Tanya hated this conversation. It had been hanging in the air for a week, saturating the apartment with the smell of medicine and tobacco, even though Igor only smoked on the stairs.
The three-room, old-style apartment had been inherited by Tanya from her father. High ceilings, creaky parquet that her father had never allowed her to replace with laminate (“It’s oak, Tanya, eternal!”), and a view of the small park. To Igor, these walls were not memories, but capital. Frozen money.
— Understand, they’re just walls — he paced nervously in the kitchen, bumping the corner of the table with his hip. — But there, that’s where the real opportunities are. We invest in specialized machines, one year, and it pays for itself. Then we buy a house. Our own house, Tanya! Without tenants.
Tanya quietly washed the dishes. She had heard this “within a year” speech for the third time in four years. First it was stocks, then car parts trading. Now — leased excavators.— Igor, we don’t have money for a down payment. I won’t let you mortgage the apartment.
— Don’t you hear me! — he threw the towel to the floor. — I’ve already made a deal. People need guarantees.Then the door slammed. Nadezda Petrovna, the mother-in-law, entered with her own key — Igor had given it to her “just in case” six months ago. She walked into the kitchen without even taking off her coat. Her gaze was like a general before an attack.
— So, what’s the situation? — she asked, ignoring Tanya. — Did you convince her?Igor turned his gaze away.— She resists, Mom.Nadezda Petrovna sighed deeply, pulled out a chair, sat down, and placed her hands on the table as if giving orders.
— Tanya, sit down. We need a serious talk.Tanya stayed by the sink. The sound of water running drowned out the mumbling, and she didn’t want to stop it — at least that noise offered some protection.
— Igor urgently needs money — her voice was firm. — He’s in trouble… don’t ask me with what kind of people. You just need to know it must be paid.Tanya turned off the water. The silence almost hurt. Nadezda Petrovna spoke the number. Tanya’s fingers froze. It was half the price of a good apartment in a suburban district.
— Where did he get such a debt? — she whispered.— The business went bankrupt before it could even start — Igor mumbled, staring out the window. — I got scammed. It doesn’t matter. The point is, it must be paid.
— We found a buyer for your apartment — continued the mother-in-law. — For cash, immediately. No installment. We’ll pay off the debt, and with the rest, you’ll rent a place until Igor gets back on his feet.
Tanya looked at Igor. He seemed lost, ashamed, but fear of creditors was stronger than shame in front of his wife.— They want me to sell the only apartment I inherited from my father to cover Igor’s debts, which I didn’t even know about?
— And what did you expect? — Nadezda Petrovna snapped. — Family means everything is shared. Problems too. Or do you want my son stabbed?— I want him to think for himself, not rely on my apartment — Tanya shot back. — I’m not selling anything.
Igor suddenly turned. His face turned red.— You won’t sell? Then you don’t care? You don’t care if I get buried?— I don’t care, Igor. But I won’t be homeless because of your mistakes. Go to work, sell your car, take extra jobs.
— They already took the car! — he shouted. — You don’t understand…— You’re just selfish, son — the mother-in-law exhaled. — I’ve already said it. You cling to your own square meters.— Enough! — Igor stepped closer. — Either we sell your apartment, or divorce! I won’t live with a traitor.
Tanya watched calmly. As if seeing him for the first time. She remembered how he had courted her nicely, promising mountains. The mountains were made of paper, rotten inside. Nothing was attached to him, only emptiness and light remained.
— Fine — she said.— What do you mean “fine”? — Igor was confused.— Divorce.Igor was surprised. He hadn’t expected such calm agreement.Tanya went to the bedroom, took out a large suitcase, opened it, and began packing her clothes methodically.
— What are you doing? — Igor shouted. — Scaring me? You think I’m joking?— I’m not joking — she tossed jeans into the suitcase. — You set the condition. I accepted it. The apartment stays. You go.— Where should I go? — he yelled. — I don’t have a penny!
— To your mother’s — Tanya nodded toward the kitchen. — She says the family helps. Then let her help.— You have no right! — shouted the mother-in-law. — You’re registered here!— I’m not registered, — Tanya zipped up the suitcase.
— Not even temporarily. I didn’t register him until he had a normal job. My father said, “Don’t register the man until you see what he can do.”That hit. Nadezda Petrovna blushed.Twenty minutes later they left. Igor tried to take the TV, but Tanya reminded him she paid for it with her card, and the bills were among the documents.
He left, leaving a final kick to the cabinet, hissing: “Bitch.”Tanya closed the door. Her hands shook, but not from fear — from adrenaline. She knew this wasn’t the end.She didn’t wait. An hour later the locksmith arrived.
— Should we replace just the cylinder? — asked the man in work clothes.— The whole lock. The safest one.The morning didn’t start with coffee, but with insistent knocking. It was seven o’clock.
Tanya peeked through the peephole. The local police officer, Igor, and Nadezda Petrovna stood there. “The support team.”Tanya put on a robe and opened the door, keeping the chain on.— Petrovna? — asked the lieutenant. — There’s a report. Illegal eviction, prevention of use.
— One moment — Tanya closed the door, removed the chain, and stepped into the stairwell. She didn’t let them in.In her hand was a folder full of documents.— Here’s the ownership. Sole owner — me. Gift from my father. Here’s the list of registered persons. I am the only one registered. Mr. Petrov has no right to this apartment.
— But I’ve lived here for three years! — Igor shouted. Alcohol reeked from him. — My stuff is there!— In the suitcase you took yesterday — Tanya replied calmly. — If anything is missing, make a list, I’ll hand it to the concierge.
The officer skimmed through the papers. He wasn’t pleased to have to deal with this.— Mr. Petrov — he turned to Igor — no registration, no ownership share. On what basis should I let you in?— We’re family! — Nadezda Petrovna spoke up. — The marriage isn’t over!
— Marriage doesn’t grant rights to previous property — the lieutenant sighed. — If there’s a complaint, go to court. They can split spoons and forks there. I won’t let anyone break into another’s apartment.
He returned the documents.— Sorry for the disturbance. You, — he addressed Igor — if you cause trouble, the police will give you 15 days.— You… — Nadezda Petrovna choked with rage — Fine, stay alone! Cling to your own walls! Neither husband nor child will have such a character!
— But I’ll have a roof over my head — Tanya replied softly. — And no one else’s debts.Igor looked at her. Hatred and hope mixed in his gaze, wondering if she would change her mind.Tanya quietly closed the door. Two turns on the top lock. Three on the bottom. The night latch clicked.
Her back pressed against the door. On the stairs, she could still hear her mother-in-law’s voice explaining something to the officer, but it already sounded distant, belonging to another world.Tanya went to the kitchen. On the table was the dirty cup from last night.
She picked it up, pinching it between two fingers in disgust, and tossed it into the trash. The sound of breaking glass rang surprisingly cheerfully.She poured herself some water. Her hands no longer shook. The apartment was quiet. This wasn’t the frightening silence of loneliness, but the blessed one of safety.
She knew there would still be courts. There would be attempts due to renovations, calls from unknown numbers, family gossip. But the worst was already behind her. She hadn’t betrayed her father’s memory. And, more importantly — she hadn’t betrayed herself.
