“You can’t sell that studio apartment! Mom has already arranged who’s going to live there after the renovation,” her husband snapped.
Alina slowly lifted her eyes from the documents.
On the table lay an open folder containing an extract from the property register, the inheritance agreement, and a preliminary contract with a real estate agency. Beside it were a notebook filled with calculations and a pen she had been absentmindedly turning between her fingers for the last ten minutes.
That morning, everything had seemed clear and calm.
She had made her final decision to sell the studio.
No doubts.
No discussions.
No advice from anyone else.
But now Vlad was standing in the doorway, and the look on his face ruined the entire evening at once.
He had not even taken off his jacket.
He had only slammed the front door so hard that the mirror in the hallway trembled.
“Did you even hear what I said?” he demanded irritably.
Alina silently closed the folder.
Carefully.
Not sharply.
As if that very calmness irritated her husband even more.
“Since when does your mother get to make decisions about my apartment?” she asked evenly.
Vlad jerked his chin.
“Don’t start.”
“I haven’t even started yet.”
“Everything has already been decided! People were promised a place to live! Mom arranged it with her acquaintances!”
Alina stared at her husband for several seconds, as if trying to understand whether he was serious or simply did not realize how absurd his words sounded.
Then she slowly leaned back in her chair.
“So your mother found tenants for my apartment before anyone asked me?”
“No one was trying to take it away from you! Why are you getting worked up immediately?”
Alina’s cheek twitched.
She stood up abruptly from the table.
“Vlad, this is the studio apartment I inherited after my aunt died. I received it personally. As an inheritance. You know that perfectly well.”
“So what? We’re a family!”
“Don’t use that phrase when you’re trying to cover up someone else’s arrogance.”
He exhaled loudly and ran a hand through his hair.
“You’re making everything complicated on purpose.”
“No. I’m simply hearing for the first time that someone has already been placed in my apartment without my knowledge.”
Vlad came closer to the table.
“Larisa and her son will live there.”
“Who is Larisa?”
“Mom’s friend.”
Alina gave a short laugh.
Quiet.
Joyless.
“Wonderful. So your mother is now handing out other people’s property to her friends.”
“She’s in a difficult situation!”
“And I have no desire to support strangers.”
“No one is asking you to support anyone!”
“Really?” Alina looked straight at him. “And who is supposed to pay for the renovation?”
Vlad looked away.
That was enough.
She understood everything immediately.
“Don’t even start…” he muttered through his teeth.
“No, you don’t start. Your mother has already decided who will live there. Now it turns out I’m supposed to pay for the renovation too?”
He said nothing.
That was answer enough.
Alina slowly nodded.
“Unbelievable.”
“It only needs some cosmetic repairs.”
“With my money?”
“You have that apartment!”
“And your mother has a habit of treating other people’s things as her own!”
Vlad suddenly slammed his palm down on the table.
“Stop yelling about my mother!”
Alina did not even flinch.
She only looked at his hand.
Then she said calmly:
“Someone is trying to turn my apartment into free housing for strangers. And you’re still surprised by my reaction?”
He started pacing around the room.
Heavy steps.
Sharp movements.
As though he were the victim here.
“Normal people help relatives!”
“Larisa is not a relative.”
“She’s like a sister to Mom!”
“Then let your mother move her into her own place.”
Vlad stopped abruptly.
“Mom has a small apartment.”
“And mine is extra?”
He gave an irritated laugh.
“Of course. You were going to sell it anyway.”
“Exactly. Sell it. Not donate it to charity.”
Silence settled over the room.
The noise of cars drifted in from the street.
Somewhere upstairs, a door slammed loudly.
Alina walked over to the window and crossed her arms over her chest.
She was beginning to tremble with anger, but her voice remained calm.
And that frightened Vlad more than shouting.
“Do you even understand how this looks?” she asked.
“How?”
“As if you all made the decision behind my back.”
“No one decided anything!”
“Vlad, your mother has already promised my apartment to people!”
“Because she was sure you wouldn’t make a scene!”
Alina turned sharply.
“A scene?”
He realized he had said too much, but he was no longer willing to back down.
“Yes! Because it isn’t normal to cling to an empty studio apartment!”
“It is not empty! It is mine!”
“So what? You don’t even live there!”
“And that gave your mother the right to move in whoever she wanted?”
Vlad clenched his jaw.
“You’ve become greedy.”
Alina’s eyebrows rose slowly.
“Greedy?”
“Yes! Everything is yours, yours, yours!”
She was silent for several seconds.
Then she went to the table and picked up the folder.
“Fine. Then let’s remember a few things.”
She began counting on her fingers.
“The studio is mine. By inheritance. I bought my car before marriage. Your mother did not contribute a single coin to the down payment for this apartment. And now I’m being told I’m obligated to hand over my property to some unknown Larisa because it’s convenient for someone else?”
“Don’t twist everything!”
“What else would you call it?”
He raised his voice again.
“People only wanted to live there temporarily!”
“Temporarily means how long?”
“Until her son finishes college.”
Alina actually laughed.
Briefly.
Nervously.
“Are you serious right now?”
“What’s the big deal?”
“Vlad, that’s several years!”
He spread his arms as though she were failing to grasp something obvious.
“So what? Do you feel sorry for them or something?”
“Yes.”
The answer came so quickly and calmly that Vlad froze.
“Yes, I do feel sorry. Because it is my apartment. And I am not going to finance someone else’s life.”
He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time.
“So that’s who you really are…”
Alina slowly placed the folder back on the table.
“No. I simply stayed silent for too long before.”
He gave a nervous laugh.
“Of course. Now you’ve decided to show your character.”
“No. I’ve decided to put an end to this circus.”
Vlad suddenly grabbed the documents from the table.
“There will be no sale!”
Alina immediately stepped toward him.
“Put the papers down.”
“No!”
“Vlad.”
“I said no!”
He held the documents so tightly that the sheets crumpled in his hand.
Alina looked at her husband and suddenly understood one simple thing with absolute clarity.
He did not consider that studio apartment her property at all.
Neither did he.
Nor his mother.
To them, it had long ago become a “family resource” that could be used however they wished.
Move people in.
Demand repairs.
Make promises.
And her opinion had turned out to be unnecessary in their plan.
That hurt most of all.
Not the apartment itself.
Not the scandal.
But the feeling that she had simply been erased from decisions about her own life.
“Give me the documents,” she said quietly.
“No. Not until you calm down.”
Alina silently took out her phone.
Vlad frowned.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling the police.”
He actually recoiled.
“Have you lost your mind?”
“No. But right now you are holding my documents and causing a scene in my apartment.”
“Just try it!”
She was already dialing.
At that moment, Vlad threw the folder back onto the table.
The papers scattered across the floor.
“You’re insane!” he shouted.
Alina looked at the papers spread across the floor.
Then she looked back at her husband.
And very calmly said:
“Pack your things.”
Vlad blinked.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“You’re kicking me out because of an apartment?”
“No. Because you and your mother decided you could control my life.”
He laughed nervously.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Alina nodded slowly.
“Fine.”
She picked up the phone again.
This time Vlad understood she was not bluffing.
“You’re really going to call the police?”
“Absolutely.”
“Over a domestic argument?”
“No. Because a man is refusing to leave the owner’s apartment after being told to go.”
He stared at her for several seconds.
Then he angrily grabbed his jacket from the chair.
“You’ll regret this.”
“No.”
“Mom was right about you.”
“Excellent. Then go to her.”
He stepped almost right up to her.
“You think you’re so special because of that studio?”
Alina lifted her eyes.
“No. I’m simply the only person in this apartment who understands boundaries.”
Vlad yanked the door handle.
But before leaving, he still turned around.
“Larisa has already started preparing to move.”
“Then I suggest she urgently start looking for another place to live.”
He left, slamming the door again.
This time even harder.
Alina remained standing alone in the middle of the room.
For several seconds, she did not move.
Then she slowly sank into a chair.
Her hands were shaking.
She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes.
Her head was buzzing.
Not from fear.
From fury.
Because this had not begun yesterday.
She had simply ignored too many things before.
When her mother-in-law said:
“The studio could use a little freshening up.”
When comments suddenly began appearing:
“It’s a good neighborhood. Quiet.”
When Vlad once asked:
“Are you absolutely sure you want to sell it?”
Back then, Alina had not understood that they already had a complete plan.
Without her.
She stood up sharply and began gathering the papers from the floor.
One sheet was marked with the dirty print of Vlad’s shoe.
And for some reason, that was what finally broke something inside her.
She stared at the muddy footprint and felt her face grow hot.
As if that mark were the perfect symbol of everything that had happened.
Strangers had already stepped into her property with dirty boots.
Forty minutes later, the phone rang.
Her mother-in-law.
Alina was not even surprised.
She answered immediately.
“What have you done?” Galina Pavlovna began without greeting her.
“Good evening.”
“Don’t you give me that! Vlad came over like a stranger!”
“Then there must be a reason.”
“You threw your husband out of the house over some apartment?”
“Because you decided to make decisions about my property.”
Her mother-in-law snorted with irritation.
“No one made any decisions!”
“Really? Then why were you looking for tenants?”
“Because the apartment shouldn’t stand empty!”
Alina walked to the window.
Outside, a light rain was falling.
People hurried along the street, pulling their hoods over their heads.
Inside her, everything only grew colder.
“Galina Pavlovna, do you even understand how abnormal this is?”
“What’s abnormal is your greed!”
“My greed is wanting to manage my own property myself?”
“In a family, everything should be shared!”
Alina tiredly closed her eyes.
Again.
That convenient phrase again, used to justify every intrusion.
“No,” she said calmly. “Inheritance does not become shared property.”
Silence fell on the other end.
Then her mother-in-law spoke more harshly:
“You are destroying everything on purpose.”
“No. I simply stopped you in time.”
“People were already counting on that apartment!”
“Did anyone ask me?”
“Vlad is your husband!”
“And that does not make him the owner of my studio.”
Her mother-in-law raised her voice.
“How dare you speak to us like that?”
Unexpectedly, Alina smiled.
Coldly.
Tiredly.
“Finally, properly.”
And she ended the call.
Almost immediately, the phone began vibrating again.
Then again.
And again.
She turned it face down.
Enough.
For today, it was definitely enough.
The next morning, Alina woke up to the sound of the doorbell.
The clock showed half past eight.
She immediately knew who it was.
She did not even need to look through the peephole.
Her mother-in-law.
Of course.
Galina Pavlovna stood in the hallway with the expression of someone who had arrived for serious negotiations.
Beside her stood Vlad.
Gloomy.
Sleep-deprived.
Already irritated.
Alina opened the door only wide enough to step outside herself.
“We’re coming in,” her mother-in-law declared.
“No.”
The woman was genuinely taken aback.
“What do you mean, no?”
“It means I don’t want to see you in my home.”
Vlad stepped forward.
“Alina, stop putting on a show.”
She looked at her husband.
Then at his mother.
And suddenly, in a very calm voice, she said:
“The keys.”
“What?”
“Vlad, put the keys to the apartment in my hand.”
He frowned.
“Seriously?”
“Absolutely.”
“I live here.”
“Not anymore.”
Her mother-in-law threw up her hands.
“You’ve lost all shame!”
Alina turned sharply toward her.
“No. You have lost all sense of boundaries.”
Galina Pavlovna opened her mouth, but Alina was already speaking.
“You found tenants. Planned a renovation. Decided the fate of my apartment. And now you come here demanding access to my home?”
Vlad reached into his pocket so abruptly, as though he were trying to prove something to himself.
The keychain jingled in his palm.
He looked at it for several seconds.
Then, with obvious irritation, he placed it in Alina’s hand.
“Happy now?”
She calmly put the keys into her pocket.
“Now I am.”
Her mother-in-law turned pale with anger.
“You’ll come crawling back to apologize!”
Alina slowly shook her head.
“No. But now you will have to explain to your Larisa why the apartment has suddenly disappeared.”
And she closed the door right in their faces.
No shouting.
No hysterics.
But that calm final point turned out to be the most painful blow of all.
