Anna stepped through the front door, exhausted after a long shift at the office. As she moved down the hallway, she could hear the murmur of familiar voices in the living room. It was Mikhail’s brother, Sergey, and his family. Again. “Just for a week,” Sergey had said three months ago, but it had turned into a seemingly endless stay.
She sighed, taking off her shoes as she walked into the kitchen. Mikhail was at the stove, busy cooking dinner for what felt like an entire army. The apartment was already cramped with four people, and Anna knew that adding another baby to the mix would only make things worse.
“How was work?” Mikhail asked, still focused on the frying pan in front of him.
“I’m tired,” Anna said, her voice tinged with frustration. “But Mikhail, what’s going on with Sergey and his family?”
Mikhail glanced up at her briefly, before looking back down at the pan. “They’re leaving soon, don’t worry. I’ll talk to him about it.”
Anna couldn’t help but feel her pulse quicken. This wasn’t the first time he had promised to have a “serious talk” with his brother, but they were still here, still occupying her space, her life.
She tried to calm herself, took a deep breath, and then broke the news she had been holding onto for a while. “I’m pregnant.”
Mikhail froze for a moment before his face lit up. He set down the spatula and rushed over to her, enveloping her in a warm hug. “Really? That’s wonderful news! We’ll be parents.”
Anna smiled faintly, but her heart was heavy. “Yes, it’s wonderful. But now, we need to start preparing. The baby will need its own room, Mikhail. We have to renovate the nursery.”
His smile faded slightly, his eyes drifting back to the stove. “Of course, we’ll get it done.”
“But how?” Anna pressed. “We can’t keep living like this, with four people in the living room. There’s no space, and I’m already four months pregnant. We need to start preparing.”
Mikhail didn’t answer right away, and Anna could feel the tension in the air. Finally, he muttered, “I’ll talk to Sergey again.”
Days passed, and Sergey’s family remained. Mikhail’s cousins showed up next, “Just to stay for a night,” they said. But one night turned into two, and two into weeks. The apartment was overflowing, and Anna was beginning to feel suffocated.
One evening, as Sergey’s children fought over toys in the hallway, Anna snapped. “This has to end. Now.”
Mikhail looked up from his phone, clearly distracted. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying it’s time for your family to leave! I’m pregnant, Mikhail! We need space. Your relatives have been living here for months, and now you want me to keep quiet about it? I’ve had enough!”
Mikhail stood silently, not meeting her eyes.
“Does my opinion not matter?” Anna’s voice broke. “Am I not family?”
Before Mikhail could respond, his mother, Valentina Petrovna, walked in uninvited. She was tall, imposing, and always had a way of making her presence known. Anna didn’t even have time to greet her before Valentina started speaking.
“Mikhail told me about your demands,” Valentina began coldly, not even looking at Anna. “You’re upset about the house. Well, let me remind you, this is a family home. And we’ve always supported each other. A little more inconvenience is nothing.”
Anna could feel the anger bubbling inside her, but she fought to stay calm. “I’m not asking for much. Just to prepare a room for our baby.”
“This apartment is mine,” Valentina snapped. “And your ‘baby’ won’t need a room for a while. Why make such a fuss over a little inconvenience?”
Anna’s patience wore thin. “I am the wife of your son and the mother of your grandchild. I deserve to have a say here too.”
“Oh, don’t be dramatic. You’re just the wife. Your place is to take care of things, not dictate them.”
Anna’s heart sank. Her own mother-in-law, dismissing her, belittling her as if she had no rights in the home. She turned to Mikhail, who was silent, his eyes downcast.
“I see,” Anna said quietly, her voice trembling. “So, my opinion doesn’t matter.”
With that, Anna retreated to their bedroom, trying to control her emotions. Valentina’s voice echoed down the hallway. “Know your place.”
The next weekend, Anna’s sister Irina arrived. She had heard the tension in Anna’s voice and immediately rolled up her sleeves to help with the nursery. “You deserve better than this,” Irina said as they worked side by side, wallpapering the room with a playful teddy bear print and assembling the crib.
Mikhail, meanwhile, occasionally peeked in, offering half-hearted compliments before disappearing back into the living room with the rest of the family. Anna couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of loneliness.
“I wish I could help more,” Mikhail muttered once, but it was clear he wasn’t going to do much more than that.
“I can do this myself,” Anna replied, though the words stung. She didn’t want to do this alone.
Two weeks later, the nursery was finally ready. The crib was in place, the shelves hung, and everything was just right. But Anna couldn’t shake the feeling that she was raising her child in an atmosphere that wasn’t just overcrowded — it was suffocating.
Irina, sensing Anna’s frustration, gave her a comforting hug. “If you need to, you can always come to my place.”
“I don’t know if I can take this anymore, Irina,” Anna said quietly. “I don’t know if this will ever change.”
“Anya, dear,” Irina said softly, “kids don’t change people. They only amplify what’s already there.”
The day came when Anna gave birth to a healthy, calm little girl named Sofya. Mikhail swore he would be the best father, showering Anna with affection and promises of a wonderful future.
But as they prepared to leave the hospital, Mikhail dropped a bombshell. “My mom’s already prepared a dinner at our place. She invited some guests to meet Sofya.”
Anna was too exhausted to argue, but she didn’t want to go. “Mikhail, I just gave birth! I need to rest. Please, let’s just go home.”
Mikhail, though, insisted, and Anna reluctantly agreed.
When they arrived home, Anna’s heart stopped. In the nursery, beside the crib and teddy bear wallpaper, lay a stranger — a young man, lounging on a folding bed with a laptop on his stomach.
“Who is this?” Anna demanded, holding Sofya protectively in her arms.
Mikhail stood frozen in the doorway, his face pale. “Anna, I… I don’t know how to explain this.”