As Natalya dusted the coffee table, an all-too-familiar sound shattered the quiet. She paused, her gaze falling on the dark surface she had just polished, now cluttered once again with sunflower seed shells. Her eyes shifted toward the sofa, where her sister-in-law, Inga, lounged carelessly.
“Inga, could you please stop making such a mess?” Natalya’s voice quivered slightly, the irritation barely held in check. “I just cleaned this up.”
Inga lazily turned her head, continuing to crack seeds with deliberate slowness.
“Oh, Natasha, can’t you see I’m trying to relax?” she responded, casually spitting a shell onto the carpet. “After work, I deserve some downtime.”
Clutching the rag tightly, Natalya recalled that it had already been three months since Inga and her husband began staying in their modest two-room apartment. They had promised only a brief visit, a week or two until arranging a place of their own, yet here they remained.
“Inga, your work hours are only a few every other day,” Natalya said in an attempt to keep her voice calm. “Couldn’t you at least help with the cleaning?”
“What am I, your maid?” Inga retorted with a dismissive snort. “I have my own things to attend to.”
Curious, Natalya knew Inga’s schedule well—it mostly comprised a couple hours of occasional side jobs, followed by television shows, endless complaints, and a steady stream of sunflower seeds.
“Then please don’t scatter shells everywhere,” Natalya said, kneeling down to pick the mess off the carpet. “Is it really that difficult to eat over a plate?”
Suddenly, Inga sat upright, frustration bubbling over. “You’re really getting on my nerves! Andrey, come here!”
Frozen on her knees, Natalya braced herself, knowing what was coming. Heavy steps from the bedroom announced her brother-in-law’s arrival, tousled from an afternoon nap.
“What’s happening here?” Andrey asked, yawning and rubbing his eyes.
“Your wife is driving me mad!” Inga threw herself off the sofa, scattering more shells. “I’m a guest in my brother’s place, and she’s ordering me around!”
Andrey glanced at Natalya, who was still crouched on the floor gathering shells.
“Why are you picking on her, Natasha?” he replied wearily. “Inga’s a guest in our home.”
Standing up slowly, Natalya countered, “A guest? They’ve been living here for three months!”
“So? Inga is my sister,” Andrey said as he reached them, wrapping his arm around Inga’s shoulders. “They’re facing housing problems; we have to support family.”
Looking at her husband, Natalya barely recognized the man he had become—so indifferent to her feelings.
“Helping is one thing,” she said, pressing her lips, “but living off me is quite another.”
“Living off you?” Andrey frowned. “This apartment belongs to both of us.”
“Yes, but I am the one scrubbing floors, cooking meals, and doing laundry,” Natalya’s voice broke. “Your precious sister just creates chaos and devours everything.”
“How dare you!” Inga tore away from her brother’s embrace, indignantly glaring. “Andrey, can you believe how she’s speaking to me?”
“Apologize immediately, Natasha,” Andrey demanded. “Inga is my sister.”
“I won’t,” Natalya said, retreating toward the window. “I’ve had enough of putting up with this mess.”
“Then endure it silently,” Andrey turned his back. “And don’t insult my sister again.”
He escorted Inga into the kitchen, arm slung possessively around her shoulders. Inga cast a spiteful look over her shoulder, sticking out her tongue at Natalya before the door shut. Left alone in the living room, Natalya clutched a handful of seed shells, overwhelmed by solitude.
“For three days, silence enveloped the apartment as Natalya moved like a ghost, distant and withdrawn.”
Meanwhile, Andrey openly shared meals and laughter with Inga in the kitchen, their voices ringing out as if to exclude Natalya.
By Friday evening, Natalya packed a small suitcase. She had reached her limit. It was time to visit her mother’s house, a place where she hoped someone would truly listen and understand.
“Andrey, I’ll be at my mother’s for a week,” she said, standing cautiously in the kitchen doorway.
Her husband glanced up from his borscht. Inga sat nearby, chewing bread, feigning disinterest.
“Why suddenly?” Andrey questioned, lowering his spoon. “It’s the weekend.”
“I just miss her,” Natalya shrugged. “Haven’t seen her in a long time.”
Andrey nodded and resumed eating. Inga continued chewing silently, eyes averted. Natalya left without a single farewell.
At her parents’ home, the welcoming scent of freshly baked pies and clean laundry hung in the air. Her mother embraced her, immediately noticing the despondency in her eyes.
“Natasha, what’s troubling you?” her mother asked gently. “You look so downcast.”
Over tea, Natalya recounted every detail—the shells, the disorder, her husband’s apathy. Her mother listened quietly, occasionally shaking her head in concern.
“You’re far too accommodating,” her mother sighed. “You mustn’t allow people, even family, to trample over you.”
“But Andrey insists Inga is family,” Natalya murmured, stirring her tea. “That we must help.”
“Helping doesn’t mean enabling,” her mother replied firmly. “Three months! They’ve lost all decency.”
- During the peaceful week, Natalya found solace in gardening, baking, and reading.
- The quiet allowed her to regain strength.
- She faced no accusations or demands.
Come Sunday morning, Natalya prepared to head back. She was reluctant but knew she could not evade her responsibilities indefinitely.
Upon returning, the heavy lock turned with resistance. Stepping into the hallway, an unpleasant stench of stale food and dampness greeted her. The disorder was immediately evident.
The living room was strewn with dirty plates, scattered candy wrappers, empty chip bags, and a coffee table speckled with food crumbs and sticky stains.
In the kitchen, the sink overflowed with grimy dishes, a pot of porridge rested forgotten on the stove, buzzing flies circling. The refrigerator was nearly barren, save for a jar of mustard and a hardened wedge of cheese.
“Oh, the hostess has returned!” Inga’s sharp voice snapped behind her.
Turning around, Natalya saw Inga standing in the doorway, disheveled and clad in a robe.
“You have no shame!” her sister-in-law ranted, flailing arms. “You left without even leaving money for groceries!”
Closing the fridge quietly, Natalya faced her sternly.
“Our last money went toward food—takeout and ready meals,” Inga declared, throwing her hands up. “Do you realize how expensive that is?”
A sudden surge of frustration overtook Natalya. Her patience had finally run dry.
“You’ve been living here for three months,” she yelled, causing Inga to retreat. “Not a single contribution, and now you complain?”
“How dare you raise your voice at me?” Inga’s face flushed purple. “I’m a guest in this house!”
“Guest?” Natalya advanced. “Guests don’t overstay for months!”
“We’re family!” Inga shrieked. “We have nowhere else to turn!”
“Housing problems?” Natalya scoffed bitterly. “Have you tried earning money or finding a place yourself?”
Amidst the confrontation, Pavel, Inga’s husband, appeared in the living room, rumpled and unshaven.
“What’s all this noise?” he grumbled. “Can’t you speak civilly?”
“Civil?” Natalya snapped. “After you devoured all my food and destroyed my home?”
“We didn’t mean to,” Pavel shrugged. “We’ll clean up.”
“When?” was Natalya’s outraged reply. “You’ve not washed a single dish in three months!”
At that moment, Andrey entered, face creased with irritation.
“Natasha, why the shouting?” he asked sharply. “The neighbors might complain.”
“Exactly!” Inga chimed in. “Your wife’s losing it—shouting like a madwoman!”
Natalya stared at her husband, disbelief and hurt in her eyes. Would he stand with his sister once more?
“Andrey, do you see the condition of our apartment?” she gestured helplessly. “It’s a disaster!”
“What of it?” Andrey waved a hand dismissively. “We’ll clean. It’s not the end of the world.”
“Not the end of the world?” Natalya gasped. “The fridge was empty when I returned! I was gone a week! Yet, no one thought to buy groceries?”
“Don’t stress,” Andrey said, moving towards the fridge. “We’ll shop tomorrow.”
“With whose money?” Natalya almost wept with frustration. “I’m supposed to support your relatives again?”
“Oh, stop pretending to be poor,” Inga sneered. “You always have cash; you won’t go broke.”
Pavel nodded in agreement. “Yeah, why be so stingy? Can’t you help your family?”
“Family?” Natalya exploded. “Who are you to me? Parasites!”
“Natasha!” Andrey snapped. “How dare you speak about my family that way?”
“What else should I call them?” she shot back. “They eat my food, live in my home, and whine constantly!”
“This is our apartment,” Andrey reminded her, “and my family has the right to be here.”
“You’re a selfish ingrate!” Inga screamed. “You should’ve stayed with your own mother!”
“She’s right,” Andrey sided with his sister. “At least then you wouldn’t be here throwing tantrums!”
Silence fell heavily. The kitchen felt tense, everyone awaiting Natalya’s response. A realization dawned on her—this was the breaking point. She could endure no more.
“Am I obstructing you?” she asked softly. “Because you’re obstructing me. Get out of my apartment.”
Bewildered, the three exchanged looks. Andrey was the first to recover.
“Natalya, you’re overreacting,” he said, attempting to soothe. “Let’s talk calmly…”
“Too late for talking,” she stated firmly, heading to the door. “Pack your things—and leave. All of you.”
“Where are we supposed to go?” Inga whined.
“I don’t care,” Natalya answered decisively. “That’s your problem.”
“Are you serious?” Pavel shook his head in disbelief. “We’re family.”
“You’re not family to me!” Natalya interrupted. “I bought this apartment before marriage. Half an hour to pack.”
A strange calm surged through her body. Her hands no longer trembled, her voice was steady. For the first time in a long while, she sensed clarity devoid of hesitation. Something inside had snapped, a tightly wound spring finally released.
One hour later, Natalya closed the door behind the last departing figure. The apartment was silent, empty at last. She sank onto the couch and exhaled deeply. Finally, she could breathe freely again, unburdened by those who sought to drag her down.
Key Insight: Setting boundaries, even with family, is essential to maintaining peace and self-respect in shared living situations.
In summary, Natalya’s experience underscores the challenges of extended family living arrangements, the importance of mutual respect, and the necessity of asserting oneself to preserve personal space and sanity. Her journey from tolerance to decisive action provides a powerful example of reclaiming control in difficult domestic circumstances.