Liliya sat in her office, lost in thought. Important real estate documents lay spread across the desk in front of her. She had inherited a considerable amount of property from her parents—three apartments in an upscale part of the city and a small shopping center on the outskirts. Her fingers traced the lines of a lease agreement, her eyes stopping at the name of the tenant—Alla Sergeyevna Voronova.
Her husband’s mother had no idea she was paying rent to her own daughter-in-law. Liliya had arranged everything through a real estate agency to keep the truth hidden. Three years ago, when her relationship with Igor had just begun, she had decided not to disclose her financial standing.
It hadn’t mattered to her then. She had looked at him lovingly and assured him that his income meant nothing to her. He had been embarrassed, hesitant, but she had laughed and embraced him, telling him she loved him and that everything else was secondary.
She never spoke about her wealth, pretending to be just a manager at the shopping center rather than the owner. The apartment they lived in was supposedly part of her inheritance, nothing more.
Two years into their marriage, Liliya sometimes regretted her decision to keep quiet. The constant remarks and criticisms from her mother-in-law were wearing her down. From the very beginning, Alla Sergeyevna had made it clear that she didn’t approve of her.
She would question Igor about his choice, complaining that Liliya didn’t cook well, wasn’t skilled at housekeeping, and spent too much time at work. Liliya bore it all in silence, swallowing the hurt for the sake of her husband. Even when the insults became sharper and more direct, she endured them.
One evening, while making dinner, she overheard her mother-in-law’s voice on the phone, loud and complaining. She was telling a friend how Liliya had bought another expensive dress, questioning where she got the money from. The accusation stung. She knew exactly where her funds came from, but hearing her mother-in-law insist that Igor was foolishly spending all his savings on her made her grip the pan tightly.
Her mother-in-law spoke as if Liliya were a burden, a woman who would be living under a bridge if not for her son’s generosity. It was absurd. She had earned two degrees, graduated with top honors, and built her own business. But Igor had once asked her not to mention her education—his mother apparently didn’t trust women who were “too educated.”
The criticisms only intensified. Every visit from her mother-in-law turned into an ordeal. Every meal Liliya prepared was met with a grimace or a backhanded comment about how things were done better in her time. It didn’t matter that Liliya had taken cooking courses before marriage, wanting to impress her husband. Nothing was ever good enough.
As their wedding anniversary approached, Liliya decided to do something special. She quietly booked a two-week stay at a luxurious hotel by the sea. She imagined Igor’s surprise and happiness, hoping that perhaps even his mother would start to see her differently.
She tucked the envelope with the tickets into her desk drawer, feeling a spark of excitement. But the moment Igor came home that evening, she sensed something was wrong. He was quiet, distracted, pushing his food around his plate.
Finally, he spoke. His mother had called, telling him that her rent had been raised. She was struggling, he explained, looking guilty. Maybe they could help her out.
Liliya’s heart clenched. She hadn’t raised the rent at all.
Before she could respond, a loud knock on the door interrupted them. Alla Sergeyevna stood there, unapologetically stepping inside, her shoes still on. She announced that the water had been shut off in her building and that she would be staying with them for a few days.
Liliya’s stomach sank. Tomorrow was their anniversary. The next day, they were supposed to leave for their vacation.
She tried to explain, but her mother-in-law cut her off, acting as if the very suggestion that she might not stay was an insult. She turned to Igor for support, her voice rising, tears welling in her eyes, accusing Liliya of trying to turn her son against her.
Igor gave in immediately.
Of course, stay, he said.
Just like that, their plans, the surprise, their first real vacation together—everything crumbled.
Liliya pulled Igor aside into the bedroom, trying to reason with him. She told him about the trip, about how much it meant to her. But he dismissed it, saying that nothing was more important than family. His mother just wanted to help, to guide her.
Guide me? Liliya could barely believe what she was hearing. His mother had done nothing but humiliate her.
She realized, with a painful clarity, that Igor would never stand up for her. Not against his mother. Not ever.
If you don’t see the problem here, she said, then maybe you should leave with her.
He stared at her in shock.
You can’t kick us out, he protested. I’m your husband.
She walked to the cabinet, pulled out the documents, and placed them in his hands.
Look carefully, she said. This apartment belongs to me. You have no right to be here without my permission.
His face drained of color as he scanned the papers.
Enough, she told him. I have put up with enough.
She led them both to the door.
That night, as she lay in bed, she knew what she had to do. The next morning, she contacted the real estate agency and issued an official eviction notice to her mother-in-law.
It wasn’t long before Alla Sergeyevna stormed back into the apartment, Igor trailing behind her.
How dare you? she shouted, waving the paper in front of Liliya’s face.
Liliya rose from the couch, calm and composed.
How dare I? she repeated. Very simply, Alla Sergeyevna. I am your landlord.
Her mother-in-law froze. The paper trembled in her grip.
That’s impossible. My landlord is a company.
A company I own, Liliya replied. Here, take a look at the documents. I inherited this property years ago. The apartment you live in, this one here—it all belongs to me.
Igor stepped forward, his voice barely a whisper.
All this time…
Yes, she nodded. All this time. I even lowered your rent. Twice. Out of respect for you, Igor. But I never received respect in return.
Alla Sergeyevna collapsed into a chair, her voice suddenly soft and pleading. She tried to explain, tried to say she was just worried about her son. She called Liliya her dear daughter-in-law, claimed she had always cared for her.
Liliya shook her head.
No, Alla Sergeyevna. It’s too late for that. For two years, I endured your insults, your manipulation, your contempt. I kept quiet, smiled through your criticisms, let you spread lies about me. And Igor never once defended me.
Igor started to speak, but she cut him off.
You wanted to avoid conflict. And I wanted to avoid living a lie.
She pulled out another envelope and handed it to him.
These were tickets for our anniversary. My gift to you. But your mother made sure we never got to use them. And you let her.
His mother jumped up, pleading now. She promised to change, to apologize, to make things right.
No, Liliya said again. You have one month to move out. That is more than fair.
Igor, make her stop, his mother cried.
But he said nothing, staring at the floor.
Liliya handed him another envelope.
Divorce papers. Sign them, and you and your mother can leave.
He looked at her, desperation in his eyes.
Please, let’s start over.
No, Igor. It’s too late. My love for you died the moment you chose her over me.
A month later, Liliya sat in her office, signing the final divorce papers. Her mother-in-law had moved to a smaller, more expensive apartment. Igor had tried to win her back, but she never responded.
She smiled to herself.
Now I am free. No one will ever humiliate me again.
Looking back, she realized she had lost a husband, but she had found something far more valuable—herself.