“I said no,” Katya repeated, trying desperately to hold herself together. “This is my apartment. And I’m not going to—”
“Yours?” her mother-in-law interrupted. “What about the family? Sasha, are you hearing what your wife is saying?”
Katya slowly opened the door to her apartment, her mind heavy with exhaustion. It was almost nine in the evening. She had stayed late at work, unable to finish an important project that had consumed her entire day. As always, the kitchen was filled with noise—her mother-in-law’s loud voice echoing through half the apartment.
“Late again!” Lyudmila exclaimed as Katya entered. “Sasha is hungry, he’s waiting!”
Katya sighed deeply, removing her coat, unable to make sense of what was happening anymore. A month and a half ago, when Sasha had asked if his parents could stay while their apartment was being renovated, it had seemed like a simple matter—two or three weeks at most. Now, time had flown by, and they still hadn’t left. It seemed that in another month or two, this situation would become an unending nightmare.
“Good evening, everyone,” Katya said, stepping into the kitchen.
Sasha and Nikolai were seated at the table, their eyes glued to the television. Lyudmila was clanging pots at the stove, as if dinner had never existed.
“I told you to be here no later than seven,” Lyudmila continued, looking at Katya. “We have a routine; we’re used to having dinner on time.”
Katya shrugged, walking over to the refrigerator without changing.
“I have work,” she said calmly. “An important project. I had to finish it.”
“Work, work…” Lyudmila mocked with a snort. “And what about your husband? Sasha, say something to her!”
Sasha squirmed in his chair, shrugging his shoulders, his voice full of awkwardness, as if he didn’t know what he wanted. His response came after a moment’s hesitation:
“Katyush, maybe you should really come home earlier?”
Katya pressed her lips together. This had never happened before. Sasha had never reproached her for being late. But now… with his parents around, he had become someone else. Or maybe it was just her perception?
“Yes, yes,” Nikolai, supporting his son, said, not looking away from the television. “A woman should think about the family. In our day…”
For a moment, Katya stopped, feeling a tightness in her chest. Things had been different before. And now… she couldn’t understand what was happening.
“I’ll prepare dinner now,” she said, pulling out bags of groceries.
“Don’t trouble yourself,” Lyudmila snorted without looking away from the pots. “I’ve already done everything. And I rearranged your dishes—they were all wrong.”
Katya froze, not believing her ears.
“What do you mean, rearranged? This is my kitchen, Lyudmila…” Her voice trembled slightly, hurt by the words.
“Exactly, your kitchen,” her mother-in-law cut in. “But things need to be organized smartly. I’m an experienced housekeeper!”
Katya felt her body heat up, her frustration growing. She glanced at the table—Sasha, who had once been so understanding, now sat avoiding her gaze. And the person sitting next to him clearly had no sense of boundaries.
“And besides,” Lyudmila continued, now commenting on the wallpaper on the walls, “this place clearly needs a renovation. It all looks rather outdated.”
“Lyudmila…” Katya tried to keep her voice as calm as possible, though it was difficult. “We agreed you’d stay here while your place was being renovated. But the renovation hasn’t even started. Maybe it’s time to think…?”
“Oh, the renovation turned out to be a mess,” Lyudmila sighed, spreading her hands. “The craftsmen let us down, the materials were all wrong. We’ll have to stay with you a bit longer.”
“How long?” Katya asked in a controlled tone.
“Well, two to three months, no more,” Lyudmila replied casually, as if it were a trivial matter. “What’s the big deal? We’re not in your way!”
Katya felt her hands begin to tremble. Two to three months? Would it go on for another two or three months? It was like an unending nightmare.
“Sasha,” Lyudmila suddenly cooed sweetly, smiling in her own unique way. “Maybe we shouldn’t rush with the renovation at all? Let’s sell our apartment and live all together here. There’s plenty of space!”
Katya felt her breath catch. This was her apartment. Her property. And now her mother-in-law was suggesting… what?
“Great idea, Mom!” Sasha perked up. “Right, Katya? You never finish anything; this would help us!”
Nikolai nodded, supporting his son.
“Exactly! The young need the support of the elders. We’ll help out when the grandchildren come.”
Katya sank into a chair, overwhelmed by unbearable thoughts. When had her life turned into this absurdity? When had she stopped being in control of her own destiny?
“No,” Katya said firmly as she stood up.
“What?” Lyudmila turned sharply, unable to believe her ears.
“I said no,” Katya repeated, desperately trying to keep her composure. “This is my apartment. And I’m not going to…”
“Yours?” her mother-in-law interrupted. “What about the family? Sasha, do you hear what your wife is saying?”
Sasha frowned, his face tightening.
“Katya, what are you starting? Your mother is talking sense. Living together is easier…”
“Easier?” Katya stood up, her voice hardening. “Easier as in living under constant control? Tolerating strangers commanding in my own home?”
“What do you mean, strangers?” Lyudmila retorted indignantly, her voice nearly hostile. “We’re your husband’s parents!”
“And so what?” Katya raised her voice, unable to hold back any longer. “Does that give you the right to take over my property?”
Sasha jumped up, his face reddening, eyes wide:
“Stop yelling at your mother!” he nearly shrieked, like a child who had been scolded. “What’s gotten into you? You used to be so understanding…”
Katya clenched her fists so tightly that her nails dug into her skin, trying not to let her anger explode:
“Understanding? Yes, I was. Until you started turning my home into a barracks!”
“How dare you say that!” Lyudmila exploded, flinging her hands as if someone had slapped her. “Sasha, do you hear what she’s saying?”
Sasha glanced helplessly between his mother and wife, as if for the first time seeing two people who couldn’t simply coexist in peace.
“Katya, let’s calmly discuss this…”
“No, Sasha,” Katya said, straightening up, her voice steady despite the storm brewing inside her. “Enough. I’ve been silent for a month and a half. I’ve tolerated my kitchen being overhauled, my belongings rearranged, people commanding in my own home, in my life!”
“We only wanted to help,” Nikolai interjected, his voice sounding almost apologetic. “To set things in order…”
“Order?” Katya turned to him as if he’d said something entirely inappropriate. “Who asked for your help? This is my home, my rules!”
“How rude,” Lyudmila pursed her lips, her face pale with anger. “Sasha, will you allow her to speak to us like that?”
Katya felt her strength waning, a void filling her inside. How much longer could she endure this? How long would this farce continue?
“Out,” Katya said quietly, but firmly enough for everyone to hear.
“What?” Lyudmila stood frozen with her spoon raised, unable to believe her ears.
“I said out of my apartment,” Katya repeated louder, her voice as unyielding as concrete. “Right now. Pack your things and leave.”
A deafening silence fell. Lyudmila turned pale, Nikolai blinked in confusion, and Sasha sat frozen, unable to comprehend what was happening.
“You can’t…” Lyudmila started, not believing it.
“I can,” Katya cut her off, meeting her gaze. “This is my apartment. My property. And I will no longer allow anyone to dictate here.”
Katya marched into the living room where her in-laws slept and began packing their things. Every minute dragged on like an eternity, but she couldn’t stop.
“Katya, stop!” Sasha grabbed her hand like a child not understanding what was happening. “You can’t do this to my parents!”
“I can,” Katya freed her hand, gritting her teeth to keep herself steady. “And if you disagree, you can leave with them.”
“What?” Sasha recoiled. “You’re kicking me out?”
“No,” Katya shook her head. “I’m giving you a choice. Either you stay with me and respect my rules, or you go live with your parents.”
“Ungrateful!” Lyudmila shrieked, biting her lips in hurt. “We’ve given you our hearts, and you…”
“Everything’s packed,” Katya interrupted. “You have five minutes to leave the apartment.”
“Or what?” Lyudmila squinted, her lips curling into a mocking smile.
“Or I’ll call the police,” Katya replied calmly, her eyes unwavering. “Believe me, I have enough resolve to file a complaint about unlawful occupancy.”
“Sasha!” Lyudmila shrieked, grabbing his hand. “Do something!”
But Sasha stood still, helplessly looking between his wife and his parents. Panic flickered in his eyes, unable to make a choice.
“Time’s up,” Katya said, glancing at the clock, her voice no longer weary.
Lyudmila opened her mouth to protest, but Nikolai gently took her hand, his voice calm but firm:
“Let’s go, Lyuda. We’re not welcome here.”
“How can we not be welcome?” Lyudmila protested, her face contorting. “One does not treat family like this! Sasha, say something!”
Sasha shifted his feet, his eyes avoiding his wife’s. He seemed unsure, caught between two worlds. He could do nothing else.
“Katya, maybe we shouldn’t be so hasty? Let’s talk this over…” His voice quivered.
“There’s nothing to discuss,” Katya replied, her tone resolute. “I’ve made my decision.”
Lyudmila and Nikolai, like two old mirrors, silently gathered their things and headed for the door. As Lyudmila paused, still hoping for a miracle, she turned back, her eyes filled with tears.
“Sasha, you won’t leave us, will you?”
Sasha stood frozen, helplessly spreading his hands.
“Mom, I… I’ll try to talk to Katya. Maybe she’ll calm down…”
After the door closed behind them, the air in the apartment grew heavy, like the rain ready to pour. Sasha turned to his wife, his eyes filled with countless unspoken questions. Katya nearly broke down, but held back.
“Listen, I never meant for things to go this far. Your parents really got into a tough situation… that renovation…”
“What renovation, Sasha?” Katya looked at him tiredly. “They never even started. Your parents just decided to take over my home like it was theirs, and you let it happen!”
“Don’t say that!” Sasha burst out, as if struck by a blow. “They didn’t mean any harm! They just thought living together would be better.”
“Better for whom?” Katya sank onto the couch, feeling drained. “For you? For yourself? Did anyone ever think about me?”
Sasha sat beside her, reaching for her hand in a desperate attempt to comfort her, but Katya was too far gone.
“Katyush, let’s fix this. I’ll talk to my parents…”
“No, Sasha,” her voice was almost a whisper, yet so resolute that it seemed to freeze him. “It’s too late to fix anything. I’m filing for divorce.”
“What?!” Sasha sprang up, his eyes wide as if the ground beneath him were crumbling. “Over something so trivial?”
“Trivial?” Katya smiled bitterly, her tone cold. “You call it trivial that you let your parents take over my home? That you never stood up for me? You knew they planned to settle here for good, and you stayed silent. This isn’t a mistake, Sasha. It’s betrayal.”
The next morning, Katya went to court. Her hands didn’t tremble because her decision was as firm as stone. When she returned home, there was no fear or regret—only emptiness and lightness, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her.
Sasha wavered between his parents and her. He’d come, standing at the door with flowers, trying to pretend everything could still be fixed.
“I’ve realized everything, Katya. Let’s try again?”
But Katya stood firm, unyielding as the winter wind.
“No, Sasha. You chose your path, and I chose mine.”
After the divorce, life exhaled. Katya went swimming, changed her image, and even started enjoying drinks with friends—friends she could finally be with without her mother-in-law’s ever-watchful eye. It was everything she had dreamed of but never allowed herself to do.
One evening, while sitting in her favorite chair with a book, Katya realized she couldn’t remember the last time she felt truly alive.
“Freedom,” she whispered, looking around her cozy home. “That’s what really matters.”
The phone rang, pulling her out of her reverie. Lyudmila, of course, was trying to call.
Katya glanced at the screen but didn’t answer. She deleted the number. Her hand didn’t tremble. This was no longer her story, no longer her pain.
A new life lay ahead. A life where no one could invade her personal space, where she alone would decide who to be with and whom to trust. And that was what mattered most.