— Since you got the apartment, consider it good luck for our whole family! So shut your mouth and live by our rules! — he spat in my face.
Olga was sitting in the kitchen, sorting through documents from the notary’s office. The apartment from Uncle Mikhail — a two-room flat in a good district. Olga hadn’t even expected such an inheritance, since she and her uncle had hardly spoken in recent years.
— Ol, aren’t you asleep yet? — Sergey came into the kitchen, stretching after watching TV.
— I’m going through the documents, — Olga replied without looking up.
Sergey came closer and peered over his wife’s shoulder. Olga noticed how his expression changed — something greedy, almost predatory, flickered in his eyes.
— Well, what luck! — Sergey exclaimed. — Now we’ve got two apartments!
Olga tensed at that “we.” The apartment had come to her alone, but she didn’t argue — she was too tired after work.
The next day, as soon as Olga returned from work, the doorbell rang. On the threshold stood Tamara Ivanovna — her mother-in-law in person, with a cake and a bottle of champagne.
— Olechka, dear! — Tamara Ivanovna hugged her daughter-in-law with unusual warmth. — Sergey told me about the inheritance. What happiness for our whole family!
Olga shuddered inwardly at this fake affection. In six years of marriage, her mother-in-law had rarely called her by name, preferring simply “you.”
— Come in, Tamara Ivanovna, — Olga stepped aside, letting her in.
Over tea, Tamara Ivanovna quickly got to the point:
— You know, I was thinking… Irina and little Maksim are so cramped in their one-room flat. The boy is growing, he’ll be starting school soon, and poor thing doesn’t even have his own room. Maybe you could let them live in that apartment?
Olga set her cup down on the saucer:
— Tamara Ivanovna, I haven’t yet decided what I’ll do with the apartment. I might rent it out.
Her mother-in-law frowned:
— Rent it out to strangers, when your own need help? Olechka, we’re family!
At that moment Sergey returned. He immediately understood what the conversation was about and sat down next to his mother.
— Mom’s right, Ol. Why pay strangers when Irka can live there? And we don’t really need extra income — you earn well.
Olga felt irritation rising inside her. Her husband, who had been unemployed for the past six months after yet another dismissal, was reasoning about how they didn’t need money.
— Let’s discuss this later, — Olga tried to close the topic. — I need time to think.
But Tamara Ivanovna had no intention of backing off. The following weeks turned into a real siege. Her mother-in-law called several times a day, Irina would “accidentally” drop by and complain about the cramped space, and even five-year-old Maksim was drawn into the campaign — the nephew, with sad eyes, would ask Aunt Olya why he didn’t have his own room like other children.
Sergey took the position of silent support for his mother. He didn’t pressure openly, but he constantly sighed, shook his head, hinting that Olga was being selfish.
After a month, Olga’s patience began to run out. Once again, the family gathered for dinner — Tamara Ivanovna brought Sergey’s favorite pie, Irina dragged Maksim along.
— Olya, we’ve been waiting for your decision for a month now, — began Tamara Ivanovna as soon as everyone sat down at the table. — Irina needs to plan the move, maybe some repairs. You can’t drag this out!
— I said I’d think about it, — Olga replied wearily.
— What is there to think about! — Irina flared up. — You’ve got two apartments, and we’re crammed into a one-room flat with a child! Do you even understand what that’s like?
Olga looked at her sister-in-law. Irina hadn’t worked for three years, living off alimony from her ex-husband and her mother’s help.
— Irina, no one’s forcing you to cram yourself in. You can find a job, rent a bigger place.
— Oh, so you think I should slave away while you’ve got an empty apartment sitting there? — Irina raised her voice.
— It’s not an empty apartment, it’s my inheritance, — Olga said firmly.
— Which you got for nothing, just by luck! — Irina shouted.
Tamara Ivanovna placed a calming hand on her daughter’s shoulder, then turned to her daughter-in-law:
— Olechka, you’re now obliged to think about your husband’s family. This is our common good fortune, do you understand? A family must support one another.
Olga shifted her gaze to Sergey. He sat staring at his plate, clearly unwilling to defend his wife.
— Sergey, what do you say? — Olga asked him directly.
Her husband raised his eyes, and Olga saw irritation in them:
— Mom’s right, Olya. Family is more important than anything. I don’t understand your stubbornness.
Olga felt something break inside her. The man she had married for love, with whom she had lived for six years, didn’t think it necessary to support his wife.
— I will decide myself what to do with the apartment, — Olga said slowly, rising from the table. — And this is not up for discussion.
— Sit down! — Sergey suddenly barked, jumping up. — Stop acting like you run the world!
Olga froze, stunned by her husband’s tone. Sergey had never raised his voice to her before.
— Since you got the apartment, consider it luck for our whole family! — Sergey spat, stepping right up to her. — So shut your mouth and live by our rules!
A dead silence fell in the room. Even little Maksim clung fearfully to his mother. Olga looked at her husband, not recognizing the man she had lived with for so many years.
Tamara Ivanovna was the first to recover:
— You see, Olya, my son is absolutely right! Family matters more than your whims. The apartment should go to those who need it more. No reason for you to be difficult about it!
Olga slowly turned her gaze from her mother-in-law to her husband, then to Irina. Her sister-in-law sat with a satisfied smirk, savoring her impending victory.
A lump of ice tightened in Olga’s chest, but with the cold came crystalline clarity. If she gave in now, she’d lose not only the apartment — she’d lose herself.
— This apartment is mine, — Olga said clearly, looking straight into her husband’s eyes. — I inherited it from my uncle. And I alone will decide what to do with it. If anyone doesn’t like that — the door is open.
— What, you’re kicking us out? — Irina shrieked.
— I’m setting boundaries, — Olga replied calmly. — In my home, my decisions will be respected.
— In your home? — Sergey sneered. — Don’t forget, I’m your husband!
— A husband who just told me to shut up and live by someone else’s rules, — Olga retorted. — You know what, Sergey? I need to think not only about the apartment, but also about our marriage.
Tamara Ivanovna jumped to her feet:
— How dare you! Threatening my son? You should be down on your knees thanking God that such a man married you!
— A man who’s been unemployed for six months and living off my salary? — Olga no longer held back. — Who drags his relatives in to decide how I should manage my own property?
— Mom, Ira, let’s go, — Sergey took his mother by the arm. — No point staying here. Let her sit alone in her apartments.
When the door closed behind her husband’s family, Olga slowly sank into a chair. Her hands trembled slightly from the tension, but inside there was only a strange emptiness.
An hour later the phone rang. Sergey. Olga didn’t pick up. Then the messages started pouring in — first from her husband, demanding she come to her senses, then from Tamara Ivanovna, filled with threats and insults.
Olga switched off the phone and went to the bedroom. On the nightstand stood their wedding photo. Young, happy, full of hope. Olga picked up the frame and laid it face down.
The following days passed in a strange daze. Sergey didn’t return home, staying with his mother. Tamara Ivanovna called Olga at work, complaining to acquaintances that her daughter-in-law had thrown out her son. Irina posted angry messages on social media.
But for the first time, Olga felt an inner strength. Her uncle’s inheritance had become a litmus test, revealing the true face of her husband’s family — and of her husband himself.
A week later, Sergey showed up — disheveled, unshaven, his eyes red.
— Olya, let’s talk, — he asked from the doorway.
Olga silently let him in. He went into the kitchen and sat down at his usual spot at the table.
— I lost my temper, — he began. — But you weren’t any better. You could’ve met me halfway.
— Halfway in what, Sergey? — Olga asked calmly. — Giving your sister my apartment?
— Not give, just let her stay there. We’re family, we should help each other.
Olga shook her head:
— Family isn’t only about taking, it’s about giving too. What has your family given me over these years, except demands and complaints?
Sergey was silent, then abruptly said:
— If you’re not willing to help my relatives, maybe we really should separate.
Olga looked at her husband for a long moment:
— Maybe, Sergey. Maybe.
That evening, when her husband once again went back to his mother’s, Olga sat by the window with a cup of tea. Outside, the lights of the evening city were coming on. Somewhere out there, in one of the districts, stood that very apartment from Uncle Mikhail. An apartment that had become not just an inheritance, but a test.
Olga thought about what would come next. About divorce, about living alone, about new possibilities. She wasn’t afraid. On the contrary — for the first time in a long while, Olga felt she was in control of her own life.
The phone rang again — Tamara Ivanovna. Olga declined the call and blocked the number. Then she opened her laptop and began looking up information about renting out the apartment. Life went on, and Olga intended to live it by her own rules.
