“I’ll sell your apartment, pay off my debts, and then you can get lost for all I care. We’ll call it even,” her husband hissed.
“What, excuse me?” Lena froze, a pot of borscht in her hands. “Are you serious right now?”
“Absolutely. The apartment is in your name, so I’m entitled to half. I need the money.”
“Vitya, this was my grandmother’s apartment! You know that!”
“So what? We’ve been married for ten years. By law, it’s joint property.”
Lena had inherited the two-room apartment a year before the wedding. Grandma Zina, God rest her soul, had saved from her pension all her life so she could leave her granddaughter something.
“Lenochka, this is for you,” she whispered in the hospital a week before she died. “Only for you. Promise me you’ll take care of it.”
Back then, Viktor was different. He brought Grandma oranges, read the newspaper to her out loud. After the funeral, he held Lena and wiped away her tears.
“Don’t cry, sweetheart. She wouldn’t want to see you like this.”
They moved into Grandma’s apartment right after the wedding. At the time, Viktor worked as a manager at a car dealership and earned a decent salary. Lena was an elementary school teacher. They lived in harmony. On weekends, they went to his parents’ dacha and grilled шашлыки. They dreamed about having children.
“Let’s get on our feet first,” Viktor would say. “We’ll renovate the place, replace the car, and then we’ll think about kids.”
They really did renovate. With money Lena had saved over three years from her teaching salary. Viktor had just been laid off at the time.
For the first six months, he actively looked for work. He went to interviews, sent out résumés. Then he started turning jobs down.
“I’m not eighteen anymore, I’m not going to work for peanuts!”
“Vitya, but you have to start somewhere,” Lena would say carefully.
“What, are you blaming me? I supported this family for five years, by the way!”
Supported it. Back when they were both working and splitting all the expenses equally.
A year later, Viktor was no longer looking for work. He lay on the couch, watched TV series, played tank games. Lena would come home from school to find the apartment a mess, dirty dishes in the sink, and no dinner cooked.
“I’m tired,” he would brush her off. “I’m depressed.”
The depression didn’t stop him from meeting his friends at the bar every Friday. He always managed to find money for beer. Lena didn’t ask where it came from. Her salary barely covered utilities and groceries.
“Maybe you should see a therapist?” she suggested once.
“With what money? You’re the breadwinner in this family!” Viktor sneered.
Lena found out about the debts by accident. Some guy named Artyom called her.
“Lena, hi. This is Vitya’s friend. He said he’d pay back the two hundred thousand he borrowed last week. Any idea when that’ll be?”
“Two hundred… thousand?” Lena’s throat went dry.
“Yeah. He also borrowed three hundred from Sergey. And a hundred from Maksim. Said he had some big project coming up.”
That evening, they had the conversation. At first Viktor denied everything, then he snapped.
“Yes, I borrowed money! So what? I’m trying to launch a business! I’m doing this for the family!”
“What business, Vitya? You’ve been lying on the couch for a year!”
“Oh, is that so? Well, you know what…”
And that was when he brought up the apartment.
“You’re not getting any apartment,” Lena said, slamming the pot onto the table so hard that borscht spilled over. “It’s an inheritance. Premarital property.”
“We’ll see what the court says. I put money into the renovation!”
“You?!” Lena laughed. “The most you ever did was hang wallpaper! And even that crookedly!”
“But I paid for everything!”
“With my money! I saved it over three years!”
“Excuse me, what?” Lena froze, a pot of borscht in her hands. “Are you serious right now?”
“Absolutely. The apartment is in your name, so I’m entitled to half of it. I need money.”
“Vitya, this is my grandmother’s apartment! You know that!”
“So what? We’ve been married for ten years. By law, it’s marital property.”
Lena had inherited the two-room apartment a year before the wedding. Grandma Zina, God rest her soul, had saved from her pension all her life so she could leave her granddaughter something.
“Lenochka, this is for you,” she whispered in the hospital a week before her death. “Only for you. Promise me you’ll keep it safe.”
Back then, Viktor was different. He brought Grandma oranges and read the newspaper to her out loud. After the funeral, he hugged Lena and wiped away her tears.
“Don’t cry, sweetheart. She wouldn’t want to see you like this.”
They moved into Grandma’s apartment right after the wedding. At the time, Viktor worked as a manager at a car dealership and earned a decent salary. Lena was an elementary school teacher. They lived in perfect harmony. On weekends they went to his parents’ dacha and grilled kebabs. They dreamed of having children.
“Let’s get on our feet first,” Viktor used to say. “We’ll do the renovation, replace the car, and then we’ll think about kids.”
And they really did renovate. With money Lena had saved over three years from her teaching salary. Viktor had just been laid off at the time.
For the first six months, he actively looked for work. He went to interviews and sent out résumés. Then he started getting picky.
“I’m not eighteen anymore, I’m not going to break my back for pennies!”
“Vitya, but you have to start somewhere,” Lena said carefully.
“What, are you reproaching me? I supported this family for five years, by the way!”
Supported it. Back when they were both working and splitting all the expenses down the middle.
A year later, Viktor was no longer looking for work. He lay on the couch, watched TV series, played tank games. Lena would come home from school to find the apartment uncleaned, the dishes dirty, and lunch not made.
“I’m tired,” he would brush her off. “I’m depressed.”
His depression didn’t stop him from meeting his friends at the bar every Friday. There was always money for beer. Lena never asked where it came from. Her salary barely covered utilities and food.
“Maybe you should see a therapist?” she suggested once.
“With what money? You’re the breadwinner around here!” Viktor sneered.
Lena found out about the debts by accident. A man named Artyom called her.
“Hey, Lena. This is Vitya’s friend. He promised to pay back the two hundred thousand he borrowed last week. Any idea when that’ll happen?”
“Two hundred… thousand?” Lena’s throat went dry.
“Yeah. He also borrowed another three hundred from Seryoga. And a hundred from Maksim. Said he had a big project coming up.”
That evening, they had that fateful conversation. Viktor denied it at first, then exploded.
“Yes, I borrowed money! So what? I’m trying to launch a business! I’m doing it for the family!”
“What business, Vitya? You’ve been lying on the couch for a year!”
“Oh, is that so? Well then…”
And that was when he brought up the apartment.
“You’re not getting any apartment,” Lena said, setting the pot on the table so hard the borscht splashed out. “It’s an inheritance. Premarital property.”
“We’ll see what the court says. I invested in the renovation!”
“You?!” Lena burst out laughing. “At most, you glued wallpaper on the walls! And even that crookedly!”
“But I paid for everything!”
“With my money! I saved for three years!”
Viktor jumped up and loomed over her.
“You think you’re so smart? I already spoke to a lawyer. Since we’ve been married more than eight years and the apartment has been used jointly, I’m entitled to a share!”
“Just try it!” Lena stood up too. “I kept every receipt. Every transfer. Every piece of proof that you’ve been freeloading for three years!”
“Oh, so now I’m a freeloader?!”
He swung his arm, but Lena caught his wrist.
“Just try it! I’ll go straight to the police and file a report!”
The next day Lena went to her mother’s place. Her mother lived in a one-room apartment on the outskirts of town and worked as a nurse at a clinic.
“Mom, Vitya wants to take the apartment through court.”
Her mother, Nadya, poured some tea and sat across from her.
“I was expecting this. He’s not a good man, Lena. I felt it from the start.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Would you have listened? You were head over heels in love.”
Lena started crying. Her mother hugged her and stroked her hair.
“Don’t cry. Grandma Zina won’t forgive you from the other world if you hand that apartment over to this crook. Come on, let’s go see my friend. She’s a very good lawyer.”
The lawyer, Valentina Pavlovna, a woman in her sixties with steel-gray curls, listened carefully.
“The apartment was inherited before marriage, so it’s premarital property. Renovation? Where’s the proof of his contributions? There is none? Wonderful. But you need to divorce quickly, before he saddles you with some fake debts.”
A week later, her mother-in-law called.
“Lena, may I stop by?”
Galina Mikhaylovna arrived carrying a folder of documents.
“Here, take these. These are all of Vitya’s IOUs. I found them in his desk when he came to our dacha.”
“Why are you giving these to me?”
Her mother-in-law let out a heavy sigh.
“His father and I spoiled him. Only son, a late child. Everything for him, everything to him. So he grew up into… this. You’re a good girl, Lena. You didn’t deserve this treatment. I remember your grandmother — she was a достойная woman. Don’t let him take the apartment.”
“And if he finds out that you…”
“Let him find out. Maybe he’ll finally feel ashamed. Though I doubt it.”
Galina Mikhaylovna stood up and hugged Lena goodbye.
“Get divorced, dear. And find yourself a decent man. This one… his father and I can no longer fix our mistakes.”
The court hearing was set for a month later. Viktor hired a lawyer and strutted around like a peacock.
“Get the money ready for my share!”
Lena said nothing. She gathered documents and witness statements. Old Klava, the neighbor, confirmed that Viktor hadn’t worked for three years. Lena’s colleagues wrote statements saying she alone had supported the family. On the day of the trial, Viktor arrived in a suit and tie — confident and arrogant.
His lawyer began talking about how the spouses had run the household together for many years and both invested in the renovation…
“Allow me,” Lena’s lawyer said, rising to her feet. “Here are documents proving that the apartment is premarital property. Here are receipts for the renovation — everything was paid from my client’s bank card. And here is the defendant’s income statement. Or rather, the lack of any income over the last three years.”
“But my client managed the household!” Viktor’s lawyer tried to object.
“Here are statements from neighbors proving otherwise. And here are the defendant’s debt notes totaling more than six hundred thousand rubles. Incidentally, my client knew nothing about these debts, therefore they are not joint liabilities.”
Viktor turned pale.
“How did you get…”
“Silence in the courtroom!” the judge snapped.
After the trial, which Lena won completely, Viktor caught up with her outside.
“You bitch! You ruined my life!”
“Me?” Lena turned around. “Was I the one lying on the couch for three years? Was I the one borrowing money from friends?”
“You never understood me! You never supported me!”
“Vitya, do you want the truth? The real truth?”
“Go ahead!”
“You’re weak. Just an ordinary infantile weakling who got used to mommy making every decision for him. And when mommy wasn’t there, you decided I’d be your new mommy. But I’m not your mother. And I’m not going to babysit a forty-year-old infant.”
“I’ll—”
“What? Hit me? In front of witnesses?” Lena nodded toward the passersby. “Go ahead. I’ll add assault charges to the divorce case.”
Viktor deflated and lowered his hand.
“Where am I supposed to live now?”
“That’s not my problem. Go back to mommy. She definitely won’t abandon you.”
Two weeks later, Artyom called again.
“Lena, sorry to bother you. Vitya says you got divorced?”
“Yes. Why?”
“He’s telling everyone you threw him out of the apartment and now he’s homeless. He’s asking people for money to rent a place.”
“And?”
“Well, we know him. But now he’s gone to new people. Says he’s just having temporary difficulties and that a big project is launching soon. He’s already collected about two hundred thousand.”
“Artyom, why are you telling me this?”
“I feel sorry for the idiot. His new creditors aren’t as understanding as we were. They might beat the crap out of him. Maybe you could talk to him?”
“No,” Lena said sharply. “He’s an adult. Let him answer for himself.”
A month later, Galina Mikhaylovna called.
“Lenochka, I’m sorry to bother you. Vitya moved back in with us.”
“Well, that’s good.”
“No, it isn’t. He conned his father out of money. Said he was starting a business. His father gave him his last savings — three hundred thousand. We had been saving it for treatment.”
“My God…”
“And yesterday some men came to our place. They were looking for Vitya. They said if the money isn’t there in a week, they’ll burn our apartment down.”
“Call the police!”
“His father doesn’t want to. He says he won’t report his own son. Lenochka, I’m not asking for money. I just… maybe you know what to do?”
Lena was silent for a moment.
“You know what, Galina Mikhaylovna? Pack your things and move in with me. There’s enough room. And sell your apartment.”
“What do you mean…”
“There’s no other way. Viktor will ruin you and abandon you. You can see what he is.”
“But he’s our son…”
“A son who is ready to put his own parents in danger. Think about it.”
Six months later, Lena ran into Viktor near a store. Unshaven, in a wrinkled jacket, reeking of alcohol.
“Len…” he tried to smile. “How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Listen, could you lend me a couple thousand? For food…”
“Vitya,” Lena looked him straight in the eyes, “remember when you said we were even?”
“Well… I was just angry…”
“No. You were right. We are even. Completely and finally.”
She walked around him and kept going. Viktor shouted after her:
“You heartless bitch! I loved you!”
Lena didn’t turn around. She only thought: No, Vitya. You only loved yourself. And my apartment. But Grandma Zina can rest easy — I protected what was mine.
A week later Artyom told her that Viktor had been found beaten in the stairwell. He survived, but from now on he would be walking with a cane. His creditors, it turned out, were serious people.
Galina Mikhaylovna, who had indeed moved in with Lena after Viktor stole his father’s last money, only sighed.
“It’s his own fault. We warned him.”
“Don’t you feel sorry for him?” Lena asked.
“I feel sorry for the boy we raised. But this… this is not our son. This is a monster we created ourselves. Forgive us, Lenochka.”
Lena hugged her mother-in-law. Former mother-in-law. The woman who had become closer to her than her own mother.
The score really had been settled.
Just not the way Viktor had planned.
