“Did you think he married you just like that?” the mother-in-law smirked, demanding that she sell her apartment for the sake of their family business.
Anna was flipping eggs in the frying pan when Dmitry’s sharp voice rang out behind her.
“What more delays?” her husband snapped, pressing the phone to his ear as he paced nervously around the kitchen. “I told you, by the end of the month… No, it can’t be sooner!”
Anna froze, spatula in hand. Dmitry rarely raised his voice.
“Fine, fine,” he muttered, throwing the phone onto the table and rubbing his face with both hands.
“What happened?” Anna turned off the stove and faced him.
“The bank,” Dmitry sank onto a chair. “Mom and I are in serious trouble. The café… the debts are growing every day. The bank is threatening to take everything we pledged.”
Anna sat opposite him. In three years of marriage, Dmitry had never looked so lost.
“How serious is it?”
“Serious enough that we could lose everything,” he took her hand. “Anya, I need to know how much you’ve saved. Maybe we can do something.”
Anna slowly pulled her hand free and stood up to set breakfast on the plates. Her savings… she had been putting them aside for five years, from every paycheck.
“Dim, let’s talk about this tonight,” she said, avoiding a direct answer. “I need to get to work.”
At the office, Anna tried to focus on reports, but her thoughts kept circling back to their morning conversation. Dmitry had always seemed so confident. That morning, for the first time, she had seen him truly frightened.
“Anya, why so pensive?” asked her colleague Sveta, peeking over the partition.
“Oh, just family stuff,” Anna tore her eyes from the monitor.
“I met up with a friend yesterday,” Sveta perched on the edge of the desk. “Imagine — she got dragged into her husband’s debts, lost the apartment. Now she’s living with her mother, two kids in tow.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. He told her it was just temporary trouble, while secretly pouring money down the drain. She believed him, helped out — and ended up with nothing.”
Anna nodded, but Sveta’s words lodged painfully in her mind.
At six in the evening, the phone rang.
“Anya, could you stop by Mom’s?” Dmitry asked. “She wants to talk to us.”
Valentina Petrovna’s eyes were red from crying. The mother-in-law sat at the kitchen table, a stack of papers spread out before her.
“Anyechka, darling,” the woman sobbed. “The bank gave us a final ultimatum. In a month they’ll take the café for the debts.”
“Mom, calm down,” Dmitry sat beside her.
“How can I calm down?” Valentina Petrovna grabbed a napkin. “That café is my life’s work! I’ve been running it for twenty years! And those bankers want to take it all away!”
Anna listened to her mother-in-law’s lament and watched Dmitry. He sat with a dark face, patting his mother’s shoulder consolingly.
“Competitors set us up! And the crisis… who could’ve imagined it would be like this?” Valentina went on. “Anyechka, you’re part of this family. We’re counting on you.”
Dmitry cast his wife a meaningful glance.
On the way home, her husband was silent.
“Mom’s very upset,” he finally said. “She could lose the family business.”
Anna stayed quiet.
At home, already in bed, Dmitry spoke bluntly:
“Anya, I need your help. Lend me money to save the café.”
“How much?”
“It’s only temporary — we’ll return everything once things improve,” he hugged her. “But we need a large amount. We could take out a loan against the apartment.”
Anna sat up abruptly.
“Dim, are you seriously suggesting risking the apartment?”
“It’s not a risk; it’s an investment in our shared future,” he sat up too.
“Give me time to think,” Anna lay back and turned toward the wall.
The next morning Dmitry was especially tender — he brought her coffee in bed, kissed the top of her head.
“Anya, I know I’m asking a lot,” he said gently. “But we’re a family. We’ll definitely pay it all back.”
Anna nodded, but inside everything clenched. The apartment was her safety, the result of years of work. Her mother had always said: never gamble with your home.
“I’ll think about it,” she repeated. “But I’m not ready to risk the apartment.”
A week passed in silence. On Friday Dmitry stormed home, grim.
“That’s it, Anya,” he threw his bag on the floor. “The bank sped up collection. There’s no time.”
“What does that mean?”
“In two weeks they’ll seize the café,” he sank heavily onto a chair. “Mom’s hysterical.”
Anna froze by the stove.
“Anya, the apartment is the only way to get the money fast,” he said flatly. “There’s no other option.”
“Maybe find investors? Or negotiate with the bank?”
“Anya, you’re living in your own world! We’ve tried everything!”
That night Anna woke to hear her husband whispering by the window.
“Mom, what can I do? She’s stubborn… Yes, I’ll try to talk to her again…”
On Saturday, her mother-in-law invited them for lunch. The whole family gathered at the table.
“Anyechka, darling,” Valentina ladled out borscht. “A real wife should trust her husband. In hard times, a family must pull together…”
“Anyechka, a little risk never hurt anyone,” Dmitry’s sister added. “You’ll save the family business.”
“Investments in business always pay off,” her husband chimed in.
“You know, Anya,” Dmitry put a hand on her shoulder, “we need to sell the apartment. It’s the only way.”
“Sell it? Before, you were talking about a mortgage.”
“A mortgage won’t give us enough,” Dmitry replied calmly.
Anna stood up from the table.
“Excuse me, I need the bathroom.”
In the bathroom, Anna dialed her friend Olga.
“Olya, can we meet? I need to talk.”
The next day at a café, Olga listened attentively.
“Anya, what if the café can’t be saved?” her friend asked. “Remember Lena from the bank? Her husband asked her to sell their apartment for his business. She agreed. The business went under, she lost the apartment. Anya, no one has the right to force you to risk your home. Not even your husband.”
That evening, Anna returned with a firm decision.
“Dim, I’m not selling the apartment,” she said plainly.
“What do you mean you’re not?” Dmitry’s voice turned harsh.
“I mean it. That’s final.”
“Anya, do you understand what you’re doing?” Dmitry jumped up. “You’re destroying the family! Pure selfishness!”
“I’m protecting our home!”
“You only think about yourself! You don’t care about the family!”
“That’s not true! I’m willing to help, but not at the cost of a roof over our heads!”
“A real wife trusts her husband!” he shouted. “You’re not even a woman—just a selfish brat!”
Dmitry grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To people who understand what family means!” he snapped and slammed the door.
For three days Dmitry didn’t appear. On Thursday he returned with roses.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I was wrong. The stress got to me — I lost control.”
Anna accepted the flowers, but the tension lingered.
“Dim, I want to help your mom too, but…”
“I know,” he hugged her. “We’ll figure something out. The main thing is, we’re together.”
The next day Valentina Petrovna called.
“Anyechka, come over tonight,” her voice was formal. “We need to talk.”
Anna drove to her mother-in-law’s with a heavy feeling. Valentina met her at the door with a stony face.
“Come in, sit down,” she gestured to the sofa, where Dmitry was already seated.
A stack of bank papers lay on the table.
“Anyechka, look for yourself,” Valentina picked up the top sheet. “There’s almost nothing left before they start seizing property. Then everything will be taken.”
Anna silently examined the papers. The figures made her throat tighten.
“We demand that you sell the apartment and give the money to save the café,” the mother-in-law said firmly. “It’s your duty to the family.”
“Mom’s right,” Dmitry supported her quietly. “You have to save the family.”
Anna raised her head and looked at them both — two faces full of determination.
“Give me time to think,” she said, standing up.
“There’s no time!” Valentina shouted. “Decide now!”
“Tomorrow,” Anna replied firmly and walked out.
At home, she wandered through the apartment, touching familiar things. These walls had seen her tears after hard days, the joy of her first career successes. The apartment wasn’t just a place to live — it was her independence, the result of years of work.
The phone rang.
“Anya, so what did you decide?” Dmitry’s voice was tense.
“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” she said, hanging up. “And stay at your mom’s tonight.”
The next day Anna arrived at her mother-in-law’s with a firm decision. Valentina and Dmitry were waiting in the living room.
“I’m not selling the apartment,” Anna said the moment she entered.
“What do you mean you’re not?” Valentina shot to her feet. “You’re obligated to help the family!”
“That’s not my obligation,” Anna replied calmly.
“Anya, please,” Dmitry stepped closer. “We love each other…”
Anna looked at him intently.
“Love? You love my apartment.”
Valentina shrieked:
“Ungrateful! If you won’t sell the apartment, what good are you!” Seeing the shock on her daughter-in-law’s face, she added, “What, did you think he married you for nothing?”
Silence filled the room. Dmitry paled, staring at his mother.
“Mom, why did you say that?” he whispered.
Anna exhaled slowly.
“Repeat what you just said,” she asked quietly.
“I said the truth!” Valentina was beside herself. “Some beauty you are! He married you for your apartment!”
Anna nodded and headed for the door. Dmitry tried to stop her.
“Anya, don’t listen to her! She’s speaking out of desperation!”
“Step aside,” Anna said and walked out.
Late that evening Dmitry came home, looking guilty.
“I’m sorry, Mom lost her temper,” he began cautiously. “You know I love you…”
Anna sat in the kitchen with a cup of tea, looking at her husband as if he were a stranger.
“Dim, did you really marry me for the apartment?” she asked quietly.
“Anya, what are you saying?” he avoided her gaze. “I love you…”
“Look me in the eyes and say it,” Anna stood up.
Dmitry stayed silent, staring at the floor.
“Tomorrow I’m filing for divorce,” she said calmly.
A month later, Anna was signing the last papers in the lawyer’s office. The apartment remained hers — Dmitry hadn’t been able to prove any rights to it.
“Congratulations, you’re free,” the lawyer said with a smile.
At home, Anna called her friend Olga.
“Olya, how about we meet up this weekend?” she suggested. “It’s been a while.”
“Of course!” Olga was delighted. “How are you doing?”
“Great,” Anna smiled. “For the first time in a long while, I’m truly free.”
After the call, Anna took out the property papers for the apartment. Only her name stood on the title page. She began to make plans — maybe find a more interesting job, take the vacation she’d long dreamed of. Most importantly, she had kept what mattered most: herself and her independence.
She smiled, looking at the documents. Free.
