“You’re Not the Mistress of This House While Mom Is Here!” he roared, slamming his fist on the table
She sat on the very edge of the sofa, clutching her hands in her lap so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. Through the half-open kitchen door came the clatter of dishes and Larisa Petrovna’s irritated voice.
“Once again, you’ve put too much salt in the soup,” her mother-in-law said loudly enough to make sure her daughter-in-law heard her and came out of the kitchen. “And honestly, I don’t understand how anyone can be such a hopeless housekeeper,” she added as she stepped into the hallway.
Vera took a deep breath. Her head was ringing as though she had been struck. She wanted to scream, run out of the apartment, slam the door behind her, and keep running wherever her feet took her. But she remained sitting there, rooted to the spot.
When Maksim entered the kitchen, their eyes met. Vera’s gaze contained everything: exhaustion, hurt, and one silent question:
When is this finally going to end?
But instead of supporting her, her husband looked away, as he always did. He poured himself some tea and dropped heavily into a chair.
“Maksim, we need to talk,” Vera began quietly, approaching him. “I can’t live like this anymore.”
“About what?” he muttered without looking at her.
“Either she moves out, or I do. I’m exhausted, do you understand? This is my home too.”
At that moment, Larisa Petrovna appeared in the kitchen, holding a folded towel against her chest. She wore the expression of a victor, as though she had been listening to every word.
“Oh, so that’s how it is!” Her mother-in-law looked at her son. “So I’m getting in her way now? I happen to be your mother! Maksim, tell her!”
Maksim slammed his cup onto the table so hard that tea spilled onto the tablecloth. He jumped to his feet.
“You’re not the mistress of this house while Mom is here!” he roared, slamming his fist on the table so hard that Vera flinched.
Silence filled the kitchen. Somewhere behind the wall, a clock continued ticking.
Vera slowly stood up. Tears glittered in her eyes, but her voice sounded surprisingly calm.
“So this isn’t my home. I understand now.”
She left the kitchen like a shadow. But a plan was already forming in her mind—a plan that would turn all their lives upside down.
Vera slowly entered the bedroom and closed the door behind her. She stood in the middle of the room, feeling her hands tremble. Only one sentence kept circling through her mind:
“You’re not the mistress of this house…”
Her phone lay on the bedside table. Vera grabbed it and opened a chat with the only person she felt she could trust.
“Dad, can I stay with you for a couple of days?”
The reply came immediately.
“What happened?”
“I’ll explain later. Just tell me I can come.”
“Of course you can. I’m always happy to see you.”
She drew a deep breath, sat down on the bed, and closed her eyes.
Her father had remarried. After her parents’ divorce, they hadn’t seen each other very often, but he had always remained someone she could rely on. And today Vera was ready to go to him, if only temporarily, so that she could feel safe again.
Voices came from behind the door. Larisa Petrovna was whispering indignantly to her son.
Vera packed her documents and a couple of changes of clothes into a bag. She did everything quietly and carefully, almost as though she were afraid that one careless sound might frighten away her determination.
Then suddenly her mother-in-law’s voice seeped through the door.
“…And if she leaves, we’ll finally be able to live peacefully. I always told you, Maksim, you married her too early. The girl has no backbone, and she’s completely useless around the house…”
Vera froze.
And at that moment, something inside her clicked.
She stopped being afraid.
She threw the door open. Larisa Petrovna abruptly fell silent and turned around. Maksim stood beside her, his face flushed—not so much with anger as with confusion.
“You’re right, Larisa Petrovna,” Vera said calmly. “There’s no place for me here.”
She picked up her bag and headed toward the front door.
“Wait!” Maksim rushed after her. “Where are you going?”
“Home,” she replied with a faint smile. “Somewhere I’m respected.”
He grabbed her arm, but she pulled free.
“Vera, don’t do anything stupid. Mom, go wait in the room!” he shouted at his mother, but Larisa merely snorted and disappeared into the hallway.
Vera had already put on her jacket when the doorbell rang.
“Who else is it now?” Maksim muttered irritably and opened the door.
An older man with a confident gaze stood on the threshold.
Vera almost dropped her bag.
“Dad?” she whispered.
“Hello, Verochka,” he said with a gentle smile before looking over his daughter’s head directly at Maksim. “And you, I suppose, are what passes for her husband?”
“And who are you?” Maksim asked warily.
“I’m her father. And I’ve come to take my daughter away from a place where she is being humiliated.”
Maksim hesitated.
Larisa Petrovna appeared in the hallway again and hissed:
“Who invited you here?”
“And who might you be, excuse me?” Vera’s father raised an eyebrow and gave her mother-in-law such a look that she suddenly lowered her eyes. “Oh, yes… the very mother because of whom my child cries at night?”
For the first time in a long while, Vera felt warmth spreading through her chest.
“Come on, Verochka,” her father said, putting an arm around her shoulders. “It’s time you started living for yourself.”
And she stepped across the threshold.
Vera sat in her father’s kitchen, turning a cup of tea between her hands without feeling its warmth. Her father put a plate of sandwiches in front of her and sat opposite, studying his daughter carefully.
“You’re trembling all over,” he said quietly. “If you want, we’ll go to a lawyer tomorrow. Let that… what’s his name… Maksim understand that you have someone standing behind you now.”
Vera nodded, although inside she wasn’t nearly so certain.
She knew Maksim too well. He wasn’t the kind of man who surrendered easily, especially when he felt that his comfortable life was under threat.
The phone on the table vibrated.
The screen showed Maksim.
Vera wanted to silence it, but her father stopped her.
“Answer it. Just put it on speaker.”
She took a deep breath and touched the screen.
“Hello.”
“Vera… Where are you?” Maksim sounded nervous. “Come back, please. We’ll talk without Mom. I understand everything now.”
“It’s too late, Maksim,” she replied calmly. “You said everything you needed to say when you slammed your fist on the table.”
“That was a mistake!” he hissed. “Listen, if you don’t come back… your share of the apartment might disappear.”
Vera went cold.
“What do you mean, ‘disappear’?” she asked in an icy voice.
“You know the apartment is registered in my name,” he snapped. “And if you start trying to claim your rights now, I… I’ll find a way to make sure you get nothing.”
Vera noticed her father tense.
He motioned for his daughter to remain silent and took the phone.
“Listen to me, Maksim,” he said in an even but hard voice. “If you touch a single document without her consent, you’ll be dealing with me and my lawyer. And he loves cases like this—stripping people like you down to their last thread.”
“Who the hell are you?” Maksim roared.
“The person who’s going to explain the law to you very soon. And for now…”
Vera’s father ended the call and put the phone down.
Vera covered her face with her hands.
“He’s right,” she whispered. “The apartment is in his name. I was stupid to trust him…”
“Shh.” Her father placed a hand on her shoulder. “This isn’t over yet. He’s rushing, and he’s going to make a mistake. And when he does, that’s how we’ll catch him.”
And indeed, the mistake came the very next day.
Suspecting that Maksim might act quickly, Vera’s father went to the apartment together with a lawyer.
Maksim and Larisa Petrovna were standing in the hallway, hurriedly sorting through papers.
Larisa whispered:
“We need to sign a fake deed of gift transferring it to me. Then that idiot won’t be able to prove anything!”
“You two have come up with quite a clever plan,” a cold voice sounded from the doorway. “But you forgot that what you’re proposing is a criminal offense.”
Maksim and his mother spun around.
Vera’s father stood in the doorway beside the lawyer, holding a switched-on voice recorder.
“Congratulations. We have a recording of an attempted fraud,” the lawyer said with a grin. “Would you like to settle this peacefully, or shall we call the police right now?”
Larisa turned pale.
Maksim stepped forward but immediately retreated when he met his father-in-law’s hard stare.
“That’s it, Dad. I want a divorce,” Vera said firmly, appearing from behind her father. “And we’re dividing everything according to the law.”
For the first time in his life, Maksim had no answer. He stood pressed against the wall, opening and closing his mouth like a fish thrown onto dry land.
Larisa Petrovna inhaled sharply and clutched the bundle of papers so tightly that they crumpled in her hands.
“A divorce?! You’ve decided to grab the apartment for yourself!” Maksim finally exploded. “Are you out of your mind? Who’s going to believe that you didn’t make all this up yourself just to leave me with nothing?”
“They will,” Vera’s father replied calmly. “We have a recording. We have witnesses. And we have a lawyer who loves high-profile cases.”
Larisa Petrovna sank into a chair with a quiet moan.
“Maksik, I was only trying to help us… So that we wouldn’t lose the apartment…”
Vera looked at her with cold pity.
“You weren’t doing it for ‘us,’ Larisa Petrovna. You were doing it for yourself. You were trying to push me out like an unwanted stain. And you know what? You almost succeeded.”
Maksim took a step toward Vera and reached out his hands, but she stepped back.
“Ver, come on, let’s talk like adults… I was wrong, but we can fix everything, can’t we? I… I loved you.”
“You loved convenience, Maksim,” she interrupted. “And Mommy’s meat patties, and your warm slippers. You didn’t love me.”
“I… I was only trying to do what was best for us…” He stumbled over his words and lowered his eyes.
“For us?” Vera reminded him. “You slammed your fist on the table. And you pretended not to hear your mother humiliating me in our own home.”
The lawyer’s voice broke the silence.
“I suggest drawing up a settlement agreement. It will make things easier for everyone.”
Maksim abruptly raised his head. His face was distorted by a mixture of fear and rage.
“No agreement! If she wants a war, she’ll get one!”
“Calm down, son…” Larisa Petrovna whispered. “They could send us to prison…”
“What?!” He turned on his mother. “You arranged all of this! You were the one who insisted on those documents!”
“Me?” Larisa Petrovna jumped to her feet. “If it weren’t for me, you’d already be out on the street, you idiot! I’ve spent my whole life rescuing you—from debts and from your women!”
“Enough!” Maksim roared. “That’s it! I’m sick of you too! You’re ruining my life, Mom!”
Larisa Petrovna turned pale.
Something new appeared in her eyes.
Fear.
Vera and her father exchanged glances.
“They’ll devour each other without our help,” her father whispered. “Let’s go.”
Vera nodded and left the apartment without looking back.
A week later, Maksim stood in the middle of the apartment, unable to understand what was happening.
Boxes filled with Larisa Petrovna’s belongings were piled near the entrance. She herself walked from room to room, checking whether she had forgotten anything important.
“Mom…” he breathed, dropping heavily onto the sofa. “How did it come to this? We planned everything…”
“But we didn’t account for her father.”
Larisa Petrovna stopped, turned toward her son, and for the first time in a long while looked at him without her usual contempt.
There was something new in her eyes—anxiety and fear.
“Maks, I… I can’t stay with you.”
“What?” He jerked his head up.
“They offered you a chance to settle this peacefully, and you refused. I received a summons,” she said almost in a whisper. “Because of that deed of gift… If this goes all the way, I could face criminal charges.”
“What are you talking about?” Panic crept into Maksim’s voice. “We checked everything!”
“Not we. I did,” Larisa replied coldly. “You never checked anything. You always assumed Mommy would take care of everything. But now Mommy can’t. They offered me a deal—if I testify, they’ll leave me alone.”
“What testimony?” Horror was now unmistakable in Maksim’s voice.
“Against you, son.”
Maksim leaped to his feet.
“You wouldn’t dare! I was protecting you! I did all of this for you…”
“And I’ve already done far too much for you,” Larisa interrupted. For the first time, her voice was firm. “But I’m not going to prison for you.”
She picked up her bag, cast him a quick glance, and walked toward the door.
“Mom! Mom, wait!” he shouted. “You’re going to leave me with nothing!”
“You’ll manage, Maksim. You always said you were the master of this house,” Larisa replied with weary irony.
Then she left, quietly closing the door behind her.
Maksim was alone.
The room that had recently been filled with arguments and drama now echoed with silence.
He pulled out his phone and looked at Vera’s latest messages.
Yesterday she had written:
“I never thought I could be this strong. Now we’re strangers to each other.”
He wanted to write something to her—to apologize, to beg her to return—but his fingers froze above the screen.
He understood that he had lost everything: his wife, his property, and even his mother, who had always been by his side.
Suddenly, someone knocked at the door.
Maksim rushed toward it hopefully, but a serious-looking man in a suit stood outside.
“Maksim Andreyevich? You failed to appear in court?” the man asked sternly. “Here is the order initiating the division-of-property proceedings. Please familiarize yourself with it.”
Maksim clenched his fists.
His chest tightened so badly that he could barely breathe.
But I was the master…
The words circled endlessly in his head.
Now he was alone.
Six months passed.
Vera sat beside the window of her new apartment with a cup of coffee in her hands.
A light spring rain was falling outside, but she was smiling. For the first time in many years, it was a smile of genuine ease, free from pain and anxiety.
The room still smelled of fresh paint. A rolled-up rug lay on the floor, and several flowerpots stood on the windowsill.
She had bought them herself.
She had chosen every shade for the walls and every detail of the interior herself.
This was her space.
Finally, truly hers.
Her phone rang.
Vera looked at the screen and saw her father’s name.
“Hi, Dad,” she said softly as she answered.
“Sweetheart, how are you doing over there? Settled in?” Her father’s voice was full of happiness.
“Yes. Thank you for helping me with the apartment. You know, I used to think I wouldn’t be able to manage without him. But now… it feels as though I’ve learned how to breathe all over again.”
Her father was silent for a moment.
“I always knew you were stronger than you thought,” he finally said. “And you know, this is only the beginning.”
Vera looked at her reflection in the window.
A calm gaze.
A faint smile.
Her father continued talking on the other end of the phone, but suddenly Vera became aware of an extraordinary sensation.
No one else’s shouting. No accusations.
No struggle to prove that she had a right to occupy her own place.
And that silence was the most precious luxury of all.
At that same moment, on the other side of the city, Maksim sat in a small rented apartment.
A packet of cheap pasta and an empty vodka bottle lay on the kitchen table.
He stared blankly ahead without blinking.
His phone had been silent for several days.
Not a single call from acquaintances or friends—and most importantly, none from his mother.
Larisa Petrovna had disappeared from his life as suddenly as she had always appeared in it.
After giving her testimony, she hurriedly sold her apartment and moved to another city to stay with a distant relative.
On her final evening, she had said only one thing:
“Don’t look for me, Maksim. I want to start over too.”
He had stood in the building entrance for a long time afterward, trying to believe that he really was alone.
At first, he thought Vera would return.
Then he placed his hopes in his mother.
But both women had left, and with them disappeared everything he had once considered his support.
Maksim switched on the television to drown out the silence.
The news was reporting increases in food prices and utility bills.
He ran a hand over the stubble on his face, absentmindedly thinking that tomorrow he would once again have to go to his second job in a warehouse that smelled of dampness and dirty rags.
“But I was the master…” he whispered to himself.
The words only made the bitterness worse.
He got up and walked to the window.
Outside, the same spring rain was falling that Vera could see from her apartment.
But for her, it represented a fresh beginning.
For him, it was merely a gray backdrop to an endless succession of identical days.
Maksim wiped his hand across the fogged-up glass and stared thoughtfully at the wet streets.
For the first time in all those months, he finally understood:
There was no one left for him to blame.