Exhausted after a long day at work, Irina climbed the stairs to her apartment building. Holding a managerial position in a large corporation demanded her utmost dedication, yet the salary made it worthwhile. The chilly September evening made her eager to reach the cozy warmth of home.
Upon opening her front door, lively voices echoed from the living room. The sound of her husband mingled with that of Valentina Sergeevna, her mother-in-law. Quietly removing her shoes, Irina tiptoed toward the room to avoid interrupting their conversation. Unaware of her arrival, her husband and mother were deeply engaged in a spirited discussion.
“This is definitely the best option,” Valentina Sergeevna proclaimed, pointing at something displayed on a tablet screen. “The house is spacious, the plot is generous, and it’s conveniently close to the city.”
“Indeed, Mom, I agree,” Oleg added. “The location is excellent, and the price is reasonable for that size.”
Standing in the doorway, Irina focused intently, curious about the house they were discussing. Oleg, holding a mid-level managerial role, earned barely enough to cover day-to-day expenses. Valentina Sergeevna lived on a modest pension in a rented one-room apartment.
“Darling!” Oleg exclaimed, spotting his wife. “You arrived just in time! Mom and I have found a house! It’s a great choice, only eight million rubles. With your salary, we’ll pay off the mortgage swiftly.”
Irina froze, blinking in disbelief. Oleg spoke casually about such an enormous sum as if buying bread at the store. Eight million rubles were equivalent to several years of Irina’s earnings.
“Excuse me, what are you talking about?” Irina asked slowly. “Which house? What mortgage?”
“We discussed—the time has come,” Valentina Sergeevna interrupted. “I need to move out of my rented flat. At my age, owning a home is essential.”
“Discussed?” Irina repeated, puzzled. “I do not remember any talks about this.”
“Of course we did,” Oleg insisted. “Last summer, when the landlord raised the rent for Mom.”
Irina recalled the conversation about rental troubles, yet it was about finding a cheaper place to rent, not purchasing a home for eight million.
“Helping one’s mother is a basic duty,” Valentina Sergeevna continued, casting a disapproving glance at her daughter-in-law. “A man isn’t born to have his mother wander from one rental to another.”
Blood rushed to Irina’s face, revealing her rising indignation. Her mother-in-law spoke as though the house purchase was already a settled matter, and Irina was expected to finance it.
“Since when did I agree to pay for your house?” Irina snapped sharply.
Oleg hurried to mediate: “Sweetheart, please don’t be like that. It’s a joint family decision. We spare nothing for the family, right? Mom is alone and needs support.”
“Joint decision?” Irina raised her voice. “Oleg, no one asked me about buying a house! I’m hearing about this for the first time!”
“Mom and I thought it through,” he justified. “Considering your salary, it’s feasible. The bank will approve the loan—I already gathered some documents.”
“You collected documents?” Irina frowned. “Without telling me?”
A folder poked out from Oleg’s bag on the couch. Without asking, Irina pulled it out. Inside were printouts from real estate sites, a preliminary house purchase agreement, and a draft mortgage contract.
Reviewing the documents, a chill ran down Irina’s spine. The loan amount was eight million rubles over fifteen years. Monthly payments would consume nearly half her salary.
“Oleg,” she said quietly, “were you planning to get me to sign these papers?”
“Sign?” he protested. “I planned to discuss everything with you, just researched first to speak knowledgeably.”
“Researched?” Irina scrutinized the papers. “They include my position, salary figures, even company details. How do you have such information?”
Oleg faltered, “Well… I remembered roughly. Asked you casually sometime ago.”
“Casually?” Irina replayed recent conversations. “You did ask several times about my income, saying it was for bank documents.”
“Yes, proof of family income to secure a loan.”
“The loan is for ME,” Irina clarified. “On my salary and responsibility.”
Valentina Sergeevna decided to intervene: “Irina, why act childish? Family means mutual help. Oleg is a devoted husband, I’m a good mother-in-law. Is it so hard to help?”
“Valentina Sergeevna,” Irina remained calm, “this is about eight million rubles! That’s a massive sum!”
“So what? You have a good job and steady income. I’m almost sixty, I want my own house at last.”
“Then buy it with your own money.”
“What money?” the mother-in-law exclaimed. “My pension is minuscule, and Oleg’s salary is small.”
“Then buy a home within your means.”
“A shed at best!” Valentina Sergeevna shot back. “But this house is a dream — two floors, a fireplace, a big yard!”
Irina flipped through the printouts showing the house pictures. The cottage was genuinely luxurious: spacious rooms, modern finishes, well-kept grounds. Such property was affordable only to the well-off.
“Oleg,” Irina addressed her husband, “do you realize that loan payments will last fifteen years? More than half my salary each month?”
“I know, but we’ll manage by cutting other expenses.”
“Which expenses?” she laughed nervously. “We live modestly already. What could we possibly reduce?”
“Well, fewer vacations, less new clothing.”
“What if I get sick and can’t work? Or if the company goes bankrupt? Who pays the loan?”
“Don’t worry. Everything will be fine,” Oleg waved off.
Irina understood he underestimated the gravity of the situation. To Oleg, eight million rubles was merely a figure on paper.
“I won’t sign anything,” she declared firmly.
“Why not?” Oleg asked, surprised. “It’s a family matter. As a director, it’s easier for you to get credit.”
“Precisely because I’m a director, I understand my responsibility. I won’t take such a loan.”
“But Mom dreams of her own home!” Oleg protested.
“Let her dream. Or buy it with her own money.”
Valentina Sergeevna threw up her hands indignantly: “Unbelievable! Selfish! Only thinking of yourself!”
“I’m thinking about family finances,” Irina answered calmly. “Which I mostly support.”
“Ah, that’s it!” the mother-in-law sneered. “Money talks, and suddenly you think you’re important! Is Oleg worse than you?”
“What about Oleg?” Irina asked. “The loan is beyond our means.”
“It’s not beyond, look,” Oleg pulled out a calculator. “Your salary is 120 thousand, monthly payment 60 thousand. Sixty thousand left plus my salary. We can live.”
“You forget about taxes,” Irina sighed. “I take home 100 thousand. Minus payment leaves 40 thousand. Plus your 30 thousand. Seventy thousand for two per month.”
“Fine,” he shrugged. “People live on less.”
- Living on less is survival, not living.
- Every expense counts when money is tight.
Irina sat back, trying to think calmly. Her husband and mother-in-law watched expectantly, waiting for her to give in.
“What if we have children?” Irina asked. “How will we support them?”
“With the same money,” Oleg replied. “Kids don’t eat much.”
“Kids need more than food: clothes, toys, education, healthcare.”
“We’ll manage somehow.”
“Somehow?” she shook her head. “You don’t grasp how serious this is.”
“I do. But Mom’s priority over numbers.”
Valentina Sergeevna smiled, pleased by her son’s words. Irina realized the conversation was deadlocked. They had decided everything without her. Only her signature was needed.
“Show me the contract closely,” Irina requested.
Oleg handed over the folder. She studied each line carefully. The loan was solely in her name, but the house would belong to Valentina Sergeevna.
“Wait,” Irina said. “The loan is mine, but the house belongs to your mother?”
“Yes,” Oleg replied. “She needs the house.”
“So I’ll pay for a house that isn’t mine for fifteen years?”
“Not someone else’s, it’s for the family,” her husband objected.
“Family? Oleg, if the house is registered under your mother, it’s her property. I have no stake in it.”
“You will, we are family.”
“And if we divorce? The house remains hers, but the debt is mine?”
“Why even mention divorce? We love each other.”
“We do, but legally, I am exposed.”
Irina put the papers down. The situation became absurd. Her husband and mother-in-law wanted her to shoulder a massive loan for a home that wouldn’t belong to her.
“If you want this home, take the loan yourselves,” she said.
“They won’t lend to us,” admitted Oleg. “Our incomes are low.”
“Exactly. The house is beyond your means.”
“Not if you help.”
“I won’t assist in that way.”
Valentina Sergeevna stood abruptly and headed for the door:
“Fine. I see you’re a stranger to us. A real wife would never refuse her husband.”
“A real husband wouldn’t drag his wife into such schemes,” Irina retorted.
The mother-in-law slammed the door. Oleg was left alone with Irina. They remained silent, processing the harsh exchange.
Irina took the folder and went to the bedroom. Oleg followed her.
“Darling, don’t be angry. We meant well.”
Irina silently took out her phone and began photographing the documents, page by page. Oleg grew uneasy.
“Why are you taking photos?”
“Just in case.”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“After today, no.”
“We never planned anything wrong!”
“When will you explain? After I sign?”
Oleg was speechless. Irina put her phone away.
“If everything is honest, I have nothing to fear, but I want to protect myself.”
The next morning, Irina visited a bank to meet a credit manager.
“I want to report that no one besides me is authorized to apply for a loan on my behalf,” she told the employee.
“We’ll record your statement. Is there a reason for concern?”
“I suspect an attempt to process a loan without my approval.”
“Understood. If an application comes in, we will verify with you.”
“What about forged signatures?”
“That’s a criminal offense, and the police will be involved.”
Irina thanked her and left, feeling relief. Now, she had control over the situation. To Oleg and his mother, she felt like nothing but a wallet.
At home, she found Oleg and Valentina Sergeevna discussing renovations. The mother-in-law showed photos of furniture.
“We’ll put a leather couch and a big TV here,” she explained.
“Sounds great, Mom,” Oleg agreed.
Irina slammed the folder on the table.
“It’s over. You tried to get me to take on an eight-million debt behind my back.”
“We didn’t do anything!” Oleg protested.
“Then explain this income statement. When did you acquire it?”
Oleg blushed. Valentina Sergeevna jumped up:
“Enough drama! Oleg only wanted to help!”
“Help whom?”
“The family! You’re stingy and shameful! A real wife wouldn’t refuse!”
Irina laughed:
“Live on your own money, teach your son to earn.”
“My son is good! And you’re selfish!”
“I’m honestly selfish, not leeching off others.”
She went to the bedroom and began packing Oleg’s clothes into a suitcase. He looked bewildered.
“What are you doing?”
“Packing.”
“Why?”
“You’re no longer living here.”
“Seriously?”
“Absolutely.”
Irina rolled the suitcase to the hallway and held out her hand:
“The keys.”
“This is our home!”
“It’s my apartment. Bought before the wedding. Give me the keys.”
Oleg reluctantly handed over the keys. Irina turned to her mother-in-law:
“And the duplicate too.”
“What duplicate?”
“The spare you borrowed to water the plants while on vacation.”
Valentina Sergeevna threw the keys on a small table.
“Both of you leave.”
“I won’t leave!” Oleg adamantly said.
“Then I’ll call the police.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
Irina dialed:
“Hello, there are people refusing to leave my apartment.”
Oleg tried to grab the phone, but Irina pulled away and gave the address.
“We’re married!” Oleg pleaded.
“We were while you treated me like an ATM.”
The police arrived quickly, two female officers.
“Did you call?” the senior asked.
“Yes, these people won’t leave my home.”
“Documents?”
Irina presented her title deed.
“Are they related to you?”
“Husband and mother-in-law, but they no longer live here.”
“Do they have registration here?”
“No.”
Officer asked Oleg:
“Proof you’re allowed to live here?”
“None, but I’m the husband!”
“Marriage doesn’t grant right to live on someone else’s property. Please leave within five minutes.”
“Where will we go?” protested Valentina Sergeevna.
“Not our problem.”
A protocol for public disturbance was filed. Oleg and his mother gathered their things and left.
“We’ll meet again!” Valentina Sergeevna shouted.
“Unlikely,” Irina replied, locking the door.
For a month, Oleg called relentlessly, begging her to return and promising to forget about his mother’s house. Irina remained resolute; trust was broken beyond repair.
Later, he played the pity card: complaining about the rented apartment, money troubles, his mother’s illness. Irina listened indifferently.
After a month, she filed for divorce. Oleg resisted, skipped court appearances, delaying proceedings, but the court decided without him. There were no shared assets or children.
The divorce finalized quickly. Irina received her certificate and sighed with relief.
On the day he came for his last belongings, Oleg asked:
“Do you realize you were wrong?”
“My mistake was not seeing you clearly before.”
“I loved you.”
“You loved the salary.”
“That’s unfair.”
“Fair is everyone living within their means.”
Oleg took his bag and headed toward the door.
“If you change your mind?”
“I won’t.”
Irina closed the door, feeling relief. The apartment felt quiet and peaceful.
She entered the living room, sat in her favorite chair, and looked around. No one here would dictate her future at her expense.
The folder with house documents lay on the table. Irina threw the papers into the trash. The eight-million debt and fifteen years of repayments were now behind her.
Freedom smelled of tea and silence. Ahead lay a new life where decisions belonged solely to her.