Positioned by the kitchen window, Lena observed the drab blocks of flats stretching outside. She silently tallied the remaining months on her mortgage. Just four more years of payments, and this modest two-room apartment located in a quiet residential area would be fully hers and Andrey’s.Four years marked by a tight budget, prioritizing only essentials over luxuries, with monthly installments of thirty-eight thousand rubles.
“Len, want some coffee?” Andrey’s voice came from another room.
“I’ll have some,” she replied without turning away from the window.
After five years of joint efforts, they finally attained this apartment. Lena worked as an economist in a trading firm, while Andrey was employed as a sales manager. They scrimped and saved every ruble to afford the down payment, foregoing vacations, entertainment, and new clothes. When the keys were finally handed over, Lena was overcome with emotion and wept openly. Owning a home was a dream they had long yearned to realize.
Suddenly, the phone shattered the morning stillness.
“Yelena Viktorovna? Notary Petrova speaking. I have some wonderful news for you.”
Lena struggled to believe what she heard. Aunt Zina, her late mother’s sister—whom she barely knew—had bequeathed her a one-room apartment located in the city center. It wasn’t large but was situated in a reputable neighborhood within a Stalin-era building.
“Andrey!” Lena called after the call ended. “You won’t believe what just happened!”
His hair disheveled and a curious look on his face, Andrey came out holding his coffee mug.
“What is it?”
“We inherited another apartment! From Aunt Zina!”
Andrey placed his cup down and embraced his wife.
“That’s fantastic! So what if we sell this one, clear the mortgage, and relocate to the center?”
“Or, we could rent it out and keep this place ourselves. It would generate a good income.”
“Or maybe liquidate both properties and upgrade to something larger?”
The couple spent the night discussing possibilities, with Lena feeling elated—finally, additional financial freedom and choices.
A week later, as the paperwork for inheritance proceeded, they visited the newly acquired apartment. Although it consisted of only one room, its high ceilings and expansive windows gave it spaciousness. Although repairs were needed, its potential was unmistakable.
“What a gem,” Lena exclaimed while standing in the empty space. “Imagine the design ideas we could implement…”
“My mom rang me today,” Andrey said suddenly, eyeing the old wallpaper. “I told her about the apartment.”
“How did she react?”
“She was delighted and said they would visit this weekend to check it out.”
Lena nodded cautiously. Deep inside, unease stirred. Galina Petrovna, her mother-in-law, was a formidable, opinionated woman who never shied away from voicing her judgment. Meanwhile, Nikolai Ivanovich, the father-in-law, usually simply agreed with his wife.
The following Saturday, Andrey’s parents arrived early in the day. Galina Petrovna immediately took charge without offering Lena a proper greeting.
“Show us the apartment now,” she commanded sharply. “We need to see it for ourselves.”
The couple and his parents toured the place while Lena remained at home, citing chores. Truthfully, she wished to avoid her mother-in-law’s presumptuous advice regarding her inheritance.
Upon their return after two hours, Galina Petrovna was bubbling with enthusiasm.
“Excellent location, good apartment, needs some repairs but nothing unmanageable. Your father and I have discussed it—we intend to give the apartment to Irochka.”
Lena recoiled in shock.
“Who are you talking about?”
“Irochka, of course,” the mother-in-law replied with surprise. “She has two children; Seryozhka can’t find steady work. They’re drowning in loans and rent. You’re young and employed—you can support yourselves. Irochka is the one who truly needs this.”
“But this is my inheritance,” Lena whispered.
“And? It’s family! Irochka’s in hardship while you’re living comfortably—that’s unfair.”
Andrey stayed silent, his eyes tracing the floor’s cracks.
“We haven’t even decided yet,” Lena tried to protest.
“What’s there to debate? It’s decided. Tomorrow we’ll inform Irochka she can move in.”
“Galina Petrovna, please let Andrey and me consult privately.”
“There’s nothing to mull over!” the mother-in-law snapped. “Andrey, why no words? Tell your wife the proper choice.”
Andrey looked at Lena pleadingly.
“Len, perhaps mom is correct. Irochka is truly struggling…”
“And what about us?” Lena could no longer hold back. “We have a mortgage!”
“That’s nothing,” Galina Petrovna dismissed. “Both of you earn well and can manage. Irochka’s children are suffering.”
Frustration surged within Lena. Decisions had been made without her consent or consultation.
“I need to discuss this privately with my husband,” she asserted calmly.
“Take your time,” the mother-in-law agreed, “but don’t delay. Irochka needs to notify her landlord.”
After they left, silence fell between Lena and Andrey. He avoided eye contact, distracted by his phone.
“So?” Lena questioned. “Can we talk?”
“What is there to talk about?” Andrey shrugged. “Mom’s right. Irochka requires help.”
“Don’t you want to hear my perspective?”
“Len, don’t be selfish. Consider the kids, think of the family.”
“What family?” Lena shot back. “Your sister who has been living off you for five years, always borrowing money and never repaying?”
“It’s not her fault her husband doesn’t pull his weight.”
“And it’s not my fault my aunt left me this apartment! It’s rightfully mine!”
“Ours,” Andrey corrected gently. “We are family.”
“Then why am I excluded from decisions about it?”
An intense argument unfolded that evening. Andrey left to visit his parents, returning late after Lena had fallen asleep. The next morning, he attempted reconciliation, but the issue boiled down to Lena needing to put family first and lessen her demands.
Days crept by. Lena hoped Andrey would reconsider and appreciate her standpoint. Instead, his distance grew. At work, she found it difficult to focus, haunted by the family conflict.
One Thursday night, Andrey arrived home late.
“Where have you been?” Lena asked.
“At my sister’s, helping with her move.”
Lena was confused.
“What move?”
“To your apartment, actually. Mom got the keys yesterday, and I gave them to her.”
The earth seemed to crumble beneath Lena. She sank onto the sofa to steady herself.
“You gave my apartment keys away? Without asking me?”
“Len, don’t be childish. We talked about this.”
“We had no discussion! You made the decision alone!”
“Irochka’s already moved out of her old place. She has kids—where else could they possibly go?”
“That isn’t my concern! It’s my apartment!”
“Our apartment.”
“No! Mine! My aunt left it to me, so I have the right to choose what happens to it!”
The next day after work, Lena visited the inherited apartment downtown. Seeing lights on, she knew Irochka really lived there. She went upstairs and rang the doorbell.
Irochka, a slender blonde with a perennially unhappy expression, answered.
“Lena? What brings you here?”
“This is my apartment,” Lena said quietly. “I want to see how things are.”
“Of course, come in. We’re trying to settle in. You’ve saved us so much!”
The interior was crowded with boxes, toys, and children’s belongings. Colorful drawings adorned the walls. Her nephew Seryozhka, seven years old, rushed out shouting, “Aunt Lena!”
“We’re thrilled,” Irochka said while bustling about. “The kids are overjoyed. Seryozha’s new school nearby is excellent.”
Lena listened, realizing there was no turning back. The children had begun a new chapter with a new home and school. Forcibly removing them would label her the villain in the family.
“Where’s Seryozha’s father?” she asked.
“At work,” Irochka replied vaguely. “Now he can search for a proper job, no rent expenses to burden us.”
Lena understood Irochka’s husband was unemployed again, leaving her to support the family on her modest sales assistant salary.
She returned home nearly hysterical. Andrey sat in front of the television eating dumplings.
“I visited your sister’s today,” Lena said flatly.
“And? Did you settle in?”
“Andrey, I want a divorce.”
He choked on a dumpling, coughing hard.
“What did you say?”
“I’m filing for divorce.”
“Over the apartment? Len, you’re not thinking straight!”
“Not about the apartment. Because no one in this family respects my wishes. Not even you.”
“Len, wait, let’s discuss this…”
“What’s to discuss? You made all the decisions already. Without me.”
“I thought you would understand.”
“I do. I understand that your mother’s opinion weighs more than yours. And that you’re willing to give away my property without consulting me.”
“Irochka isn’t a stranger!”
“She is to me! I hardly know her. Maybe five times we met during our entire marriage.”
The argument lasted through the night. Andrey tried persuasion, then threats, then pleadings. Lena stood firm.
When his parents arrived the next weekend and learned of Lena’s decision, Galina Petrovna erupted in anger.
“Are you mad?! Ready to break up a family over some apartment?”
“It’s not about the apartment,” Lena replied wearily. “It’s about respect. About how you treat me like I’m insignificant.”
“We considered you family!”
“Then why was I never involved in decisions?”
“What is there to decide? You wouldn’t understand what’s best anyway!”
“This apartment is mine, and I refuse to hand it over to those parasites! Leave!” Lena snapped.
Galina gasped, appalled.
“You called the children parasites? And you yourself live off our son!”
“Mom, stop!” Andrey interjected, but it was too late.
“I’m leaving your son,” Lena said icily. “And I will reclaim my apartment via legal means. No one has the right to dispose of it without my permission.”
“Do you realize you’re throwing the children out on the street?” her father-in-law pleaded.
“Did you ever consider I was being stripped of my right to control my own inheritance?”
The divorce was turbulent. Andrey attempted to sway Lena through friends and acquaintances, urging her to reconsider. Yet, she remained resolute.
Eventually, the court ruled in her favor. It was revealed that Irochka had no legal claim to occupy the inherited apartment—no formal agreement was signed, no authorization given. The judge promptly ordered Irochka’s family to vacate.
Irochka wept, begging for an extension, which Lena granted for two weeks.
“You’re cruel,” Andrey accused when collecting his belongings.
“I returned what is rightfully mine,” Lena answered firmly.
“They are family!”
“Was I not family when decisions were made without me?”
He remained speechless.
Lena sold the inherited apartment and used the funds to immediately pay off the mortgage. The two-room flat in the residential district was now entirely hers. She renovated the space to her liking and even adopted a cat.
At times, Lena felt sorrow for what her marriage had become. Seven years together is not insignificant. Yet, recalling when her property was taken from her without consent confirmed to her the rightness of her actions.
Six months later, Lena discovered Andrey had remarried—his colleague. A friend casually mentioned how quickly he moved on.
“Good,” Lena replied quietly. “That shows he never truly loved me.”
Irochka and her children moved in with Andrey’s parents. The cramped two-room apartment struggled to accommodate five people. Galina Petrovna now complained bitterly to everyone about the “cruel ex-daughter-in-law” who had evicted the children.
Lena ceased communicating with them all. She realized an essential truth: no one—not even those closest—should dictate your life choices.
Ultimately, the freedom to control your own home, make independent decisions, and assert boundaries outweighs the pursuit of family approval. Lena stands resolute, having protected what is hers without regrets.
This story highlights the challenges of balancing family obligations with personal rights. It underscores the importance of standing firm in protecting one’s property and autonomy even amidst intense pressure.