On a warm May evening, the windows of «Coffee House» melted into the background. Lena twirled a cup of cooled cappuccino in her hands, trying to gather her thoughts. A ring with a single diamond sparkled on her ring finger, which Maxim had slipped on a week ago. Now he sat opposite her, his brown eyes unusually serious.
«Let’s go over it again,» Maxim pushed away his Americano. «You want to buy an apartment. Now. Before the wedding.»
«Yes,» Lena straightened her shoulders. «I have an inheritance from my grandmother, enough for the down payment. My salary allows me to take out a mortgage…» «Doesn’t it matter that we are getting married in a month?»—bitterness cut through his voice. «That we planned to do this together?»
«It does,» she finally looked up. «That’s why I’m talking to you.»
At the next table, a young couple with a small child was getting ready to leave. The woman methodically packed toys into a bag, the man was paying. So ordinary, so homely. Lena felt a pinch in her heart.
«No, dear,» Maxim shook his head. «You’re not talking. You’re presenting me with a fait accompli.»
«I’m not!» she raised her voice, and a few patrons turned around. «I’m suggesting: let me buy it now, and after the wedding, we’ll transfer it to both of us.»
«Why not in both names right away?» he leaned forward. «Why not wait a month? What will change in that month?»
«Everything can change,» Lena wanted to say.
Before her eyes flashed a scene from childhood: her mother on her knees before her father, begging not to throw them out. «This is my apartment,» father hissed through clenched teeth. «Where will I go with three children?» her mother cried.
«Lena,» Maxim covered her icy fingers with his. «I see something’s wrong. Talk to me.»
«It’s fine,» she tried to smile. «Just… it’s an important decision.»
«That’s exactly why we need to make it together,» he squeezed her hand. «Listen, I understand your fears. Really, I do. I’ve been burned too, remember?»
She remembered. The story about Kira, Maxim’s ex-girlfriend who sold their shared apartment while he was on a business trip. Kira disappeared with the money, leaving Maxim with the mortgage and a broken heart. Lena didn’t know how Kira managed it alone, but she did.
«Still, I’m here with you, offering a future together,» his voice softened. «Because love is trust.»
Her phone vibrated in her pocket. A message from mom: «Honey, we need to talk. It’s very important.»
«Max,» Lena freed her hand. «Let’s not decide now? I… I need to think.»
«About what?» he leaned back in his chair. «Whether you trust me enough to build a family?»
«That’s not fair.»
«And what’s fair?» his lips formed a thin line. «To buy an apartment secretly so you have somewhere to run if something goes wrong?»
«I’m not planning to run!» tears welled up in her throat.
«Then why the rush?» he stood up, threw money on the table for the coffee. «Call me when you decide what you fear more: losing your independence or me.»
He left without looking back. Lena watched him go, feeling a tear roll down her cheek. The phone vibrated again—this time a message from her brother: «Need to talk urgently. Seems like I’m ruining my marriage.»
In the smoke-filled hookah bar, Andrei sat hunched over a glass of whiskey, looking older than his thirty-two years. A crumpled envelope with a court logo lay in front of him.
«Tanya filed for divorce,» he said instead of a greeting.
Lena sank into the chair opposite. Tanya—her school friend. It was Lena who introduced them five years ago, at her own birthday party. At the time, it seemed like fate: Tanya taught English, Andrei was involved in international projects. They were perfect for each other.
«Because of the apartment?» Lena asked quietly.
«If only,» Andrei scoffed bitterly. «Because of everything. You know what she wrote in the application? ‘Irreconcilable differences in matters of family life.’ Sounds nice, right? But in fact—I just screwed up.»
He took a big sip:
«Four years paying the mortgage. I worked like a dog—two jobs, side gigs. Always wanted the best: to have a home, to have everything ‘like people do.’ And yesterday I come home—to a note: ‘I’m tired of living with a bank account instead of a husband.'»
Lena was silent. She remembered how she and Tanya chose curtains for that apartment, how they painted the kitchen walls pale green, how they dreamed of a nursery…
«And the worst part,» Andrei ran his hand over his face. «She tried to reach out. Said: let’s go somewhere, just walk, talk… And I was always ‘no time, work, money.’ Thought, once we pay off the mortgage—we’ll live. And now…»
«What now?»
«Now I have to sell the apartment. Split the money. Start all over,» he pulled out his phone, showed a photo. «Look what I found yesterday while sorting things. Our first rental apartment. Remember that floral wallpaper? It was so ugly…»
In the photo, young Tanya and Andrei sat on a sagging sofa. Happy, in love.
«You know what’s funny?» Andrei put away the phone. «We were much happier then. In that rental dump with floral wallpaper. Because we were truly together.»
Lena remembered her conversation with Maxim in the cafe. «Love is trust,» he had said. And what if love is also the ability to be together? Just be, without thinking about apartments, accounts, and other nonsense?
«Listen, sis,» Andrei leaned forward. «I know things are tough with Maxim right now too. Mom told me about the inheritance, the apartment…»
«Mom told everyone?» Lena grimaced.
«She’s worried. After everything that happened with Dad…» he fell silent, choosing his words. «You know, I’m also a finance paranoid because of that. Always afraid I wouldn’t cope, wouldn’t provide, that it would be like then…»
«And in the end, you lost the most important thing.»
«Yes,» he nodded. «But you still have a chance. Maxim—he’s different. I see how he looks at you.»
«All men look the same at first,» Lena turned to the window. Rain drummed on the glass.
«No, wait,» Andrei covered her hand with his. «You know when I realized I had screwed everything up? Yesterday. Found Tanya’s diary. She wrote: ‘I don’t want this damn apartment. I want a husband. A family. I want us to have breakfast together in the mornings, not text about who paid for the internet.'»
He finished his glass:
«And I was always afraid. Afraid not to earn, not to provide, not to meet expectations. And in the end… In the end, I really didn’t meet them. Not financial ones, but human ones.»
Lena’s phone vibrated. A message from Maxim: «Sorry for the scene in the cafe. Can we talk?»…
Mom’s apartment smelled of cinnamon and apples—it meant she was baking her famous strudel again. A sure sign that a serious conversation was imminent. Mom always made something special when she was nervous.
«I’m seeing Nikolai Petrovich,» she said, pouring tea. «For six months now.»
Lena froze, the cup halfway to her mouth. Nikolai Petrovich was her mother’s boss at the school where she taught literature. A widower, an intellectual, always in a three-piece suit.
«And… how long were you going to tell me?»
«I was afraid,» Mom sat next to her. «After your father… After everything that happened… I thought you wouldn’t understand.»
«Mom,» Lena took her hand. Such a familiar hand, with an ink stain on the index finger—traces of grading notebooks. «Andrei and I just dream of you being happy.»
«He’s asking me to live with him,» Mom spoke softly, looking out the window. «He has his own house in the country. A garden, a gazebo… You know, I sometimes visit him on weekends. We drink tea in the garden, read poems…»
«And what’s stopping you?»
Mom turned to her, tears glistening in her eyes:
«Fear. The same old fear. When your father left, I swore I’d never again… That I’d be on my own, that I wouldn’t let anyone…»
«Control your life?» Lena bitterly smiled. «Sounds familiar.»
«That’s what I wanted to talk about,» Mom squeezed her hand. «I know about your conversation with Maxim. About the apartment.»
«From whom? From Andrei?»
«From you, dear. You know, Mom always feels when her kids are upset,» she smiled. «I look at you and see myself. The same fear, the same mistrust…»
«Mom, but you yourself said!» Lena jumped up. «‘Never let a man control your money,’ ‘Have your own corner,’ ‘Don’t be naive’… I remember!»
«Yes, I said that,» Mom stood up, hugged her from behind. «Because I was afraid. For you, for Andrei, for Katya… Wanted to protect you from my mistakes. And in the end…»
She walked to the cabinet, pulled out an old album:
«Look.»
In the photo, young Mom laughed, her head thrown back. Dad stood next to her, hugging her shoulders.
«You know what I realized recently? I don’t regret that time. Yes, he betrayed. Yes, he turned out to be a weak man. But those ten years when we were happy… They were worth it.»
«And the apartment? And us?» Lena’s voice trembled.
«And the apartment—it’s just walls,» Mom snapped the album shut. «Yes, it was hard. Yes, I had to start from scratch. But you know what? If I hadn’t taken the risk then, hadn’t trusted, hadn’t loved… I wouldn’t have you. So different, so complicated, so loved.»
She paused, then added:
«And now… Now I’m learning to trust again. At sixty, imagine?» she laughed. «And you’re afraid at twenty-six.»
«I’m not afraid,» Lena whispered. «I just…»
«Just want to control your life?» Mom shook her head. «Dear, that’s an illusion. You can’t control life. You can only live it. With all the risks, all the pain, all the love.»
The phone vibrated in her pocket. Again Maxim: «I’m at the entrance. Really need to talk.»
«Go,» Mom nudged her toward the door. «And I think I’ll go too. To Nikolai Petrovich. To his garden with a gazebo.»
Maxim stood under the entrance canopy, sheltering from the rain. In his hands—a bouquet of wildflowers, her favorites.
«I messed up so badly,» he said instead of greeting. «And I urgently need to show you something.»
«What?» Lena mechanically accepted the flowers.
«Get in the car,» he opened the door. «It’s not far.»
They drove in silence. Rain drummed on the roof, the windshield wipers rhythmically swung from side to side. Lena recognized the area—here they had looked at apartments a week ago.
«Maxim…»
«Wait,» he parked near a familiar building. «Let’s go.»
Fifth floor, an apartment with park-facing windows. The one Lena had fallen in love with at first sight. Maxim took out the keys.
«Where did you get these…?»
«I made a down payment,» he opened the door. «Yesterday.»
Lena froze on the threshold. The empty apartment was flooded with sunset light. That special light, because of which she had fallen in love with this place.
«You… what?»
«Bought it. Or rather, started buying it,» Maxim ran his hand through his hair. «You know, after our conversation in the cafe I thought a lot. About trust, about fears… About how at twenty-six you can be such a stubborn ram.»
«Is that about you or me?» Lena weakly smiled.
«Both,» he approached the window. «Remember, I told you about Kira? About how she sold our apartment?»
«I remember.»
«I didn’t tell you the main thing,» he turned to her. «Then I also insisted that the apartment be joint. ‘Love is trust,’ right? Actually, I was just afraid that she would leave. That if she didn’t have a financial tie, then…»
«Then she wouldn’t stay?»
«Yes. And you know what? She left anyway. Because no documents, no walls will keep someone who doesn’t want to stay.»
Lena approached him, hugged him from behind:
«And I was afraid that if I didn’t have my own corner, I’d have nowhere to go.»
«And now?» he turned to face her. «So we’ll keep being afraid? You—to stay, me—to let go?»
Thunder rumbled outside—the storm was starting. In the empty apartment, their voices echoed.
«You know what Mom told me today?» Lena leaned against his shoulder. «That you can’t control life. You can only live it.»
«Smart woman.»
«Yes. And also… She’s fallen in love again. At sixty. Can you imagine?»
«And what?»
«And she’s moving in with him. To a house with a garden and a gazebo.»
Maxim froze:
«Wow! And what about all those ‘never let a man’ and ‘have your own corner’?»
«And nothing,» Lena laughed. «She says life is more important than fears.»
They were silent. Raindrops trailed down the glass, their whimsical patterns reflecting the light of street lamps.
«Maxim?»
«M?»
«I want to buy this apartment. With you. Right now.»
He turned her to face him:
«Are you sure?»
«More than,» she pulled a folder from her purse. «I have documents from the bank. For the mortgage. And… I called the realtor. We can register it for both of us right away, without any ‘after the wedding.'»
«And what about…?»
«And nothing,» she pressed against him. «I don’t want to be afraid anymore. Neither to lose you nor to lose myself. I just want to live. With you. In this apartment with magical sunset light.»
A year later Tanya sat on the windowsill of their new apartment, thoughtfully looking out the window. Behind her, music roared—the housewarming party was in full swing.
«Hey, what are you thinking about?» Lena handed her a glass of wine.
«About the twists of life,» Tanya smiled. «A year ago, I was divorcing your brother, and today we’re meeting again. Only now he’s different. And I’m different.»
«And the apartment is different,» Lena winked. «Rental.»
«And that’s even better,» Tanya saluted with her glass. «No mortgage, no stress. Just living and seeing what happens next.»
From the other end of the room, laughter came—Andrei was enthusiastically telling Maxim about something. Probably about his new startup. After the divorce, he finally decided to leave his unloved job and start his own business.
«And your mom? How is she?» Tanya nodded toward the balcony, where Elena Viktorovna was arguing with Nikolai Petrovich about something.
«Beaming,» Lena smiled. «Imagine, she enrolled in gardening courses. Says, since she moved to a house with a garden, she has to match.»
«And you? Regret that you registered the apartment for both?»
Lena looked at her reflection in the window. Maxim’s reflection appeared next to hers—he approached, hugged her shoulders.
«You know, here’s the thing,» she turned to her friend. «It’s not about the apartment. And not about the documents. It’s about when you stop being afraid of losing, you start really living.»
«Philosopher,» Maxim snorted. «Come on, they brought the cake.»
«What cake? We didn’t order any…»
«And it’s a surprise from your mom. With the inscription ‘To the children who finally grew up.'»
Tanya burst out laughing: «Where’s my piece? I want to be considered grown-up too!»
Outside, thunder rumbled—the storm was starting. Just like a year ago, when they stood in the empty apartment and decided whether to take the risk.
They took the risk. And it was worth it.
