“Come on, speed things up, I want to move in. I’ll be the one to kick your daughter out,” read the message from some arrogant Romeo to her mother. Katya nearly gasped aloud when she saw it. How had it come to this?
It hadn’t started like this at all.
“So, what do you say we sell all this junk?” Tamara said as soon as she stepped inside, scanning the apartment. Katya flinched at the word “junk.” They were walking through the three-bedroom flat Tamara had inherited from her grandmother, trying to decide what to do with it.
High ceilings, worn but sturdy wardrobes, faded wallpaper—every corner carried memories of the woman Katya had adored. She had spent much of her childhood here with her grandmother, while her mother was out working or dating. Tamara had never remarried after Katya’s father left them long ago. The pain of that abandonment still lingered in Katya, though she kept it buried.
Now, she was just trying to be a supportive daughter to an aging woman who had always been difficult. But Tamara wasn’t paying attention to Katya’s face or feelings. She was already calculating the apartment’s worth, seeing not a home, but a potential sale.
“Are you serious?” Katya stopped in the living room, brushing her hand along the heavy wooden dresser. “Can’t we just leave it as it is?”
“Don’t be silly. Sure, it’s sentimental, but this is prime real estate in the center of the city,” Tamara waved a dismissive hand like shooing away a fly.
She peered out the window, evaluating the view with a sharp eye.
“We could sell it and invest in something new. I’m not planning on spending the rest of my life in this musty old place.”
“It’s your apartment, you can do what you want. But I worry you’ll regret it.”
“Oh, stop whining. I’m just asking your opinion because I care about what you think.”
But something felt off. Tamara wasn’t usually so decisive. Katya had a strange feeling, like there was more to this than her mother was letting on.
“Mom, what are you really up to?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Tamara snapped, turning to face her. “Do you even know how fast real estate prices are rising?”
“Have you thought about me? About how much I loved Grandma?” Katya said quietly. “Could you not sell it—for me?”
“Oh please, so sentimental,” Tamara rolled her eyes. “It’s my apartment. I’ll do what I want. How about we rent it instead? Is that better?”
“Rent it? No thanks. Renters will destroy it. That’s even worse.”
Tamara chuckled darkly.
“Exactly. So selling it is.”
Katya was speechless. How could her mother be so cold about it?
“You know what, let’s not talk about this right now. I need to think.”
“Good girl. Think hard. I’m going to lie down for a bit. That drive wore me out.”
Tamara disappeared into the bedroom. Katya sat in the kitchen, her mind still racing, when she noticed her mother’s phone charging on the table. It started buzzing.
Ping.
Ping.
Message after message.
Katya picked it up to silence the notifications, but one message caught her eye. “Miss you, sweetheart (heart).”
Curious, she hesitated. Just a peek.
She unlocked the phone. The sender’s name was Valera. She had no idea who that was. A neighbor? An old friend? A coworker?
She read the first message—and froze.
“How about speeding things up? I want to move in already. Waiting for news from you, baby.”
Katya dropped the phone on the table. Baby? Move in?
She snatched it up again and scrolled through the conversation. It got worse.
“Be patient, baby,” her mother had written. “Katya won’t mind. The place is big enough for all of us.”
“Only if I’m the man of the house. I’m not waiting forever. Tell Katya to move out. We’ll sort it out later.”
Katya’s stomach turned. So that’s why her mother was pushing to sell. So that Katya would accept living with some strange man as the lesser evil. If Tamara had said she had a new boyfriend, Katya would have said no to them living together. But now…
Her mother had made her believe she’d sell the apartment otherwise. Of course Katya would rather tolerate a stranger than lose her grandmother’s home.
But Valera’s arrogance was unbelievable. He wanted to kick her out. And her mother was going along with it?
She kept reading.
“Come on, don’t be scared. You deserve happiness. I’ll be in charge, give you a sweet life. Got rose petals ready. I’ll carry you straight to bed.”
Tamara had responded with blushing emojis.
Katya put the phone down, feeling sick. She wanted to confront her mother immediately, scream even—but she knew she had to be smart.
She placed the phone back, hiding all traces of what she’d seen.
Then she walked to the window and took a deep breath. Her mother had always been difficult, but this… this crossed the line. She needed a plan.
An hour later, Tamara came out of the bedroom, stretching.
“Mom, who’s Valera?”
Tamara froze, her face twisting for a moment before she composed herself.
“Valera? Oh, just a friend. From work. We’re talking about some property stuff. Nothing serious.”
“You’re selling the apartment to buy another one with him?”
“No! Don’t be ridiculous. We’re not even that close,” Tamara blushed.
Not that close, thought Katya bitterly, but she stayed silent. She’d seen everything. Her mother was ready to betray her for a fling.
“I see,” she said quietly, staring at her mother.
Tamara fidgeted, then grabbed her bag.
“I’ve got errands to run. See you later.”
As soon as she was gone, Katya sat in silence, thinking. She needed a backup plan. Then she remembered Anya.
Anya was her longtime friend, living in a dorm with her fiancé Dima, saving for a mortgage.
“Anya, hey. What are you up to?”
“Same as always. Uncle Borya’s drunk again, and the neighbors are screaming. It’s a zoo.”
“Want to stay at my place with Dima for a while? We moved into my grandma’s apartment. It’s big. Free. And I could really use the help.”
“Why? You trying to spite your mom or something?”
“Don’t ask. She wants to move in some guy named Valera. I’d rather you two stay here. Just one thing—don’t let her push you around. Act like victims. She won’t have the heart to kick you out. The longer you’re here, the better.”
“Oh wow… Well, Dima and I are simple folks. We can handle it. When?”
“Tomorrow. The sooner the better.”
Anya and Dima arrived that afternoon, before Tamara got back. Katya greeted them with relief.
“All good?” Anya asked, noticing Katya’s nerves.
“Yeah. Just keep your heads down. Don’t provoke her.”
Tamara returned from work with a stormy face.
“What is this? A hostel? What are you playing at?” she hissed, dragging Katya into the kitchen.
“It’s temporary! Anya and Dima need a break from the chaos in their dorm. Be kind.”
“Hmm. I hope they don’t cause problems.”
“Of course not.”
“Well then. I like things clean. Especially the bathroom.”
Within days, the pressure began. Tamara found Dima in the kitchen early one morning and snapped at him for leaving a cup and plate unwashed.
Dima, prepared for worse, calmly apologized and cleaned up.
That night, she complained they talked too loud and that their bed creaked. The couple chuckled and started whispering. Compared to their dorm, this was paradise.
Late at night, Tamara wandered the apartment clanking dishes and coughing loudly, trying to disturb them.
But they slept soundly, used to far worse.
Frustrated, Tamara intensified her attacks. Lights left on, towels hung wrong, time spent in the bathroom—it all became ammunition. One day she even stormed into the bathroom mid-shower, yelling at Anya.
“Hurry up! I need to bathe! You’ve been in there forever!”
“Sure, just finishing up,” Anya replied sweetly.
Outside, she giggled to herself, imagining Tamara’s annoyed face.
But Tamara didn’t stop.
“Why haven’t you dumped Dima? He’s lazy and useless.”
“What? What did he do?”
“Exactly! Nothing! He works from home, doesn’t cook, clean, or do laundry. Not a man, just a sponge!”
“Do you know how much he earns?” Anya blurted without thinking. “A ton!”
Tamara stiffened.
“Oh really? Then why are you freeloading here? Go rent a place!”
Anya retreated, realizing she’d made things worse.
Katya’s plan was falling apart. Tamara, furious at being deceived, demanded they leave.
Katya sat at the kitchen table, wondering how her mother had fallen for someone like Valera. He was clearly a manipulative liar. But Tamara had been glowing with him, as if nothing else mattered.
She doesn’t see beyond her own nose, Katya thought sadly.
She realized it was time to act. Even if the plan with Anya had worked, it was only temporary. She needed to go after Valera directly.
She changed her name and profile online, deleted her mother from friends, and found Valera’s account. She sent him a friend request, with a message: “Wow, what a handsome guy next to that bike.”
Valera took the bait instantly.
“Hey cutie. Want a ride? Not for free though. You’ll have to hug me,” he replied.
Katya smiled. It had begun.
They started chatting, casually at first. Then she began sending flirty photos—shorts, swimsuits. Nothing too revealing. Just enough.
“Damn, you’re hot,” Valera replied.
She laughed. Men were so predictable.
Valera got bolder with each message.
“When do we meet? Maybe at my place?”
“Let’s go for a walk in the park first,” she teased.
They met that same day.
Valera showed up in his favorite leather jacket, the same one from all his photos. He tried to act younger, but the effect was more desperate than charming. He immediately began making suggestive moves.
Katya played along just enough to keep him hooked.
He nearly burst with excitement when she said, “Let’s stop by my place. I need to grab a different purse.”
His eyes lit up. He had no idea what was waiting.
The second they walked in, he wrapped his arms around her. She giggled and teased him loudly: “Valera, stop, you naughty thing.”
That was the moment Tamara walked out, alerted by the noise.
When her eyes met his, Valera froze.
“You? What are you doing… with my daughter?” Tamara’s voice trembled.
Their faces were priceless.
Katya stood there, arms crossed, barely holding in her laughter.
Tamara’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. Her eyes bulged.
Valera’s lips quivered. He had nothing to say.
Tamara snapped out of it, grabbed the nearest slipper, and hurled it at him.
“You scumbag!”
“I’m sorry! I got carried away! It’s you I want!”
“You liar! You told me you loved me!”
Tamara now had a coat in hand, flinging it at him. Katya’s coat. She didn’t even mind—she was laughing uncontrollably.
Valera scrambled like a trapped rat and bolted out the door, fleeing without a word.
Katya couldn’t stop laughing. But Tamara wasn’t amused.
“What was that? Are you insane?” she yelled.
Katya shrugged. “You really thought he was faithful? It was obvious.”
Tamara stood there, seething with shame, betrayal, and rage.
“You did this on purpose? Why?”
“To show you who he really is. He wanted your money, nothing else.”
Tamara dropped into a chair, speechless. She finally saw it. Valera never cared about her. He only ever talked about the apartment.
Weeks passed. Katya and Tamara didn’t speak.
Eventually, they had a quiet talk. They decided to go their separate ways. The apartment was sold.
Despite everything, Tamara gave Katya a portion of the money. She was still her daughter.
Katya used it to buy a small flat and began investing. Tamara moved in with her sister in another city.
Rumor had it she had a new admirer.