“You’ll give me the apartment, won’t you? You’re obligated to help your mother-in-law!” my husband’s mother kept pestering me
Ksenia stood by the stove, stirring borscht, when someone knocked on the door. A familiar knock. Measured. Persistent. Tamara Petrovna always knocked exactly like that.
“Is Vladik home?” her mother-in-law asked, walking into the hallway without even waiting to be invited.
“He’s still at work. He’ll be back in an hour.”
“Cooking something inedible again?” the woman said, heading straight for the kitchen. “Let’s see what my son has to eat.”
Tamara Petrovna lifted the lid from the pot. Her face twisted into its usual expression of displeasure.
“And what is this supposed to be? Borscht?” She picked up a spoon and tasted it. “Completely tasteless. Too much cabbage, and I can’t even see any meat.”
Ksenia pressed her lips together. Every visit from her mother-in-law turned into a test of endurance.
“There is meat. I just cut it into small pieces,” she replied, trying to remain calm.
“What meat?” Tamara Petrovna put down the spoon. “My son is used to proper food. And you feed him God knows what.”
The woman went into the living room. Ksenia watched her go and returned to the stove. The borscht had turned out well. Vladimir always praised her cooking. But whenever his mother was around, he kept silent.
“Ksenia!” a voice called from the living room. “Come here!”
Reluctantly, Ksenia went to her mother-in-law. Tamara Petrovna was standing in the middle of the room, examining the furniture.
“When was the last time you dusted?” Tamara Petrovna ran a finger across the dresser. “Look at this dirt!”
“I cleaned yesterday.” Ksenia approached the dresser and checked it. There wasn’t any dust.
“Don’t lie to me!” her mother-in-law shook her head. “It’s obvious you don’t take care of the house. And your dress is wrinkled. Couldn’t you iron it?”
Ksenia looked down at her dress. She had ironed it that morning.
“Tamara Petrovna, I always…”
“Don’t make excuses!” the woman raised her hand. “Better look at yourself in the mirror. Your hair is sticking out everywhere. Your makeup is smeared.”
Ksenia went to the mirror. Her hairstyle was neat. Her makeup was fine too.
At that moment, the front door opened. Vladimir had returned from work.
“Mom!” He hugged Tamara Petrovna. “How are you?”
“I’m just seeing how my son is living,” she said with a smile. “I worry about you.”
Vladimir glanced at Ksenia. There was exhaustion in his eyes. And indifference.
“Let’s have dinner,” he said, heading toward the kitchen.
At the table, Tamara Petrovna continued making comments.
“Vladik, you’ve lost weight,” she said, stroking her son’s hand. “They probably don’t feed you properly at home.”
“Mom, everything’s fine,” Vlad said, taking a sip of borscht.
“How is it fine?” his mother exclaimed. “Look at this borscht. How can anyone eat this?”
Ksenia lowered her eyes to her plate. She wanted to get up and leave. But this was her apartment too.
“The borscht is good,” Vladimir said quietly.
“You’re only saying that because you feel sorry for your wife,” Tamara Petrovna shook her head. “I’m worried about your health.”
Not long afterward, Ksenia received a call from a notary’s office. Her grandmother, Anna Ivanovna, had passed away. According to the will, Ksenia inherited a two-room apartment in the city center.
The news of the inheritance instantly changed Tamara Petrovna’s behavior. She appeared at their door carrying a box of pastries.
“Ksyushenka!” her mother-in-law beamed. “You look wonderful today! You’re absolutely glowing!”
Confused, Ksenia accepted the box.
“Thank you, Tamara Petrovna.”
“Oh, it’s nothing!” the woman said, walking into the kitchen. “You’re an heiress now! Tell me more about the apartment. What neighborhood is it in? How big is it?”
“It’s downtown. Sixty square meters,” Ksenia replied, placing the pastries on the table.
“Wonderful!” her mother-in-law clapped her hands. “Have you received the documents yet? Show me what they say!”
Ksenia hesitated. Tamara Petrovna’s sudden interest seemed strange.
“Not everything is ready yet,” Ksenia answered cautiously. “The notary said the paperwork will be finalized in a month.”
“Of course, of course!” the woman nodded eagerly. “The main thing is that everything is done legally.”
Over the next several weeks, Tamara Petrovna began appearing almost every day. Every visit turned into a theatrical performance.
“Ksyushenka, look at my test results,” her mother-in-law said, spreading medical documents across the kitchen table. “The doctor says everything is terrible.”
Ksenia glanced at the papers. They looked like fairly ordinary results for a seventy-year-old woman.
“Tamara Petrovna, there doesn’t seem to be anything serious here…”
“What do you mean, nothing serious?” the woman exclaimed. “You’re not a doctor! My blood pressure is constantly jumping.”
Tamara Petrovna pulled an enormous pile of medication from her handbag and began counting the pills while sighing dramatically.
“I take ten pills a day,” she said, shaking her head. “And I can barely walk anyway.”
Ksenia silently watched the performance. Just a week earlier, her mother-in-law had been running up the stairs faster than younger people.
“And my communal apartment is so damp!” Tamara Petrovna suddenly coughed. “The walls are wet, the ceiling leaks. I’m afraid I won’t survive the winter under those conditions.”
“Maybe Vladimir could help you with the repairs?” Ksenia suggested.
“Of course he’ll help!” her mother-in-law immediately brightened. “My son is wonderful. But repairs cost money.”
That very evening, Vladimir made an announcement.
“We need to help Mom with housing,” he said, sitting on the sofa and avoiding his wife’s eyes. “Things have gotten really bad there.”
“Vlad, we just bought her a new refrigerator,” Ksenia said, sitting beside him. “And last week we replaced her television.”
“Those are small things,” her husband waved his hand. “We’re talking about my mother’s health.”
Ksenia looked at him. There was a strange determination in his voice.
“And what are you suggesting?”
“We need to sit down together,” Vladimir said, getting up and beginning to pace the room. “Talk everything through.”
The following morning, Tamara Petrovna arrived early. She sat at the kitchen table and spread out her medical papers.
“Vladik, tell your wife about our conversation,” she said sternly, looking at her son.
Vladimir cleared his throat and sat across from Ksenia.
“Mom is right. She needs decent living conditions,” he said quietly but firmly.
So that was what all of this had been leading to.
“Vlad, this is too much,” Ksenia said, trying to keep her voice calm.
“But we’re family!” Tamara Petrovna leaned forward. “I worked my entire life and raised my son. I deserve a peaceful old age.”
“Tamara Petrovna, nobody is denying what you’ve done…”
“Then what’s the problem?” her mother-in-law interrupted her. “Vladik, explain it to your wife!”
Vladimir remained silent, staring at the floor. Ksenia waited for her husband to say at least one word in her defense. But he continued to say nothing.
“Mom needs to move,” Vlad finally said. “It’s the right thing to do.”
“Move in with us?” Ksenia asked, unable to believe what she was hearing. “Into our one-room apartment?”
“Not with you,” Tamara Petrovna smiled. “Into the new apartment.”
Ksenia managed only a quiet response.
“I need to think about it.”
A week later, her mother-in-law appeared carrying a folder of documents. Her face radiated triumph.
“Ksyushenka, I found everything out!” she exclaimed, sitting down at the table and pulling a printout from the folder. “Here’s a sample gift deed. It’s very easy to arrange.”
Ksenia took the paper. It was an ordinary template printed from the Internet.
“You’ll give me the apartment, won’t you?” Tamara Petrovna waved the sheet of paper. “You’re obligated to help your mother-in-law!”
The woman stood and began pacing around the kitchen.
“I’ve already found a notary who will handle the transaction!” her mother-in-law continued, raising her voice. “We can go tomorrow!”
Ksenia stared at the printout. Her hands were trembling.
“No,” Ksenia said firmly. “I’m not giving you the apartment.”
Tamara Petrovna froze. Her face twisted with anger.
“What do you mean, no?” she shouted. “You have to help me!”
“I don’t owe you anything,” Ksenia said, rising from the table. “This is my inheritance.”
“Vladik!” Tamara Petrovna turned toward her son. “Do you hear what your wife is saying?”
Vladimir raised his head. There was confusion in his eyes, along with a strange sense of resignation.
“Ksyusha, Mom is right,” he said uncertainly. “You have to respect your elders.”
“Your elders?” Ksenia could hardly believe what she was hearing. “And who is going to respect me?”
Suddenly Tamara Petrovna collapsed into a chair and began sobbing loudly.
“See what you’ve done to me!” she cried, smearing tears across her cheeks.
“Tamara Petrovna, stop the performance,” Ksenia said wearily, shaking her head.
“What performance?” her mother-in-law jumped up from the chair. “I’m suffocating in that communal apartment while you’re selfishly holding onto your inheritance!”
Vladimir approached his mother and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“Stop crying, Mom,” he said, patting her back. “Ksenia, you can see what condition my mother is in.”
“I can,” Ksenia replied, crossing her arms. “She’s putting on quite a performance.”
“Putting on a performance?” Vladimir spun toward his wife. “Have you completely lost your conscience?”
“You’re the one who’s lost his conscience!” Ksenia could no longer hold herself back. “We’ve been married for five years, and not once have you stood up for me!”
“Fine.” Her husband straightened and looked at Ksenia coldly. “Then choose. Either you sign the apartment over to Mom as a gift, or I file for divorce.”
Ksenia looked at her husband. The man she had loved suddenly seemed like a complete stranger.
“File for divorce,” she said quietly. “I’m not putting up with this abuse anymore.”
Tamara Petrovna immediately stopped crying. She stared at her daughter-in-law with open hatred.
“You’ll regret this!” her mother-in-law hissed. “You’ll end up without a family!”
“I will,” Ksenia said, walking toward the bedroom to pack her belongings. “But at least I’ll still have my apartment.”
An hour later, Ksenia left the home carrying two bags. Vladimir didn’t even come outside to see her off.
The first thing Ksenia did after moving into her new apartment was change the locks. Vladimir called every day.
“Come back home,” he demanded over the phone. “Stop being so stubborn!”
“My home is here now,” Ksenia replied calmly. “And you’ll be receiving the divorce papers soon.”
“You’re seriously going through with the divorce?” Vladimir’s voice trembled with anger.
“Completely seriously,” Ksenia said before hanging up.
The court proceedings lasted four months. Vladimir tried to prove that he had invested more money in their one-room apartment. Ksenia provided all her income statements and receipts for the renovations.
The court divided their marital property equally. Ksenia received half the value of the one-room apartment in cash.
With that money, Ksenia completely renovated her inherited apartment. She knocked down the partition between the kitchen and living room, installed new plumbing, and bought beautiful furniture.
Tamara Petrovna came to the building several times. She stood outside the entrance and tried to get inside. Ksenia could see her through the window but never opened the door.
Six months later, Ksenia held a housewarming party. Her colleagues and old university friends came to celebrate.
“It’s beautiful!” Lena, her former neighbor, exclaimed. “And you look so happy now!”
Ksenia smiled as she poured tea into the cups. Outside the window, the first snow was falling. The apartment was warm and cozy.
For the first time in many years, Ksenia was genuinely happy with her life.