Katya closed the apartment door behind her and let out a long, exhausted sigh. The project at work had drained her all day, yet the tension waiting for her at home was even heavier.
“Late again!” Lyudmila’s sharp voice cut through the air as Katya stepped inside.
Katya removed her coat slowly, her eyes scanning the cluttered kitchen where Sasha sat staring blankly at the TV, and his parents busily rearranging things as if they owned the place.
“I told you to come by seven,” Lyudmila scolded again. “Sasha’s been waiting for dinner.”
Katya’s hands clenched into fists, but she forced calm. “I had to finish the project. It was important.”
“Oh, work again,” Lyudmila sneered. “And what about your husband? Who’s thinking about him?”
Sasha shifted uncomfortably, avoiding Katya’s gaze. “Maybe you should try to come home earlier,” he mumbled.
Katya swallowed the bitter sting. It was a side of Sasha she hadn’t seen before. “Two or three months,” Lyudmila declared suddenly. “That’s how much longer we’ll stay. We have nowhere else.”
Katya’s heart sank. “But you promised…”
Lyudmila waved her off. “Plans change.”
Then came the cruelest blow. “Maybe we should just sell our apartment and all live here,” Lyudmila smiled sweetly. “It’s big enough.”
Katya stared at Sasha, searching for support. But he nodded along. “It’s not so bad, Katya. We’ll help.”
“Help?” Katya’s voice shook with anger. “You don’t see this is my home? My life?”
Lyudmila scoffed. “You’re just a guest here now.”
“No,” Katya said firmly, standing tall despite the tears threatening. “This is my home. And I won’t be pushed aside.”
Sasha tried to intervene, “Katya, let’s talk—”
“I’ve said enough,” she cut him off. “I will fight for my peace. For my home.”