Anton was trying to persuade his wife, Marina, to take in his recently divorced brother, Igor.
“You understand, don’t you? He’s in a really… difficult situation right now,” he said.
“I understand. He got divorced. He didn’t die,” Marina replied sharply. “Do you even realize what you’re asking me?”
Anton tried to pressure her with pity, mentioning his anxious mother and her unstable blood pressure, but Marina remained firm. She reminded him that the apartment was hers, bought before the marriage, and that she had no intention of turning it into a “storage unit for family failures” or a hostel for his relatives. The conversation ended without a resolution, and tension settled heavily over their relationship.
After a week of even, icy silence, Marina came home and found a suitcase in the hallway. Anton had let Igor move in without warning and without her consent.
“This is Igor. He’ll… stay here for a little while,” Anton said casually.
Igor himself came out of the room, wearing sweatpants and a sleeveless undershirt.
“Hi, Marina,” he said, holding out his hand.
Marina was furious. She turned to Anton.
“Are you serious? He’s living here. Already. Without a conversation. Without warning.”
“Don’t start,” Anton snapped. “He’s my brother. What, are you sorry to help him? We’re family!”
“No, Anton. ‘We’ means you and me. And if you’re with him, then live together. Somewhere else, just not in my home,” she cut him off, reminding him that the apartment belonged to her.
“And where were you when I was putting up the wallpaper? When we were carrying this furniture?” he protested.
Igor stayed. He behaved as if he owned the place: he ate her food, used her things, and occupied the bathroom for long stretches of time. Marina felt as if her home, her fortress, had turned into a shelter for a stranger.
The final straw was the arrival of her mother-in-law, Galina Petrovna. She entered without an invitation and immediately began scolding Marina from the doorway.
“We have tolerated this long enough, Marina,” she declared. “Igor has real problems. And you… you simply have whims. If you have the ability to help, then you are obligated to help.”
With those words, she placed some documents concerning the apartment on the table. It was a plan to arrange temporary registration for Igor. Marina realized this was a planned “hostile takeover.” She looked at Anton.
“You knew?”
“I… thought we would discuss it. Mom suggested it. I just wanted to do what was best,” he mumbled.
“He is his brother!” her mother-in-law interrupted. “And you are selfish! No children, no proper family! In reality, you are a cold, alien woman!”
Suddenly, Marina laughed.
“There. Finally, you said it out loud. That I am a stranger to you. And you know what? The feeling is mutual.”
She took the papers and slowly, demonstratively tore them into tiny pieces. Then she silently went into the bedroom, pulled out Igor’s suitcase, and began packing his things into it.
“Are you serious?” Igor asked.
“A week has passed. Checkout is at noon,” she replied coldly.
Anton realized he had lost.
“You’re leaving me no choice…”
“You gave it up yourself. When you decided I wasn’t a person, but a resource.”
Galina Petrovna and Igor left. Ten minutes later, Anton came out with a backpack over his shoulder.
“I’ll… go for now. To them. I need to think.”
“Then think. On your own. Without interpreters,” Marina replied.
Left alone, she did not cry. She made herself a good cup of black coffee and, for the first time in a long while, felt at home.
In her own home.
Not alone — but with herself.
And that was enough.