“Why Is Your Wife Acting Like the Mistress of the House? Is This Even Her Apartment?” the Mother-in-Law and Sister-in-Law Complained
“Lizochka, where are you? We’re already here!”
Liza froze in the doorway of her own apartment, keys still in her hand. Her mother-in-law’s voice came from the kitchen — cheerful, loud, and completely at ease, as if she owned the place. Liza slowly took off her shoes and walked down the hallway.
Sitting at her table were Vera Romanovna and her sister-in-law, Lena. Cups stood in front of them, and on a plate lay cookies taken from Liza’s cupboard. Lyosha was fussing by the stove, heating the kettle.
“Hello,” Liza said, trying to keep her voice even. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Lyoshenka gave us the keys,” Vera Romanovna smiled. “I told him I wanted to bring you my special semolina cake. There it is, on the windowsill. But you weren’t home, so we decided to wait.”
Liza looked at her husband. He shrugged guiltily.
“Mom asked yesterday. I didn’t think it would be a problem.”
“What problem?” Lena stretched out her legs and crossed one over the other. “Liza, relax. We’re not strangers.”
Liza went into the kitchen and poured herself water from the jug. Her hands trembled slightly, and she gripped the glass tightly.
In her apartment.
In her own apartment — the one she had bought three years ago when she worked twelve-hour shifts at a travel agency and saved every single ruble. Long before she had even met Lyosha.
“You look pale,” Vera Romanovna said, studying her with an assessing glance. “Working too much? Does a travel agency even have clients nowadays? There’s a crisis.”
“We do,” Liza said, placing the glass in the sink. “Everything is fine.”
“And the sofa is badly placed,” her mother-in-law continued, looking around the room. “It should be moved closer to the window. There would be more light that way. And the refrigerator is very old. Lyosh, didn’t you say you wanted to buy a new one?”
Lyosha nodded without lifting his eyes.
“Well, yes, we were thinking maybe someday…”
“That’s right,” Lena said, taking a sip from her cup. “In our family, everything has always been orderly. Mom makes sure everything is proper.”
Liza sat down on the chair across from them. Vera Romanovna handed her a plate with the cake.
“Try it. I made it specially for you. Lyoshenka has always loved my semolina cake.”
“Thank you,” Liza said and broke off a small piece. The cake really was delicious, but the lump in her throat made it hard to swallow.
“In general, there’s a lot that could be redone here,” her mother-in-law went on. “Look at these dull wallpapers. I would choose something lighter. And the kitchen could use renovation too. Lyosh, show me later where you keep the tools.”
“Mom, maybe not now?” Lyosha finally raised his eyes.
“Oh, I’m just saying,” Vera Romanovna waved him off. “I only want to help. You’re young. You need advice.”
Lena smirked.
“Liza, why are you so tense? Mom only wants what’s best.”
After they left, Liza closed the door and leaned back against it. Lyosha came out of the room, smiling apologetically.
“Don’t be mad. Mom just wanted to treat us. She brought a cake.”
“Lyosha,” Liza straightened up. “You gave them keys to my apartment. Without asking me.”
“Our apartment,” he corrected her. “We’re married. Or am I misunderstanding something?”
“You understand,” Liza said, walking into the kitchen and beginning to clear the table. “But that doesn’t mean your mother can come here whenever she wants.”
“Oh my God, why are you making a mountain out of a molehill?” Lyosha ran a hand through his hair in irritation. “Is my mother some stranger to you? She’s not a villain. She just wanted to help.”
Liza silently placed the dishes in the sink. She did not want to argue. And what was there to say? Lyosha would not understand anyway. For him, his mother was sacred. And she, Liza, was supposed to be grateful for the attention.
That evening, she called Olga. Her friend understood the situation immediately.
“Wait, they just came in and sat in your apartment? Without you?”
“Lyosha gave them the keys,” Liza said, lying on the sofa with her legs over the armrest. “He says he doesn’t see the problem.”
“Liza, did you tell him about the documents? That the apartment is registered in your name?”
“Well… not exactly directly,” Liza admitted. “From the beginning, he told everyone it was his apartment. I didn’t correct him. I thought, why humiliate him in front of his family?”
“That’s exactly it,” Olga sighed. “You gave in once. Now they think they have the right to act like owners. Listen, talk to him seriously. Now. Before it gets worse.”
But the conversation never happened. Lyosha went to take a shower, then sat down to watch the news, yawning and flipping through channels. Liza did not insist. She decided they would talk tomorrow. Tomorrow they would calmly discuss everything.
Only tomorrow never came.
A week later, Liza came home from work early — she had managed to close all her requests by lunchtime. In the entrance hall, she ran into her neighbor, Tamara Lvovna. The elderly woman was holding a bag of groceries and nodded kindly.
“Hello, Lizochka. How are you?”
“I’m fine, Tamara Lvovna,” Liza said, holding the elevator door.
“Listen, do your relatives visit often?” the neighbor leaned closer conspiratorially. “This is already the third time this week I’ve seen that lady opening your door with keys. Tall woman, dark hair.”
“My mother-in-law,” Liza answered briefly.
“Ah,” Tamara Lvovna nodded knowingly. “I had one of those too, may she rest in peace. Stay strong, dear. If anything happens, knock on my door. I’m always home.”
Liza got out on her floor. The apartment door was slightly open. Voices and the sound of a working drill came from inside.
She stepped in and froze.
In the living room, Lyosha stood on a stepladder with a drill. Vera Romanovna was commanding from below, pointing exactly where he should drill. Lena was unpacking a large bag, pulling out… new fabric blinds.
“Liza!” her mother-in-law turned around with a smile. “There you are. We decided to surprise you. See how beautiful they are? Beige, to match the wallpaper. Your old ones were completely faded.”
“Hello,” Liza said slowly, taking off her jacket. “But did I… ask for this?”
“Oh, don’t be like that, dear,” Vera Romanovna waved her off. “It’s a gift! Lena saw them yesterday in the store. There was such a good discount. We immediately thought of you.”
Lena unfolded the fabric, showing it off.
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they? I have the same ones at home. Very practical.”
Lyosha climbed down from the stepladder.
“Liza, don’t stand in the doorway. Better go to the store and buy something for dinner. We can’t leave guests without food.”
Liza looked at him. He was smiling, completely unaware of what was happening. To him, this was normal — his mother and sister had come, brought something, and were changing things in the apartment.
His apartment, as he apparently believed.
“All right,” she said quietly. “I’ll go.”
She went outside and almost ran to the nearest store. She needed air. She needed to calm down. Olga’s voice echoed in her head: “You gave in once.”
Yes, she had. And now what? Start a scandal? Kick out her mother-in-law and sister-in-law? And Lyosha? Would he take her side?
Hardly.
When she returned with the bags, the apartment smelled of something delicious. Vera Romanovna was already busy in the kitchen, frying something in a pan. Lena was setting the table.
“Wonderful,” her mother-in-law said, taking the bag from Liza. “Is there sour cream? Excellent. Sit down, I’ll finish everything in a moment.”
Dinner passed in a strange atmosphere. Vera Romanovna talked about her job at school, Lena complained about clients at the salon, Lyosha laughed and agreed with them. Liza sat silently, answering questions only from time to time.
“You’re awfully quiet, Lizochka,” her mother-in-law finally noticed. “You’re probably tired. Never mind, go to bed early. We’ll sit here a bit longer. I’ll tell Lyosha about our second cousin Uncle Pyotr. Just the other day…”
Liza stood up from the table.
“Excuse me, I have to get up early tomorrow. Good night.”
She went into the bedroom and closed the door. She sat on the bed, hugging her knees. Voices drifted from the kitchen — Vera Romanovna telling some story, Lyosha laughing, Lena adding comments.
A family of their own.
And she… she was just a person living here. With the rights of a daughter-in-law.
Lyosha came in an hour later. He sat beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Why are you offended? Mom tried. She wanted to help.”
“Lyosha, this is my apartment,” Liza said quietly. “And I didn’t ask anyone to change anything.”
“Our apartment,” he corrected her, already irritated. “Or are you going to keep reminding me of that? Like I’m living here on sufferance?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you think it,” Lyosha stood up. “You know, I’m tired of this. Mom is trying to help us, and you turn your nose up. Ungrateful.”
He went into the bathroom and slammed the door.
Liza lay down and pulled the blanket up to her chin. She did not want to sleep. Images flashed before her eyes: how she had saved for this apartment, how happy she had been when she received the keys, how she had arranged every corner.
Her own.
Her first home of her own.
And now…
The next day, she stayed at work until late. When she came home, Lyosha was not there. A note on the refrigerator said he was at his parents’ place.
Liza walked through the rooms. The new blinds really did look decent, but they were not her blinds. She had not chosen them.
On Friday, the same thing happened again. Liza came home and found Vera Romanovna in the kitchen. Her mother-in-law was reorganizing the cabinets.
“Oh, Lizochka!” she turned around. “I decided to put things in order here. See what a mess it is? The grains are all mixed up, the jars aren’t labeled. I’ll transfer everything properly now.”
“Vera Romanovna,” Liza tried to speak calmly. “I don’t need help. I know where everything is.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, dear,” her mother-in-law did not even stop. “It’s a small thing. Once I’m done, you’ll see how convenient it is. Lyosha has been complaining for a long time that everything here is all over the place.”
“Lyosha complained?” Liza repeated.
“Of course. He’s a boy. He isn’t used to disorder. Our house has always been perfectly clean.”
Liza turned around and left the kitchen. She took out her phone and dialed Lyosha’s number. He did not answer right away.
“Yes, I’m listening.”
“Your mother is here. Again. She’s reorganizing the cabinets.”
“So what?” His voice was indifferent. “Let her help if she wants to.”
“Lyosha, I don’t want her help!”
“Liza, stop throwing a tantrum,” he raised his voice. “Do you even understand how ugly you’re behaving? My mother is trying for your sake, and you…”
“For my sake?” Liza felt something snap inside her. “She doesn’t even ask whether I need it!”
“Because it’s obvious you do!” Lyosha barked. “Everything here is always somehow careless. I just kept quiet because I didn’t want to hurt you. Mom saw it and decided to help. That’s a normal reaction from a normal person!”
Liza muted the phone and put it down. Her hands were shaking. She went into the bedroom and locked the door. Vera Romanovna continued moving things around in the kitchen. The clinking of dishes could be heard.
Half an hour later, there was a knock on the door.
“Lizochka, I’m done! Come and see how beautiful it turned out!”
Liza did not answer.
Ten minutes later, the front door slammed. Her mother-in-law had left.
Liza went into the kitchen. Indeed, everything had been rearranged. The grains stood by size, the jars were turned label-forward, the plates were stacked by color. Other people’s hands had created someone else’s order in her home.
On Saturday, Liza’s parents came over. Boris Petrovich immediately noticed the changes.
“What are those new things on the windows? You said you liked them the way they were.”
Liza told them everything. Her father listened silently, his face growing harder. Her mother, Svetlana Ivanovna, shook her head.
“Sweetheart, you should have set boundaries from the beginning.”
“What boundaries?” Boris Petrovich stood up. “Liza, bring the purchase agreement. Right now.”
Liza took a folder with documents from the cabinet. Her father spread the papers on the table, tracing the lines with his finger.
“Look. The apartment was bought in your name. March eighth, two thousand twenty-two. A year before your wedding. There is no prenuptial agreement. That means, by law, it is your personal property, not jointly acquired marital property. Does Lyosha know this?”
“I thought he understood,” Liza said. “But he tells everyone the apartment is his.”
“I see,” her father said, folding the papers back. “And you stay silent and endure it. Liza, you are an adult woman. Why do you let them wipe their feet on you?”
“Dad, I didn’t want to hurt him…”
“Hurt him?” Boris Petrovich gave a bitter laugh. “And is he hurting you? Bringing his mother here so she can command your home as if it were hers? Listen, I’m not leaving this alone. Where is Lyosha?”
“At his parents’ place,” Liza clasped her hands. “Dad, please don’t make a scandal. I’ll handle it myself.”
“When?” Svetlana Ivanovna took her daughter’s hand. “Lizochka, I understand that you love him. But love is not humiliation. If he doesn’t respect your space now, what will happen later?”
They sat together until evening. They talked about different things — work, neighbors, summer plans. But the heaviness in Liza’s chest did not go away.
Her parents were right. She had driven herself into a corner by not wanting to offend her husband. And now what? How could she get out of it?
On Monday, the final straw came.
Liza returned from work and could not open the door. The key turned, but the lock jammed. She pulled the handle several times, but nothing happened.
She called Lyosha.
“Our lock is broken. I can’t get inside.”
“Really?” he sounded surprised. “Strange. Mom called today and said she had called a locksmith. The lock was old, so she decided to replace it.”
“She did what?” Liza felt everything boil inside her.
“Well, she replaced the lock. She said the old one worked badly. She’ll come now and bring the new keys.”
“Lyosha,” Liza gripped the phone so tightly her knuckles turned white. “This is my apartment. And no one has the right to change locks here without my consent!”
“Liza, stop it,” he was already getting annoyed. “What do you mean, yours? Drop that already. We’re husband and wife, or am I misunderstanding something?”
“You don’t understand anything,” Liza heard her voice break. “Nothing!”
She hung up.
She stood in front of the door to her own apartment — the apartment she could not enter because her mother-in-law had decided to change the lock without asking. In Liza’s apartment.
Twenty minutes later, Vera Romanovna appeared. She walked confidently, holding keys in her hand.
“Lizochka, here! The new keys. See how shiny they are? The locksmith was good. He did everything in half an hour.”
“Vera Romanovna,” Liza said, taking the keys. “You had no right.”
“What?” her mother-in-law frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“You had no right to change the lock in my apartment.”
“In what apartment of yours?” Vera Romanovna straightened up. “Liza, what are you even talking about? This is my son’s apartment. He lives here. He is the owner. And I am his mother. I have every right to help him arrange his home.”
“This is not his apartment,” Liza said calmly. “It is registered in my name. I bought it before our wedding.”
Vera Romanovna froze. She looked at Liza as if Liza had suddenly started speaking Chinese.
“What nonsense are you saying? Lyosha himself said this was his apartment!”
“Lyosha did not tell the truth.”
“You…” her mother-in-law pressed her lips together. “You deceived us? Pretended?”
“I deceived no one,” Liza said, opening the door with the new key. “I simply did not correct your son when he presented the apartment as his. Now I see that was a mistake.”
Vera Romanovna turned and left without even saying goodbye.
Liza entered the apartment and closed the door behind her. The new lock clicked softly and clearly.
That evening, the whole family descended upon them.
Lyosha entered first, his face red, his eyes angry. Behind him came Vera Romanovna and Lena with her husband Igor. Vera Romanovna had furniture catalogs and wallpaper samples in her hands.
“Sit down,” Vera Romanovna pointed at a chair. “We need to talk.”
“I am at home,” Liza remained standing. “I can stand if I want.”
“Liza, don’t start,” Lyosha stepped forward. “Mom wants to discuss the renovation. We decided to surprise you.”
“What renovation?” Liza looked at him.
“Well,” Vera Romanovna opened a catalog. “I chose wallpaper and new furniture. Lyosha has already arranged with workers. They’ll start on Wednesday. You’ll move to my place temporarily.”
“No,” Liza said.
“What do you mean, no?” Lena leaned forward.
“There will be no renovation.”
“And why is that?” Vera Romanovna raised her voice. “Lyosha is the owner here. He has decided!” She turned to her son. “Why is your wife acting like the mistress of the house? Is this even her apartment?”
“Lyosha is not the owner,” Liza said.
She slowly went to the cabinet and took out the folder with documents.
“This apartment belongs to me. It was bought with my money on March eighth, two thousand twenty-two. A year before our wedding.”
She placed the purchase agreement on the table. Vera Romanovna snatched up the papers and quickly ran her eyes over the lines. Her face turned pale, then flushed red.
“Lyosha! Did you know about this?”
Lyosha shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other.
“Well… I thought… we’re married, so everything is shared…”
“Shared?” Lena came over and grabbed the agreement from her mother’s hands. “So she’s just using you! You live on her territory like… like some dependent!”
“Lena, let’s go,” Igor quietly touched his wife’s elbow. “This isn’t our business.”
“How is it not our business?” Lena brushed him off. “My brother…”
“Your brother is a grown man,” Igor raised his voice. “And it’s time he handled things himself.”
Vera Romanovna slowly stood up. Her face was stone-like.
“I always said you were not from our circle. You deceived us. You pretended.”
“I deceived no one,” Liza met her gaze. “Your son told everyone himself that the apartment was his. I didn’t correct him because I didn’t want to humiliate him in front of his family.”
“Humiliate him?” Vera Romanovna put on her coat. “Lyosha, get ready. You’re coming with me. You will not live here out of pity.”
Lyosha looked helplessly from his mother to his wife. He said nothing.
“Are you staying?” Vera Romanovna asked quietly and dangerously.
He lowered his head.
“Mom, I…”
“I see,” his mother said and headed for the door. “Lena, let’s go. Let them enjoy themselves.”
Lena dramatically threw the keys onto the table with a ringing sound.
“Here. Take your keys. And your apartment. Congratulations.”
Before leaving, Igor turned around and nodded awkwardly.
“I’m sorry for all of this.”
The door slammed shut.
Liza and Lyosha were left alone. The silence pressed down on them. Lyosha was the first to break it.
“Did you arrange this circus on purpose? You humiliated me in front of my whole family!”
“I protected my rights,” Liza picked up the keys from the table. “And you lied to your mother yourself. Why did you say the apartment was yours?”
“Because…” he faltered. “Because that’s how it should be! A man should be the owner!”
“The owner of someone else’s apartment?”
“You’re my wife! That means everything is shared!”
“Not legally,” Liza said tiredly, sitting on the sofa. “This is my personal property. It was bought before marriage.”
Lyosha paced around the room.
“So now what? You think I should pay you for living here? Like a tenant?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you mean it!” he turned toward her. “You know what? Mom is right. I won’t live here like a hanger-on!”
He went into the bedroom and slammed the door loudly.
Liza sat still, staring at one point.
Had she done the right thing? Or should she have stayed silent and endured it, like always?
For three days, they barely spoke. Lyosha came home late and left early. In the evenings, he spent hours on the phone — judging by his tone, with his mother or sister. Liza did not interfere. She gave him time to think.
On the fourth day, she returned from work and found him in the bedroom with a bag. He was packing his things.
“You’re leaving?” Liza stopped in the doorway.
Lyosha nodded without lifting his eyes.
“Yes. Mom is right. I can’t live in your apartment. It’s… humiliating.”
“I understand,” Liza leaned against the doorframe. “I won’t stop you.”
“Exactly,” he zipped the bag. “You don’t care.”
“Lyosha, I do care. But I will not apologize for protecting my home.”
He walked past her without answering.
A minute later, the front door slammed.
Liza went to the window and watched him get into the car and drive away.
Olga rushed over an hour after Liza called. She brought pizza and juice.
“Tell me everything from the beginning.”
Liza told her everything. Her friend listened and nodded.
“And how do you feel?”
“Strange,” Liza looked around the apartment. “It seems like I did the right thing. But why do I feel so awful?”
“Because you love him,” Olga took her hand. “Liza, serious question. Is he really the person you want to spend your life with? He can’t say a word against his mother. He lied about the apartment. And when the truth came out, he got offended at you instead of apologizing.”
“I don’t know,” Liza covered her face with her hands. “He’s not a bad person. He’s just… weak.”
“Weakness is also a character trait,” Olga said quietly. “And you are the one who will have to live with it.”
The week dragged on painfully. Lyosha did not call. Neither did Liza. She went to work, returned to the empty apartment, cooked dinner for one person. In the evenings, she sat by the window and looked at the city lights.
She thought.
On the eighth day, when she came home from work, she found Lyosha sitting on the stair landing. He was sitting on the step, clutching a backpack in his arms. He looked exhausted — red eyes, stubble, wrinkled jacket.
“Hi,” he raised his head. “Can I come in? We need to talk.”
Liza opened the door and silently let him in. Lyosha went into the kitchen, sat down, and placed the backpack beside him.
“A week at Mom’s place was a trial,” he began without looking her in the eye. “Every day she talked about you. About how calculating you are. How you deceived us. Lena kept adding fuel to the fire. They told me to file for divorce.”
“And?” Liza sat across from him.
“And I realized,” Lyosha raised his voice. “That Mom will never let us live in peace. She thinks I should obey only her. And you… you are a rival to her.”
“Lyosha…”
“Let me finish,” he interrupted. “I was a fool. It was convenient for me that you didn’t object when I talked about the apartment. It fed my ego. In front of friends, in front of relatives. Look at me, what a great man I am — I bought an apartment for my wife.”
“You didn’t buy me an apartment,” Liza said quietly. “I bought it myself.”
“I know!” Lyosha struck the table with his fist. “I know that now! And I’m ashamed. I took credit for your achievement. I lied to everyone. And worst of all, I lied to myself.”
Liza stayed silent. She waited.
“I want everything to be honest,” Lyosha pulled an envelope from his backpack. “Here are the bank details. This is my share for housing. I’ll pay every month. And half the utilities. And groceries. I have no right to expect you to support me.”
Liza took the envelope and opened it. Inside was a piece of paper with bank details and calculations — half the market rent.
“Lyosha, I don’t need rent money from you.”
“You do,” he stubbornly clenched his jaw. “Otherwise, I’ll feel like a freeloader. Do you understand? I want to be your husband, not a dependent.”
“All right,” Liza set the envelope aside. “Let’s do it differently. You pay the utilities in full. And groceries. But not rent. Because this is our home. Legally mine, but in reality ours.”
Lyosha slowly nodded.
“Agreed. But I want you to know that I called Mom. I told her the truth about the apartment. She was furious, screamed that you had deceived me. I answered that I was the one who lied. And that I’m staying with you. If she wants to see me, she’ll have to accept that and respect my wife.”
“What did she say?”
“She hung up,” Lyosha gave a humorless smile. “Then Lena wrote to me. Called me weak. Said I was under your thumb. But I… I don’t care. I’m tired of being Mama’s boy. I want to be simply your husband.”
Liza reached across the table and covered his hand with hers.
“Lyosha, I don’t need a perfect husband. I need an honest one. One who isn’t afraid to tell the truth. And one who is on my side when it matters.”
“I’ll try,” he squeezed her fingers. “Just give me a chance.”
They sat silently, holding hands. Dusk was thickening outside the window. Somewhere, a car hummed. Somewhere, a dog barked. Ordinary life continued.
“Liza,” Lyosha broke the silence. “Can I stay?”
“You can,” she smiled. “This is your home too.”
A month passed.
One Saturday morning, Liza came into the kitchen and found Lyosha sitting at the table with a notebook. He was writing something down, frowning in concentration.
“What’s that?” she looked over his shoulder.
“A grocery list. And I’m calculating the utilities. The bills came yesterday.”
Liza sat beside him and poured herself juice.
“Lyosh, listen. Mom called. She invited us to lunch tomorrow.”
“Your parents?” he raised his head. “Of course, we’ll go.”
“No,” Liza shook her head. “Your mother. Vera Romanovna called. She said she wants to talk. And that I should come too.”
Lyosha put down the pen.
“Seriously? She contacts us for the first time in a month and immediately invites us over?”
“Yes. I don’t know whether we should go.”
“We’ll go,” Lyosha took her hand. “Together. If something goes wrong, we’ll simply leave.”
On Sunday, they went to Vera Romanovna’s place. Liza was nervous, though she tried not to show it. Lyosha held her hand the whole way.
Her mother-in-law opened the door. She looked tense but nodded politely.
“Come in.”
Lena and Igor were waiting in the living room. The atmosphere was strained. Everyone sat upright, as if they were taking an exam.
“Sit down,” Vera Romanovna pointed to the sofa.
They sat. An awkward pause hung in the air.
“I wanted to apologize,” her mother-in-law began, and Liza nearly fell off the sofa. “Lyosha explained the situation to me. I was wrong. I should not have come without an invitation. And especially not changed the lock.”
“Mom,” Lyosha started, but she raised her hand.
“Let me finish. I’m used to controlling things. It has always been this way with me — my home, my rules. I thought it should be the same for you. But that was wrong. Liza is right. It is her apartment. And I had no right to command anything there.”
Lena snorted… then sighed and turned toward the window. Igor nudged her with his elbow. She crossed her arms over her chest but stayed silent.
“Vera Romanovna,” Liza found the strength to speak. “I’m not against you visiting. Truly. But I would like you to let us know in advance. And not change anything without asking.”
“Agreed,” her mother-in-law nodded. “I’ll call beforehand.”
“And one more thing,” Lyosha added firmly. “Mom, I love you. But Liza is my wife. And if there is a choice, I will choose her. I’m sorry.”
Vera Romanovna pressed her lips together but nodded.
“I understand.”
Lunch passed in a strange atmosphere. Everyone was polite, but cautious. Lena barely spoke and only cast sideways glances now and then. Igor tried to ease the tension by telling funny stories from his taxi work.
When they were getting ready to leave, neighbor Tamara Lvovna appeared at the doorway. She was carrying a bag of groceries and waved cheerfully.
“Oh, Lizochka! How are you?”
“Hello, Tamara Lvovna,” Liza smiled. “Everything is fine.”
“That’s good. And I just remembered a story,” the neighbor set her bag near the door. “About my own mother-in-law, may she rest in peace. She also loved to command. Once she came to our place without warning, called a worker, and ordered him to repaint the walls. Pink! I endured it and endured it, and then I said: ‘Anna Semyonovna, this is my home. I don’t like pink. Please ask me in the future.’ She got offended and didn’t visit for three months. But after that, she always called in advance.”
Vera Romanovna pressed her lips together but said nothing.
Tamara Lvovna continued.
“So, girls, learn to speak up right away. Otherwise, it gets harder later.”
Igor coughed quietly. Lena turned away. And suddenly Liza laughed — for the first time that whole day. Lyosha looked at her and smiled too.
They went outside, and Liza took a deep breath of fresh air.
“Well. The first step has been taken.”
“Yes,” Lyosha put his arm around her shoulders. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”
“Thank you for not being afraid of honesty,” she said, leaning into him.
They walked toward the car, and for the first time in a long while, Liza felt light.
Not everything was solved. Not all problems were behind them. But the most important thing had happened — they had learned to tell the truth.
To each other and to everyone else.
And that, as it turned out, was worth a great deal.