On Friday morning, Maxim sent me his account information and a short message: “Sveta, I need the 300 today. After lunch, we’re going to check out the apartment.”
I read his message twice. The car keys were lying on the table next to me, and porridge was getting cold on the stove. There was no big scene. Just four days ago, my younger brother explained to me why I wouldn’t be at his wedding, and now he was texting as if it had nothing to do with anything.
I didn’t reply right away. And I didn’t send him the money either.
Until that morning, I was almost sure I would send the money.
Before the wedding, I was the “just in case” person for him.
Maxim is five years younger than me. I’m thirty-six, and he’s thirty-one. We were never inseparable, but if one of us had some problem at home, the other would usually help out.
Over time, though, it started turning into a one-way street.
When Maxim moved into his first rented apartment, I spent two evenings helping him move his boxes with my car. I then gave him seventy thousand rubles because the landlord asked for rent in advance, and my brother was between jobs. He promised to pay me back in two months, but it actually took almost five. I never said a word about it.
Then Oksana appeared. She’s a calm, easygoing girl who doesn’t like getting involved in other people’s business. We didn’t become friends, but we got along fine whenever we met at mom’s place.
Last winter, Maxim asked me to meet a delivery at their place. I got permission to leave work, drove over, let the movers in, waited while they assembled the cabinet, checked the doors, and locked the apartment with the key my brother had left with mom.
A week later, the pipe under my sink started leaking. I turned off the water and called a plumber, but needed a part—and my car was in the shop. I asked Maxim if he could give me a ride to get it.
“Can’t do today,” he replied in messenger. “We’ve got friends coming over. Just call a taxi.”
So I called a taxi and barely felt offended at all.
In the spring, our mom had to go for a medical exam. Maxim promised to drive her, but the night before he called:
“Sveta, can you take her? We’ve got tickets, and it would be a shame to waste them.”
I rearranged my plans, picked up my mom in the morning, and drove her over. On the way, she said her usual phrase:
“Don’t be upset, young people have their own lives.”
I guess part of this was my fault, too. I would say «fine» way too often, even before I stopped to consider if it was actually convenient for me.
The three hundred thousand didn’t start out as a loan
Maxim first brought up the apartment in April. He and Oksana had been saving up for almost two years, the bank had pre-approved a mortgage, but for their chosen place, they were about three hundred thousand short for the down payment.
He came over one evening and showed me some pictures of the apartment on his phone. It was a two-bedroom, no finishing yet, but the building was already commissioned, with a bus stop and a store nearby.
“If we take this place, we can cover the payments. The most annoying part is that we’re just a little short for the deposit.”
That «little short» turned out to be three hundred thousand.
I happened to have that money. I’d been tucking some away into a savings account for several years: setting aside part of my bonuses, not upgrading my car, choosing simpler vacations.
Maxim asked me:
“Could you lend it to us? If you don’t need it yourself.”
For some reason, I immediately decided to make a grand gesture.
“Buy the apartment—and consider it my housewarming gift.”
He even double-checked:
“Three hundred thousand as a gift?”
“Yes. But I won’t send it ahead of time. Once you settle on the apartment and have a date for the deal—I’ll transfer the money.”
Maxim put his arm around my shoulders and promised he would never forget it.
We didn’t sign any paperwork or write up an IOU, and I didn’t give him any money yet. It was just a normal family conversation about a future gift.
After that, my brother asked me twice more if the offer still stood and whether I’d be able to send the money quickly when the deal closed.
“It still stands,” I confirmed.
A month before the wedding, he remembered those three hundred thousand better than sending me an invitation.
I found out about the wedding from my mom
On Tuesday evening, my mom called and asked if I could drop off a box with a gift for the newlyweds on Saturday.
“Sure, I can bring it. By the way, when’s the wedding?”
There was silence on the other end.
“Sveta, didn’t Maxim tell you?”
Turned out the wedding was in twelve days. City hall, then a restaurant. Mom already had her dress and knew what time the taxi would pick her up.
I didn’t even know the address of the restaurant.
I called Maxim right away.
“Max, is your wedding in twelve days?”
“Yeah.”
“And were you planning to tell me at some point?”
He sighed.
“Sveta, please don’t start. We’re having a small wedding.”
“I’m not starting anything yet. But why is Mom the one telling me about it?”
After a brief pause, he said:
“It’s just people very close to us.”
I asked again:
“So what am I, then?”
“Don’t twist my words. I mean our inner circle—the people we see all the time. Oksana made the guest list, and there aren’t many spots.”
I went to the window and adjusted the curtain that had gotten caught on the handle.
“So I’m not part of your circle?”
“You’re my sister, that’s different.”
“What’s different about it?”
Maxim let out an irritated breath:
“Sveta, you’re thirty-six. Is it really necessary to get upset over a restaurant invite? We just want to have people we’re comfortable being around.”
I didn’t argue with that. His wedding, his guest list.
“Alright. It’s your decision.”
Maxim clearly relaxed.
“Thanks for understanding.”
After that call, I even decided not to mix the wedding with money anymore. It hurt—yes. But I had already promised the three hundred thousand.
That could have been the end of it.
But the next day, Mom called again.
For some reason, this ‘small wedding’ kept growing bigger.
Mom tried to reassure me, but ended up doing just the opposite.
«It’ll mostly be young people,» she explained. «Two of Maxim’s friends with their wives, colleagues from work, Oksana’s cousin…»
That cousin actually lived in another city, and Oksana barely saw her. Then it turned out Maxim’s former classmate would be there, Oksana’s boss and his wife, and even her parents’ neighbor. Altogether—thirty-four people.
I didn’t call my brother. Not my finest choice. I could have just told him that after what he said, I was reconsidering my promise—but inside me there was this stubborn urge to see if he’d reach out on his own for something besides the money.
He didn’t.
The day before the wedding, I brought Mom her box. She put the gift on the dresser, took her dress out of the closet, and hung it on the door.
«Maybe you’ll still talk to Maxim?»
«Why? He’s already said everything.»
On the wedding day, I worked until lunchtime. Later in the day, Mom sent a few photos in the family chat. Around a long table sat people I barely knew. Maxim was smiling, Oksana was holding her bouquet beside him.
I wrote: «Congratulations. Wishing you happiness.»
Maxim reacted with a heart emoji to my message.
The next day, he called himself.
«Sveta, thanks for not making a scene. I was worried you’d be upset.»
«I was upset.»
He fell silent.
«Well… I get it. The guest list had to be cut.»
«I saw the photos.»
Another pause.
«Alright. I hope we can drop this now.»
«We can.»
He heard that as reconciliation. I meant just one thing: I wasn’t going to discuss the wedding anymore.
After the call, I opened my banking app and almost sent the three hundred thousand ahead of time just to close this chapter for myself. The amount was already filled in—I just needed to confirm the transfer.
I closed the app.
I decided to wait for the exact date of the deal.
Four days later, my brother sent the payment details.
And so, that Friday finally came.
«Sveta, we need the three hundred thousand today. After lunch, we’re heading out to see the apartment.»
No question if I was available, no mention the sum was still enormous. Right after, the payment instructions arrived.
About twenty minutes later, Maxim called.
«Did you see the message?»
«I saw it.»
«Will you transfer it before noon? I want the money on the account already.»
I put my spoon in the sink and wiped my hands with a towel.
«No, Maxim. I’m not transferring it.»
He thought I meant the timing.
«Then by one o’clock. We can leave later.»
«I’m not transferring the money at all.»
The line went quiet.
«But you promised.»
«I did.»
«We’re counting on it.»
«I know.»
That’s when he got it.
«Is this because of the wedding?»
I didn’t pretend to be noble.
«Partly, yes.»
Maxim started to raise his voice. He said the wedding was their personal business, that adults don’t use money for revenge, that they’d already chosen an apartment, set the dates, and now I was «changing the rules at the last minute.»
On this, he was partly right. I could have warned him sooner.
«Yes,» I said. «I should have told you right away. That was my mistake.»
He was silent for a moment.
«Well then, transfer the money, and after that, don’t talk to me for a year if you want.»
«No.»
«Why not?»
«Because I wanted to give a gift of three hundred thousand to a brother who considers me a close person. But you yourself explained that you have your own group, and then there’s me.»
«You’re fixating on one phrase.»
«No, I’m talking about your actions.»
Maxim started reminding me that we’ve always helped each other. He brought up that one time with the wardrobe as an example.
I couldn’t hold back:
«Maxim, I was the one who picked up the wardrobe.»
After that, he hung up the phone.
Ten minutes later, Oksana texted me. She wasn’t rude, but she was firm: they had counted on the money, and because of my feelings, they might lose the apartment they’d found.
I replied once:
«I understand this is a problem for you. I didn’t transfer the money, I didn’t sign any documents for the gift. Don’t count on that amount anymore.»
I didn’t continue the conversation any further.
The hardest conversation wasn’t with my brother.
That evening, my mom showed up. I’d told her on the phone that I was home, so she let herself in with her spare key she’d had for years.
She took off her coat, hung it up, and walked into the kitchen. I made her a cup of tea, but she didn’t touch it for a long time.
«Sveta, what are you doing? They’re going to lose the apartment.»
«Then they’ll look for another one.»
«But you promised.»
We circled around that phrase for about twenty minutes. Mom thought a promise should be kept, no matter what the relationship. I felt that a voluntary gift of that size should happen only inside a close relationship.
Then she said:
«Maxim made a mistake with the wedding. I told him that. But why pay him back the same way?»
«I didn’t throw a wedding without him. I just kept my money for myself.»
«For him, it’s almost the same thing.»
«A wedding without me is okay. But buying an apartment without my money isn’t allowed?»
Mom turned to the window, then picked up her cup, took a sip, and set it back on the table.
«Do you realize he won’t forgive you for this?»
«Maybe.»
It wasn’t easy for me. I felt angry, guilty, and several times thought it would be simpler to just transfer the money and end the fight. But every time I remembered his calm words: «Only our own are there.»
Mom left after an hour. She closed the door quietly behind her.
Maxim didn’t speak to me for almost two months. Through Mom, I learned that they lost out on that apartment—the seller wouldn’t wait for them to find the rest of the money. The deal just fell through.
Later, Maxim and Oksana kept saving, postponed their trip, and in the fall they found an apartment for less. Once everything was finalized, Mom called me herself.
«They bought it. They already got the keys.»
That evening I called Maxim.
«Mom said you bought the apartment. Congratulations.»
«Thanks.»
We were both silent for a few seconds.
Then he said:
«We managed without your money.»
The words stung, but now it was just a fact.
«I know,» I replied.
The next time Mom had a birthday, both of them came. Oksana brought a cake, and Maxim helped Mom move the heavy table closer to the wall. He didn’t talk much to me, but he was polite. No one mentioned the wedding.
There were three hundred thousand left in my savings account. Later on, I added more money to it and extended the deposit.
This account used to be called «For Maxim’s Apartment.»
