“So, making a profit off the apartment at your mother’s instigation turned out to be more important than your wife! Now you have neither a home nor a family!” I shouted, dragging my suitcase.
Olga was rearranging photos on the shelf, admiring the sunlight streaming through the windows of their two-room apartment. Two and a half years ago, her parents had given her this gift for her wedding—a cozy home in a quiet part of the city. Her mother had said at the time, “May you have a strong home, my daughter.” Her father had hugged Olga silently, but his gaze said a lot—her parents wanted to be confident in their only daughter’s future.
“Olga, are you home?” Viktor’s voice called from the hallway in the evening.
“In the kitchen,” Olga replied, putting the kettle on.
Viktor walked into the kitchen, tossed his bag onto a chair, and wearily rubbed his face. Two and a half years of marriage had taught Olga to read her husband’s mood from the slightest gestures. Now Viktor was clearly preoccupied with something.
“How are things?” Olga asked, pouring tea into their favorite mugs.
“Fine,” Viktor muttered without looking up. “Hey, did Irina call today?”
Olga tensed. Her husband’s sister rarely called just to chat. Usually, Irina appeared in their lives when there was something to discuss or push.
“No, she hasn’t. Why?”
“Just wondering,” Vitya said, taking a big sip from his mug. “She visited Mom yesterday. They talked about us there.”
Olga sat across from Viktor, feeling a growing anxiety inside. Over two and a half years of married life, she had come to understand her husband’s family. His mother, Lyudmila Sergeyevna, was a controlling woman used to managing her son’s life. Irina, Viktor’s younger sister, was straightforward and never hesitated to voice her opinions on any matter.
“And what did they talk about?” Olga asked cautiously.
Viktor fidgeted, turning the mug in his hands.
“Well… about our apartment. About how we live.”
Olga felt her shoulders tense. The topic of the apartment had been sensitive for Viktor since the beginning of their marriage. He could not accept the fact that they were living in a home given by Olga’s parents. It bruised his pride, even though Olga never reproached him or reminded him whose property it was.
“And specifically, what worries them?” Olga asked, trying to stay calm.
“Irina said…” Viktor finally looked up, “…that since the apartment was a wedding gift, it’s common property. And that we could be using it more wisely.”
Olga slowly set her mug on the table. Her husband’s sister’s words did not surprise her—Irina had already hinted more than once that Olga was too attached to her parents’ gift.
“What does she mean by ‘more wisely’?” Olga asked quietly.
“Well, for example, we could sell it and invest the money in some joint venture,” Viktor said, not looking at his wife. “Irina thinks it would benefit everyone.”
Olga remained silent, but something tightened inside her. She understood what her husband’s relatives were implying. The apartment was worth a considerable sum, and that sum attracted greedy eyes.
“Olga, what do you think?” Viktor asked cautiously.
“I think it’s a gift from my parents,” Olga replied, looking him straight in the eyes. “And I’m not going to part with it.”
Viktor nodded, but Olga noticed his eye twitch. The conversation was over, but she knew—this was only the beginning.
The following weeks passed relatively calmly. Viktor did not bring up the apartment again, but Olga felt him occasionally casting assessing glances her way, as if weighing something, preparing to take an important step.
The turning point came on an autumn evening. Olga was preparing dinner when Viktor entered the kitchen and sat at the table. His face showed determination.
“Olga, we need to talk,” Viktor began in a serious tone.
“I’m listening,” Olga replied, not turning away from the stove.
“You understand that the apartment came to us thanks to your parents,” Viktor chose his words carefully, “and I am very grateful to Lidia Nikolaevna and Andrey Mikhailovich for their generosity.”
Olga turned to her husband. There was something in his intonation that made her wary.
“But?” she asked.
“But maybe it’s time to think about a fresh start together?” Viktor blurted out. “We’re young, we have our whole lives ahead of us. We can create something of our own, build our future with our own hands.”
Olga turned off the stove and sat across from him. She studied Viktor’s face carefully, trying to determine if he was speaking from his own thoughts or echoing someone else’s ideas.
“And what exactly are you suggesting?” Olga asked.
“Well, we could sell the apartment,” Viktor spoke quickly, as if afraid he might change his mind. “Invest the money in a business or buy something more suitable for a young family.”
Olga looked him straight in the eye and responded coldly:
“This is my gift. My parents entrusted the apartment to me, not to you or your sister.”
Viktor paled at her bluntness. He had clearly expected softer words, a gentler reaction.
“Olga, we’re a family,” Viktor tried to object. “Everything should be shared between us.”
“Not everything, Vitya,” Olga replied firmly. “This apartment is a memory of my parents’ care. And I will not allow a gift to become a matter of trade.”
The conversation ended there, but Olga knew that her husband’s family would not back down easily. And she was right.
A few days later, Lyudmila Sergeyevna came to visit. The mother-in-law looked solemn and determined, as if she were about to conduct an important negotiation.
“Olena,” Lyudmila Sergeyevna began, settling into an armchair, “I want to have a heart-to-heart with you, as a mother would with a daughter.”
Olga poured the tea and sat across from her mother-in-law, mentally preparing for an unpleasant discussion.
“You see, family is a shared thing,” Lyudmila Sergeyevna continued in a lecturing tone. “When people marry, they become one. There shouldn’t be any ‘mine’ or ‘yours.’”
“I agree,” Olga replied calmly. “But there are things that are precious not materially, but spiritually.”
“Spirituality is fine,” her mother-in-law nodded, “but practicality is important too. Do you want to stand out? Show that you have what Viktor doesn’t?”
Olga felt a surge of indignation rising inside her. For Lyudmila Sergeyevna, the question of the apartment was a test of her daughter-in-law’s obedience. The mother-in-law wanted to see if Olga was willing to submit to the family hierarchy.
“Lyudmila Sergeyevna,” Olga said, striving to remain polite, “I don’t want to humiliate anyone or stand out. It’s just that this apartment means a lot to me.”
“So your feelings are more important than the family’s well-being?” the mother-in-law squinted.
Olga remained silent, knowing that any words would be turned against her. Lyudmila Sergeyevna had achieved her goal—sowing seeds of doubt and irritation.
After her mother-in-law left, Olga increasingly caught herself thinking that her marriage had become a battleground for other people’s schemes. Instead of warmth and support, she felt constant pressure and greed. Her husband’s relatives saw the apartment as a juicy prize to be seized at any cost.
Viktor changed too. He became silent and pensive, often speaking on the phone in a hushed voice. Olga didn’t eavesdrop, but she suspected that his family continued to influence him, urging him to take control of the apartment.
The final conversation happened over dinner on a November evening. Viktor put down his fork and looked seriously at his wife.
“Olga, I’ve been thinking a lot about our conversation,” he began. “And I realized that we’re missing some excellent opportunities.”
“What opportunities?” Olga asked, though she already suspected where the discussion was headed.
“If we sell the apartment, we can take another mortgage and buy a spacious home,” Viktor said enthusiastically. “Imagine: a three-room apartment in a new building, modern renovation, excellent layout. It’s a great deal!”
Olga listened carefully, and with each word, her indignation grew. Viktor was speaking of her parents’ apartment as if it were a commodity that could be sold to improve their living conditions.
“And if I don’t want to sell?” Olga asked quietly.
“Why wouldn’t you want to?” Viktor was surprised. “We’d get better living conditions.”
“Because it’s a gift from my parents,” Olga replied. “And I will not turn their care into a commercial transaction.”
Viktor frowned.
“Olga, you’re thinking too narrowly. You need to think about the future, not cling to sentiment.”
Something inside Olga finally snapped. She abruptly stood from the table and looked at her husband with such fury that Viktor instinctively recoiled…
“Just try to touch my apartment—and you’ll be out the same day!” Olga said coldly.
Viktor paled in surprise. He was used to a gentle, compliant wife, and now he saw a determination in Olga’s eyes that genuinely frightened him.
“Olga, what’s gotten into you?” Viktor mumbled, flustered. “I didn’t mean to hurt you…”
“Hurt me?” Olga laughed, but the laughter was sharp and bitter. “You wanted to sell the memory of my parents for your own ambitions. And you’re surprised by my reaction?”
Viktor tried to argue, but Olga had already left the kitchen, slamming the door behind her.
The next day, Irina appeared in their apartment. Viktor’s sister looked indignant and ready for a confrontation.
“Olga, I need to talk to you,” Irina declared, not even greeting her.
“I’m listening,” Olga replied, not inviting her to sit.
“You’re selfish!” Irina blurted. “You only think of yourself! Viktor is your husband, and yet you refuse to meet him halfway.”
Olga calmly listened to the accusations and responded just as calmly:
“Irina, this apartment doesn’t concern you or your mother. It is my personal property.”
“Personal?” Irina exclaimed. “You’re a married woman! You can’t have anything personal!”
“Yes, I can,” Olga replied firmly. “And I will.”
After Irina left, Olga realized that if she remained silent and gave in, the apartment would become prey for other people’s ambitions. Her husband’s relatives would not stop until they got what they wanted. She had to act firmly and without compromise.
Olga took out the apartment documents and read them carefully. Everything was registered in her name; there were no legal loopholes. Yet the pressure from Viktor’s family was becoming unbearable.
The decisive moment came a week later. Viktor returned home after another family council at his mother’s. His face showed determination and a hint of aggression.
“Olga, we need to settle the apartment issue once and for all,” Viktor declared, keeping his jacket on.
“The issue is already settled,” Olga replied calmly. “The apartment remains mine.”
“No, it doesn’t!” Viktor raised his voice. “We are a family, and everything should be shared. You can’t just decide for the both of us.”
“Can you?” Olga asked coldly.
“I am a man, the head of the family!” Viktor exclaimed. “And I’m saying—the apartment must be sold for the future of our family.”
Olga slowly rose from the sofa and headed toward the bedroom. Viktor followed, continuing to try to persuade her:
“Think about it—we’re young and healthy. We can earn enough for a new home. Why cling to the old one?”
Olga silently pulled a suitcase from the closet and began packing her things. Viktor fell silent, watching her actions.
“What are you doing?” the husband asked, confused.
“Packing your things,” Olga replied, continuing to pack.
“Why?”
“Go back to your family if life in MY apartment is such a burden to you,” Olga said.
Viktor tried to stop her, grabbing her hand:
“Olga, there’s no need to dramatize! Let’s calmly discuss this.”
Olga freed her hand and turned to him. The determination in her eyes made Viktor instinctively step back.
“There’s nothing to discuss, Viktor,” Olga said coldly. “You made your choice. Profiting from the apartment at the instigation of your mother and sister turned out to be more important to you than your own wife.”
“What do my mother and Irina have to do with it?” Viktor tried to argue. “I’m thinking about our future!”
“No,” Olga shook her head. “You’re thinking about pleasing your family at my expense.”
“They made the suggestion, and you resisted.”
Olga zipped up the suitcase and placed it by the door. Viktor tried to explain, but Olga no longer listened. She gestured toward the exit and delivered the words that sealed their marriage:
“So, your greed for the apartment, stirred by your relatives, turned out to be more important to you than respecting your wife. Well, now you have neither an apartment nor a family!”
Viktor froze, speechless. He left the apartment without looking back. He didn’t even have a chance to justify himself. Everything collapsed in a single moment.
The following days passed for Olga in a fog. She tried to regain her composure and decide what to do next. Viktor called, sent messages, begged for a meeting. But Olga did not respond.
Lyudmila Sergeyevna and Irina also tried to contact her. The mother-in-law accused her daughter-in-law of destroying the family; Irina threatened legal action. But the apartment documents remained with Olga, and legally, her husband’s relatives could do nothing.
A week later, Olga met with a lawyer and filed for divorce. She no longer wanted to live in constant tension, defending her right to her own property.
When all the formalities were complete, the apartment felt different to Olga—more spacious, more luminous. It was as if a heavy burden had lifted.
It was difficult for Olga to accept the collapse of her marriage, but a sense of liberation arose within her. She knew it was better to be alone than to be an object in someone else’s hands. Her parents had given the apartment to THEIR DAUGHTER for a reason—they wanted Olga always to have a home to return to.
Sitting in her living room that evening, Olga smiled for the first time in a long while. She had lost her husband, but she had kept herself and her home. And that was more important than anything. Outside, the lights of the evening city flickered on, and the apartment was warm and cozy. The home, given with love, remained with Olga. And no one would ever dare to lay claim to what truly belonged to her by right.
