not that I don’t want to help. It’s that I don’t live here alone.”
Aunt Vera and Masha exchanged glances.
“What do you mean, not alone?” Aunt Vera asked warily.
“I mean exactly that,” Aurora said as confidently as she could, crossing her arms over her chest. “I live here with my boyfriend. We’ve been together for six months. He should be back soon.” She tried to keep her voice steady. “And you have to admit, it would be very inappropriate to interfere in our relationship and live with us in the same apartment. You’d make him uncomfortable, and you’d put me in an awkward position too.”
For a second, silence fell over the room. Aurora almost believed she had managed to throw them off.
But Aunt Vera recovered quickly. She cast a skeptical glance over the immaculate apartment, the absence of any men’s things in sight, the single lonely cup on the table.
“Oh, I see,” she said mockingly. “So you’ve got yourself a boyfriend now? Somehow I don’t believe it, Aurora. You’re hiding something.”
Masha came closer and stood beside her mother, copying her skeptical expression.
“Then prove it,” Aunt Vera suddenly declared, raising her voice. “Let him come and meet the relatives. If you really do have someone, of course.” She narrowed her eyes. “And if you don’t, then stop telling stories and throwing your own flesh and blood out into the cold. We came to you in good faith, and you want to kick us out? You’ve gotten awfully full of yourself with your fancy life. Prove you’re not lying, and then we’ll talk.”
Aurora blinked in confusion. She had not expected the conversation to turn like this at all. She had been caught in her own lie. There really was no man in her life, and she had nothing to prove. A feeling of being cornered crashed over her.
Her mind raced frantically for a way out. Aunt Vera stood opposite her, drilling into her with her eyes, while Masha twisted her lips into a smug smile. She had to think of something fast, or those two would take over her apartment, her personal space, her life.
And then, like a ray of light breaking 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, discussed books and films, argued about work projects. He was always gallant, witty, and dependable. And he certainly was not the kind of man to be at a loss for words.
“All right,” Aurora said unexpectedly calmly, pulling her phone out of the pocket of her robe. “I’ll call him. But keep in mind, he’s a very straightforward person.”
Aunt Vera gave a skeptical snort but said nothing. Masha rolled her eyes, making it clear she did not believe a word.
Aurora went into the other room and dialed Pavel’s number. Her heart was pounding somewhere in her throat. Would he agree? It was a ridiculous request, but there was no one else she could turn to.
“Pash, hi,” she said in a lowered voice. “Could you come over to my place right away? The situation is… let’s just say, 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,” she finished almost in a whisper, since Aunt Vera might be standing by the door listening.
There was the briefest pause on the other end, and then Pavel’s calm, slightly amused voice came through:
“Give 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, took out the cookies she had been saving for a quiet Sunday with a book, and listened to Aunt Vera’s endless comments about where furniture should be rearranged because “it would be more convenient that way,” and Masha’s delighted chatter about how lucky she was to get to stay in the city center. Aurora kept silent, sipped her cooling tea, and stared at the clock hand, which moved unbearably slowly.
Exactly fifty-nine minutes later, the doorbell rang.
Aurora sprang up so abruptly that she nearly knocked over the chair. She flung the door open and saw Pavel. He stood on the doorstep with a bouquet of roses in one hand and a box of chocolates in the other—for credibility, apparently. His eyes immediately took in the situation: the suitcases in the hallway and the tension on Aurora’s face.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he said quietly, but clearly enough to be heard in the living room. He stepped inside, kissed Aurora lightly on the cheek, and, slipping an arm around her waist, walked into the room. “Do we have guests?” he asked with mild surprise, looking at Aunt Vera and Masha.
Aunt Vera drew herself up like a string pulled taut. Masha, who had been sprawled carelessly in her seat a second ago, suddenly tugged down her sweater and sat up straight.
“This is my aunt, Vera Antonovna, and my cousin Masha,” Aurora said as calmly as she could. “There’s been… an emergency with their apartment, and they decided to stay with us. I already told them that it won’t work.”
“I see.” Pavel set the chocolates on the table and handed the flowers to Aurora. Then he turned to the relatives and gave them a polite nod without a trace of a smile. “Very nice to meet you. Only, to be honest, I’m a little confused. You probably don’t know this, but Aurora and I live together.” He gestured around the apartment. “And I, for one, am absolutely against strangers moving into our home.”
“How are we strangers?” Aunt Vera burst out, though her voice wavered. “We’re family!”
“Aurora’s family,” Pavel corrected gently but firmly. “To me, at this point, you are strangers. Besides,” he said with a slight smile, turning to Aurora with such warmth that it took her breath away, “we’re a young couple. You understand—we have our own habits, our own rhythm of life. We’re very noisy, especially at night.” He paused meaningfully. “So if you were counting on peaceful sleep and a quiet household, this is definitely not the place for you. We didn’t move in together just to start restraining ourselves and making other people uncomfortable. So…” He spread his hands. “Please take it as it is, but I’d advise you not to stay here. Really, it would be awkward for everyone.”
Silence fell. Heavy, oppressive silence. Aunt Vera flushed crimson. A hot wave of humiliation and helpless anger flooded her face. She shot nervous glances at Masha, as if saying with her eyes, And now what are we supposed to do? Our plan has failed. Masha, all her boldness gone, sat red as a lobster and stared at the pattern on her jeans.
“We… well, I suppose we’ll go, then,” Aunt Vera muttered, getting to her feet. “Since that’s the situation. We won’t get in the way of the young couple.”
She fussed about, grabbing her coat and kicking the suitcase into place. Masha silently picked up her bag. The entire packing process took no more than three minutes. At the door, Aunt Vera tried to throw one last reproachful look at her niece, but met Pavel’s icy politeness instead and hurried out into the stairwell.
The door slammed shut.
The silence that followed was different—calm, liberating.
Aurora leaned back against the wall and exhaled as if she had not breathed the entire time.
“Pash… I don’t even know how to thank you. You saved me. I thought they were going to settle in here and drive me out of my own apartment. Thank you so much. I didn’t want a fight, after all—they’re relatives, whatever you say…”
“It was nothing,” Pavel said with his usual lazy little smile, but suddenly his взгляд turned serious. He was looking at Aurora not like a colleague, but differently—intently, warmly, with a hint of sadness. “Really, it was nothing, Aurora.” He paused. “The only pity is that it isn’t true. That we’re not actually together.”
He went still. It seemed he had realized he had said it out loud.
Aurora froze too. She looked at him—at his sharply defined profile, the faint stubble, the intelligent eyes that were now giving away all his feelings. She saw Pavel every day at work, but now, here in her apartment, after he had played this role and slipped into the part of her man so naturally, she was seeing him in an entirely new way. He was not just a friend. Not just a colleague. Suddenly, unmistakably, down to the shiver running across her skin, she realized that she really did like him.
Very much.
“We… could fix that,” Aurora said carefully. “If that’s really what you want.”
Pavel smiled and stepped forward.
“I’ve wanted that for a long time…”
He wrapped his arms around Aurora, inwardly glad that her brazen relatives had shown up and shattered her peace. Because now he had been given a chance, and he had no intention of wasting it.
