Katya, this is only temporary,» Sergey’s voice sounded strained, almost apologetic. He sat across from his wife, avoiding her gaze. A cup of cooled tea sat on the kitchen table, next to a modest shopping list. The discussion was clearly not the kind that ended peacefully. «My parents just need a little time; they’ll stay with us while their house is being renovated.»
Katya looked at her husband, feeling a dull irritation rising in her chest. A year ago, he would never have suggested this. But something had changed—since his company closed, Sergey seemed to have lost himself.
«I understand they’re your parents,» she finally said, choosing her words carefully to keep from flaring up. «But we really don’t have that much space. This is a two-bedroom apartment, Sergey, not a cottage.» He looked up at her, like a child expecting reproach.
«What does it matter? The living room will be enough. It’s only temporary,» Sergey said, his voice holding a note of hope. Katya looked away. The living room, which served as their communal space, a place of relaxation. How could he not understand that everything would change?
«If you insist…» she sighed.
The next day, Katya’s family life crumbled. Irina Mikhailovna and Alexey Nikolaevich, Sergey’s parents, arrived as if for a grand settling in. They brought not only the essentials but everything they thought could «decorate» their son’s apartment.
Boxes with their clothes, bundles of bedding, family photos in heavy frames, and even an old TV, which Sergey had installed in the living room for some reason, cluttered the hallway.
«Well, that’s nice,» Irina Mikhailovna declared from the threshold, surveying the neatly arranged items of Katya. «It was a bit empty in this apartment of yours. It’ll be cozier now.»
Katya held back with all her might.
«Yes, it’s a bit empty…» she muttered, taking her favorite vase to the kitchen so it wouldn’t «accidentally break.»
All evening, Katya listened as Irina Mikhailovna gave Sergey instructions. The wallpaper needed replacing, the floors hadn’t been washed in ages. Alexey Nikolaevich silently sat on the sofa, flipping through a newspaper.
«Katya, don’t worry,» her mother-in-law smiled at her. «We’re not here for long. You won’t even notice how fast these months will fly by.»
Months? Katya felt her hands clench into fists. For the first time, she understood: this was going to be a difficult period.
A week passed. Katya tried to adapt to the new rhythm of life. The once quiet apartment now lived its own life: the TV in the living room was on around the clock, loud conversations came from the kitchen, and her favorite chair suddenly became the «perfect spot» for Irina Mikhailovna.
«Katya, do you mind if I sit here?» her mother-in-law asked, not waiting for an answer, settling comfortably in the chair. «There’s a draft in the living room, after all.»
«Of course, sit down,» Katya dryly replied, deciding to retreat to the bedroom.
But the bedroom was no longer a refuge. One day, returning from work, Katya caught Irina Mikhailovna rummaging through her dresser.
«Are you looking for something?» Katya asked, barely holding back her emotions.
«I just decided to tidy up a bit,» her mother-in-law was not embarrassed. «Your things are somewhat chaotically arranged.»
Katya almost sighed in exasperation but remained silent.
«Thank you for your concern, but this is my dresser, I’ll manage on my own.»
Irina Mikhailovna just clicked her tongue but left.
The pressure intensified with each day.
«Katya, you don’t know how to cook potatoes,» her mother-in-law declared at dinner. «They’re overcooked. I’ll show you how it’s done tomorrow.»
«Yes, mom,» Sergey responded, not even looking at his wife.
Katya threw her fork down on the plate.
«Maybe you should cook then?» her voice was sharper than she had planned.
Sergey looked at her but said nothing.
The conflict reached its peak one weekend. Katya woke up late, planning to spend the day with her favorite book. But her plans were disrupted by Alexey Nikolaevich, loudly discussing a football match with the television.
«Alexey Nikolaevich, could you please keep it down?» she asked cautiously.
«What, do we live in a museum here?» Irina Mikhailovna’s voice came from the kitchen. «We have the day off, after all.»
Katya took a deep breath but didn’t argue. Instead, she returned to the bedroom and sat down at her laptop.
An hour later, her mother-in-law burst in without knocking.
«Katya, I can’t find my glasses. Have you seen them by chance?»
«No, I haven’t seen them.»
«Could you check in your bag?»
«In my bag?» Katya looked up.
«Perhaps you accidentally put them there? You were in a hurry to work.»
Katya slammed her laptop shut.
«Irina Mikhailovna, I respect you very much, but this is crossing all boundaries.»
«Boundaries?» her mother-in-law squinted. «You should have set boundaries earlier, dear. It’s too late now.»
That evening, Katya shared with Sergey.
«Sergey, I can’t take it anymore. We agreed this was temporary. They’ve already rearranged everything; I feel like a stranger in my own apartment!»
Sergey frowned.
«They’re your parents, and I’m your wife. Why aren’t you protecting me?»
«Katya, they’re trying as best they can. It’s hard for them, and you need to put yourself in their shoes.»
«In their shoes? And you don’t want to put yourself in mine?»
Sergey was silent.
Katya realized: in this battle, she was alone.
Two more weeks passed. Katya’s patience reached its limit. Irina Mikhailovna was no longer just critical—she now dictated how Katya should live.
«I’ve been thinking it might be better to rearrange the furniture,» she declared at breakfast. «Move the sofa closer to the window, and the chair closer to the TV. It’s somewhat inconvenient this way.»
«It’s inconvenient for you?» Katya asked, trying not to lose her temper.
«Of course, it’s uncomfortable. We’re used to order, and here…»
«This is my home,» Katya stood up from the table.
«This apartment is our son’s too,» Irina Mikhailovna noted coldly. «So don’t forget that and behave accordingly.»
Katya looked at Sergey, but he once again hid behind his phone screen.
«I don’t want to hear it,» she said and went into the bedroom, slamming the door.
Her heart was pounding furiously. She knew this couldn’t go on for long.
The next day, the climax came unexpectedly.
Katya came home earlier than usual. The hallway was a mess: boxes with things were scattered on the floor, loud voices came from the kitchen.
«This isn’t right!» shouted Irina Mikhailovna. «She bought nonsense, and now there’s no room for anything!»
«Well, you can throw it out,» Alexey Nikolaevich calmly replied.
Katya rushed into the room and saw her mother-in-law taking her favorite vase out into the hallway.
«What’s going on here?» she asked coldly.
«We decided to tidy up,» Irina Mikhailovna cut her off, not turning around.
«This is my vase, put it back.»
«You have two of them, why do you need so many?»
Katya stepped forward and snatched the vase from her mother-in-law’s hands.
«Stop this immediately!»
Irina Mikhailovna turned to her, hands on hips.
«You know what, Katya? You don’t understand what family is, and that’s your problem. We’re trying here, and all you do is complain.»
Katya looked at her, feeling anger rising in her chest.
«Enough,» she said quietly but firmly. «From the start, you’ve been violating my boundaries. This is my apartment, and I no longer feel at home here.»
«Where did you get the idea that this is your home?» her mother-in-law was indignant. «This is Sergey’s home, and therefore ours.»
Katya flinched.
«Fine, if this is your home, then you can pay the mortgage for it,» she said without hesitation. «And if not, you have exactly three days to pack your things and leave.»
At that moment, Sergey appeared in the hallway.
«Are you out of your mind?» he looked at her, unbelieving.
«No, Sergey,» Katya looked him straight in the eyes. «I went crazy when I agreed to this. But I won’t allow it anymore.»
Her mother-in-law began to argue, but Katya wasn’t listening. She knew her decision was made.
In the evening, sitting in the kitchen, Sergey tried to talk to her.
«Katya, they’re my parents… You can’t just kick them out.»
«I can’t? And you can allow them to kick me out of my own home?»
Sergey was silent.
«If you don’t understand that,» she continued, «maybe you should live with them.»
Sergey looked at his wife and realized that arguing was useless.
A unusually quiet Monday morning followed. The apartment was no longer filled with noise and arguments. Last night, Irina Mikhailovna and Alexey Nikolaevich left. Katya heard them packing their things, muttering under their breath, but she didn’t leave the bedroom. Sergey silently helped his parents carry the boxes downstairs.
Now he sat opposite Katya in the kitchen. His gaze darted between his cup of tea and her hands, nervously fidgeting with the edge of her sweater.
«Are you serious about all this?» he finally asked.
«Serious,» Katya calmly replied.
Sergey looked away.
«You kicked out my parents,» he said as if he couldn’t believe it.
«No,» Katya countered. «I returned them to their home. And myself—to mine.»
Sergey was silent, then got up and walked to the window.
«You could have talked to me.»
«I tried,» her voice sounded tired. «But you didn’t listen. Every time you took their side.»
«They’re my family.»
«And me?» Katya stood up, looking him squarely in the eye. «Am I your family? Or is that just a formality for you?»
Sergey was silent.
«If we are family, I won’t let us live in constant tension. I was ready for compromises, but not to lose my right to be the hostess in my own home.»
He looked at her, but said nothing.
Several days passed in silence. Sergey, apparently unsure how to react, began spending more time outside the home, and when he was home, he often sat in the living room, avoiding conversations with Katya.
Katya began to restore order in the apartment: cleaning up the remnants of others’ belongings, returning things to their places that her mother-in-law had «rearranged.» With each day, her home became cozy again.
One evening, as Katya was finishing washing the dishes, Sergey entered the kitchen.
«I’ll move out,» he said, looking down.
Katya froze.
«What?»
«I need time to think things over,» he tried to speak evenly, but his voice was shaky. «Maybe you’re right, but I can’t stay right now.»
Katya nodded, holding back tears.
«Okay.»
He packed his things and left that night.
A month passed. Katya lived alone, feeling peace for the first time in a long while. Her life gradually returned to its usual course. One day, as she sat with a cup of coffee, browsing the news on her phone, the doorbell rang.
Sergey stood on the threshold.
«May I come in?» he asked quietly.
Katya nodded and stepped back, letting him in.
«I thought you’d want to return everything,» he said, sitting down. «But it seems you’re satisfied.»
«I’m satisfied that I no longer feel like an outsider in my own home,» she replied.
Sergey pondered, rubbing his hands.
«I want to try again,» he finally said. «With you.»
Katya wondered, could they rebuild a relationship in which she didn’t feel like a secondary character? Where her opinion mattered as much as his. Where Sergey could protect their home from even the closest people.
She nodded, as if answering her own thoughts.
«Okay, Sergey. Let’s try. But know, if you forget again that family is us together, I won’t give you another chance next time.»
Sergey lowered his gaze, then nodded.
«I understand. And I won’t let you down again.»
But could he really? Was Sergey ready for changes, or was his desire to return Katya just an attempt to make amends, which would again lead to conflicts?
And could Katya herself find the strength to forgive and forget everything that had happened? Would the past not remain a splinter in their relationship, breaking through in accusations and things left unsaid?
Only life knew the answers.
But for now, on this evening, two people decided to give each other another chance.
