“Since you got the apartment, consider it luck for our whole family! So shut your mouth and live by our rules!” he spat in my face.
Olga was sitting in the kitchen, sorting through documents from the notary’s office. The apartment from Uncle Mikhail was a two-room place in a good neighborhood. Olga had not expected such an inheritance at all, since she had barely kept in touch with her uncle in recent years.
“Ol, are you still awake?” Sergei came into the kitchen, stretching after watching television.
“I’m looking over the documents,” Olga replied without raising her eyes.
Sergei came closer and peered over his wife’s shoulder. Olga noticed how her husband’s expression changed — something greedy, almost predatory, flashed in his eyes.
“Well, what luck!” Sergei exclaimed. “Now we have two whole apartments!”
Olga tensed at that “we.” The apartment had been left specifically to her, but she did not argue — she was tired after work.
The next day, just as Olga returned from work, the doorbell rang. Standing on the threshold was Tamara Ivanovna — her mother-in-law in person, holding a cake and a bottle of champagne.
“Olechka, dear!” Tamara Ivanovna hugged her daughter-in-law with an unusual warmth. “Seryozha told me about the inheritance. What happiness for our whole family!”
Olga inwardly shuddered at this fake affection. In six years of marriage, her mother-in-law had rarely called her by name, preferring to address her simply as “you.”
“Come in, Tamara Ivanovna,” Olga said, stepping aside to let her mother-in-law into the apartment.
Over tea, Tamara Ivanovna quickly got to the point.
“You know, I was thinking… Irina and little Maksim are so cramped in their one-room apartment. The boy is growing up, he’ll be starting school soon, and the poor thing doesn’t even have his own room. Maybe you could let them move into that apartment?”
Olga placed her cup on its saucer.
“Tamara Ivanovna, I haven’t decided yet what I’m going to do with the apartment. I may rent it out.”
Her mother-in-law frowned.
“Rent it out to strangers when your own people need help? Olechka, we’re family!”
At that moment, Sergei came home. Her husband immediately understood what the conversation was about and sat down beside his mother.
“Mom is right, Ol. Why let strangers pay when Irka could live there? And we don’t really need the extra income — you earn well enough.”
Olga felt irritation rising inside her. Her husband, who had been unemployed for the past six months after yet another dismissal, was talking about how they did not need money.
“Let’s discuss this later,” Olga tried to close the subject. “I need time to think.”
But Tamara Ivanovna had no intention of backing down. The following weeks turned into a real siege. Her mother-in-law called several times a day, Irina “accidentally” dropped by and complained about how cramped she was, and even five-year-old Maksim was brought into the campaign — the nephew, with sad eyes, asked Aunt Olya why he didn’t have his own room like other children.
Sergei took the position of silently supporting his mother. He did not pressure Olga openly, but he constantly sighed, shook his head, and hinted that Olga was acting selfishly.
After a month, Olga’s patience began to run out. Once again, they gathered for a family dinner — Tamara Ivanovna brought Sergei’s favorite pie, and Irina dragged Maksim along.
“Olya, we’ve been waiting for your decision for a month now,” Tamara Ivanovna began as soon as everyone sat down at the table. “Irina needs to plan the move. Maybe some repairs will be needed. You can’t drag this out like that!”
“I said I would think about it,” Olga answered wearily.
“What is there to think about?” Irina flared up. “You have two apartments, and my child and I are crammed into a one-room place! Do you even understand what that’s like?”
Olga looked at her sister-in-law. Irina had not worked for three years, living on her ex-husband’s alimony and her mother’s help.
“Irina, no one is forcing you to be cramped. You can find a job and rent a larger apartment.”
“Oh, so you think I should slave away while your apartment stands empty?” Irina raised her voice.
“It is not an empty apartment. It is my inheritance,” Olga said firmly.
“Which you got for free, out of pure luck!” Irina shouted.
Tamara Ivanovna placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, calming her, then turned to her daughter-in-law.
“Olechka, now you are obliged to think about your husband’s family. This is our shared good fortune, do you understand? The family must support one another.”
Olga turned her gaze to Sergei. Her husband sat staring into his plate, clearly not intending to stand up for his wife.
“Seryozh, what do you say?” Olga asked directly.
Her husband raised his eyes, and Olga saw irritation in them.
“Mom is right, Olya. Family is more important than anything. I don’t understand your stubbornness.”
Olga felt something snap inside her. The man she had married for love, the man she had lived with for six years, did not think it necessary to support his wife.
“I will decide for myself what to do with the apartment,” Olga said slowly, rising from the table. “And this is not up for discussion.”
“Sit down!” Seryozha suddenly barked, jumping to his feet. “Enough acting like you’re the mistress of life!”
Olga froze, stunned by her husband’s tone. Sergei had never raised his voice at her before.
“Since you got the apartment, consider it luck for our whole family!” Sergei spat, stepping right up to his wife. “So shut your mouth and live by our rules!”
Dead silence hung in the room. Even little Maksim pressed himself fearfully against his mother. Olga looked at her husband, not recognizing the person she had lived with for so many years.
Tamara Ivanovna was the first to recover.
“You see, Olya, my son is saying everything correctly! Family is more important than your whims. The apartment must be given to those who need it more. And there’s no need to be capricious!”
Olga slowly shifted her gaze from her mother-in-law to her husband, then to Irina. Her sister-in-law was sitting there with a satisfied smirk, anticipating victory.
An icy lump tightened in Olga’s chest, but along with the cold came crystal clarity. If she gave in now, she would lose not only the apartment — she would lose herself.
“This apartment is mine,” Olga said clearly, looking straight into her husband’s eyes. “I inherited it from my uncle. And I will decide for myself what to do with it. If anyone doesn’t like that, the door is open.”
“Are you kicking us out?” Irina shrieked.
“I am setting boundaries,” Olga replied calmly. “In my home, my decisions will be respected.”
“In your home?” Sergei smirked. “Don’t forget, I’m your husband!”
“A husband who just told me to shut up and live by someone else’s rules,” Olga countered. “You know what, Seryozha? I need to think not only about the apartment, but about our marriage too.”
Tamara Ivanovna jumped up.
“How dare you! Are you threatening my son? You should be thanking him on your knees for marrying you!”
“A man who has been sitting without work for six months and living off my salary?” Olga no longer held herself back. “A man who brings his relatives here to decide how I should manage my property?”
“Mom, Ira, let’s go,” Sergei took his mother by the arm. “There’s no point staying here. Let her sit alone in her apartments.”
When the door closed behind her husband’s relatives, Olga slowly sank onto a chair. Her hands trembled slightly from the tension, but inside there was a strange emptiness.
The phone rang an hour later. Sergei. Olga did not answer. Then messages began pouring in — first from her husband, demanding that she come to her senses, then from Tamara Ivanovna, filled with threats and insults.
Olga turned off the phone and went to the bedroom. On the bedside table stood a wedding photograph of her and Sergei. Young, happy, full of hope. Olga picked up the frame and laid the photo face down.
The next few days passed in a strange daze. Sergei did not come home; he stayed with his mother. Tamara Ivanovna called Olga at work, complained to acquaintances that her daughter-in-law had thrown her son out. Irina wrote angry messages on social media.
But for the first time, Olga felt an inner firmness. Her uncle’s inheritance had become a litmus test, revealing the true face of her husband’s family. And of her husband as well.
A week later, Sergei came back — rumpled, unshaven, with reddened eyes.
“Olya, let’s talk,” her husband asked from the doorway.
Olga silently let him into the apartment. Sergei went into the kitchen and sat down at the table — in his usual place.
“I lost my temper,” he began. “But you weren’t exactly innocent either. You could have met us halfway.”
“Halfway in what, Seryozh?” Olga asked calmly. “Giving your sister the apartment?”
“Not giving it to her — letting her live there. We’re family. We should help one another.”
Olga shook her head.
“Family means not only taking, but also giving. What has your family given me all these years, besides complaints and demands?”
Sergei was silent for a while, then said sharply:
“If you’re not ready to help my relatives, maybe we really should separate.”
Olga looked at her husband for a long moment.
“Maybe, Seryozha. Maybe.”
That evening, when her husband again left for his mother’s place, Olga sat by the window with a cup of tea. Outside, the lights of the evening city were coming on. Somewhere out there, in one of the districts, stood that very apartment from Uncle Mikhail. An apartment that had become not just an inheritance, but a test.
Olga thought about what would come next. About divorce, about living alone, about new possibilities. She was not afraid. On the contrary, for the first time in a long while, Olga felt that she was in control of her life.
The phone rang again — Tamara Ivanovna. Olga rejected the call and blocked the number. Then she opened her laptop and began searching for information about renting out an apartment.
Life went on, and Olga intended to live it by her own rules.