Roman was scrolling through the calendar on his phone, calculating dates. There was a little more than a month left until New Year’s. It was the perfect time to start planning the holidays.
“Natalie,” he called to his wife, who was reading a book on the couch. “Why don’t we invite everyone over to our place for New Year’s? My parents can come, Elena and her husband, maybe some other relatives too. We’ll have a big family celebration!”
Natalia looked up from her book and glanced at her husband.
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?” Roman frowned. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to,” Natalia answered calmly. “I don’t like big gatherings. I don’t want noise or fuss. Let’s celebrate together, just the two of us. Quietly and peacefully.”
“Natalie, come on, they’re family!” Her husband sat down on the edge of the couch. “New Year’s is a family holiday. Everyone gets together.”
“Roma, I said no. That is my final decision.”
“But why?” Irritation crept into his voice. “What would it cost you? It’s just once a year!”
Natalia closed her book and placed it on the coffee table.
“Listen carefully. I can’t stand having strangers in my home. It makes me uncomfortable. I get tired at work, and at home I need silence and peace. A large group of people is stressful for me. Do you understand?”
“But they’re not strangers! They’re my family!”
“They’re strangers to me,” Natalia said firmly. “I barely know them. I’ve seen them a couple of times. And I don’t want to spend the holidays with them in my apartment.”
Roman stood up and paced around the room.
“These are family traditions, Natalia. We’ve always gotten together for New Year’s. Always. Since childhood. It matters to us.”
“It matters to you. Not to me. I didn’t grow up in a large family. My mother and I celebrated together. That’s what feels comfortable to me.”
“But now you’re married!” Roman’s voice grew louder. “You have to take my traditions into account too!”
“I am taking them into account. You can go to your parents and spend the holidays there. I’ll stay home.”
“So you want me to choose between you and my family?”
“Don’t manipulate me,” Natalia said, rising from the couch. “I’m not forcing you to choose. I simply don’t want to host a crowd in my home. In my apartment.”
“Our apartment,” Roman corrected her.
“My apartment,” Natalia reminded him. “The three-room apartment is in my name. I inherited it from my grandmother. It is my property. And I decide who comes here and who doesn’t.”
Roman’s face turned red.
“I see. So that’s how it is. You’re throwing your ownership rights in my face.”
“I’m not throwing anything in your face. I’m simply reminding you of the facts. Roma, understand this: I’m not against your family. I’m just an introvert. It’s hard for me to be around a lot of people. That’s just how I am.”
“That’s selfishness, not a personality trait,” her husband snapped, then left the room.
For the next few days, a tense atmosphere hung over the apartment. Roman kept ostentatiously silent and answered questions with single words. At dinner he sat with a sour expression, and he watched television alone.
Natalia tried not to pay attention. She knew her husband would cool down. It wasn’t the first time he had sulked when he didn’t get what he wanted.
A week later, Roman softened. He began talking normally again and even joked a couple of times. Natalia breathed a sigh of relief. The crisis had passed.
They celebrated New Year’s together. Natalia cooked a delicious dinner and set the table. They watched a movie and drank champagne. A quiet, peaceful holiday. Exactly the way Natalia liked it. Roman, however, kept getting stuck on his phone several times, texting someone. Probably his parents, sending greetings. Natalia didn’t ask.
January passed, and February arrived. Work, home, work, home. The usual routine. Natalia worked as an analyst at a large company. Her schedule was packed, but the salary was good. She came home in the evenings exhausted, wanting only to lie on the couch and watch TV shows.
Roman worked as a manager at a trading company. He earned less than his wife, but enough. He was tired too.
In the evenings, they sat in separate rooms: Natalia in the bedroom with her laptop, Roman in the living room in front of the television. They met in the kitchen, cooked dinner, and exchanged a couple of phrases.
“How was your day?” Roman would ask.
“Fine. Yours?”
“Not bad either.”
And that was all. There were no deep conversations. But there were no conflicts either.
In early March, Roman entered the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. His face was serious.
“Natalie, I need to ask you something.”
Natalia looked up from her laptop.
“I’m listening.”
“My sister Elena is looking for an apartment. She’s moving out of our parents’ place and wants to live on her own. But she hasn’t found a suitable option yet. Could she stay with us for a couple of weeks? Just until she finds something?”
Natalia closed the laptop.
“No.”
“Natalie, wait, just hear me out. Our parents live far from her work. It takes her two hours one way every day. From here it’s close, half an hour at most.”
“Roman, I said no.”
“But why? She’s my sister! My own sister!”
“That’s exactly why. I don’t want outsiders in my home. We already discussed this at New Year’s.”
“That was about a whole crowd! This is one person! Elena is quiet, she won’t bother anyone. I promise.”
Natalia got up from the bed and went to the window.
“Roman, our home is not a dormitory. Not a hotel. It is my personal space. It is important to me that only you and I live here. No one else.”
“But it’s only two weeks! What would it cost you?”
“It would cost me my comfort. My peace. I would be nervous knowing that someone else was living in the apartment. Constantly.”
“That’s selfish, Natalia!” Roman’s voice rose. “Pure selfishness! My sister needs help, and you’re refusing!”
“Don’t call it selfishness. These are boundaries. Personal boundaries. I have the right to set them.”
“And I have the right to help my family!”
“Help her. Rent her a room for those two weeks. Or a hotel. Give her money for rent.”
“Why pay when there’s a spare room?”
“There is no spare room,” Natalia turned to her husband. “There is my apartment, where I want to live in peace. Without outsiders.”
Roman jumped up from the bed, his face red.
“You know what? You’re cold. Heartless. You can’t even help my sister!”
“I can. But not in that way.”
“Then how?!”
“With money. Advice. Anything. But not by letting her live in my apartment.”
“Go to hell!” Roman shouted and slammed the door.
For the next few days, her husband sulked again. He walked around with a sour face and snapped in response to questions. He ate dinner in silence, staring at his plate.
Natalia ignored it. Let him be offended. She would still be right.
A week later, the tension faded. Roman began speaking normally again. The subject of Elena never came up again. Natalia decided that his sister must have found housing on her own.
April. May. Summer arrived. Work, home, work, home. They took vacation at different times: Natalia in June, Roman in July. They rested separately, each with their own friends.
Natalia went to Sochi with a friend. The sea, the sun, the beach. No worries, no problems. She returned tanned and pleased.
Roman went to his parents’ village. He helped around the house and went fishing. He also returned in a good mood.
August. September. Autumn came unnoticed. It grew colder, and the rains began. Natalia took warm clothes out of the closet and put away the summer things.
One evening, on an ordinary weekday, Natalia was coming home from work. It had been a difficult day: reports, meetings, complaints from clients. Her head was buzzing.
On the way, she stopped by a store and bought groceries. She wanted to cook something simple for dinner. Maybe pasta. Or buckwheat with chicken.
Roman had promised in the morning to take the chicken out of the freezer. She hoped he hadn’t forgotten.
She took the elevator up to her floor, stepped out, took out her keys, and opened the door.
Then she froze.
There were suitcases in the hallway. Four large suitcases. Plus several bags and packages. The belongings clearly belonged to different people.
Natalia set her grocery bags on the floor. Her heart began beating faster. What was going on?
Voices came from the living room. Several people were talking and laughing.
Natalia walked down the corridor and looked into the living room. Roman and Elena were sitting on the couch. An elderly couple sat in the armchairs: Lyudmila Sergeyevna and Viktor Pavlovich, her husband’s parents. Cups of tea and cookies were on the coffee table.
All four turned toward the door and saw Natalia.
“Oh, Natashenka is home!” Lyudmila Sergeyevna exclaimed. “Come in, come in! We’re having some tea.”
Natalia stood in the doorway, unable to believe her eyes. Roman’s parents. His sister. Suitcases in the hallway. Everything looked as if the guests intended to stay for a long time.
“Roman,” Natalia called quietly. “Come here.”
Her husband rose from the couch, his face tense.
“One moment,” Roman said to his relatives and stepped into the corridor.
Natalia closed the living-room door and turned to her husband. Her hands were trembling with fury.
“What is this?” she asked, pointing at the suitcases and trying to keep her voice low. “What are all these people doing in my apartment?”
“Natalie, it just happened,” Roman looked away. “My parents came unexpectedly. Elena came with them. I couldn’t just not let them in.”
“You couldn’t just not let them in?” Natalia felt everything boiling inside her. “Roman, we discussed this twice! I clearly said no one in the apartment!”
“But they’re my parents! I couldn’t leave them on the street!”
“Where do they live? In another city? Can’t they go back home?”
“Well… they came for a few days. To visit.”
“To visit?!” Natalia’s voice broke into a shout. “To visit my apartment, without my permission, for several days?!”
“Quiet, they’ll hear!”
“Let them hear! I don’t care!” Natalia stepped toward him. “I told you twice: no! No outsiders in my home! And you brought an entire group here!”
“They’re not outsiders! They’re my family!”
“They are outsiders to me!” Natalia felt tears rising in her eyes, but she held them back. “And what do these suitcases mean? How many days is this visit supposed to last?”
Roman hesitated.
“Well… a week. Maybe a little more.”
“A week?!” Natalia laughed hysterically. “You brought three people into my apartment for a week without asking me?!”
“Natalie, understand, I couldn’t refuse my parents!”
“You couldn’t refuse them! But you could deceive me! You could violate my boundaries!”
“I didn’t deceive you! It just… happened.”
“It just happened!” Natalia pointed toward the living room. “This is my apartment, not your family hostel!”
“Please don’t shout!”
“I will shout!” Natalia felt herself losing control. “You violated every agreement we had! You brought people into my home without permission!”
The living-room door opened slightly. Lyudmila Sergeyevna’s head appeared.
“Children, what’s going on? Is everything all right?”
“Everything is fine, Mom,” Roman smiled tightly. “We’ll be right there.”
His mother-in-law looked Natalia up and down with an appraising gaze, then closed the door.
Natalia inhaled deeply and exhaled. She needed to calm down. To pull herself together.
“Roman, I’m asking you one last time. Do you understand what you’ve done?”
“I let my parents come visit. What’s so terrible about that?”
“Without my consent. In my apartment. For a week.”
“Natalie, they’re good people! They won’t bother anyone, I promise!”
“They won’t bother anyone? Roman, are you mocking me? Three adults in a three-room apartment! This is a huge invasion of my life!”
“Just put up with it for a little while. It’s only a week.”
“I am not obligated to put up with anything! This is my apartment! I did not consent to guests!”
Roman sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“Listen, Natalia. This is my family. My parents. My sister. I can’t kick them out.”
“You can’t? Fine. Then leave with them. All of you. Right now.”
“What?! Are you serious?!”
“Completely. My apartment, my rules. I didn’t agree to guests. If you want to be with your family, go ahead. But not here.”
“Natalie, you can’t kick me out! I live here! I’m your husband!”
“A husband who doesn’t respect my boundaries. Who deceives me. Who brings people here without permission.”
“I didn’t deceive you!”
“You did! You knew perfectly well that I was against guests. But you brought them anyway. You presented me with a fait accompli. That is called manipulation and deception.”
Roman turned red and clenched his fists.
“You know what? You are obligated to accept my family! You’re my wife!”
“I am not obligated!” Natalia shouted. “I don’t owe anyone anything! This is my apartment! By the documents! By the law!”
“To hell with you and your apartment!” Roman turned around and yanked open the living-room door.
Lyudmila Sergeyevna, Viktor Pavlovich, and Elena were still sitting in their places. From their faces, it was clear they had heard the entire conversation.
“Mom, Dad, Lena,” Roman entered the living room. “Everything is fine. Natasha is just tired from work. She’s nervous.”
“I am not nervous,” Natalia followed him in. “I am assessing the situation soberly. You have thirty minutes to gather your things and leave the apartment.”
Lyudmila Sergeyevna gasped and clutched her heart.
“What?! You’re throwing us out?!”
“I am. Because you are here without my permission.”
“But Roman invited us!” Elena cut in. “This is his home too!”
“No,” Natalia said calmly. “This is my home. The apartment is registered in my name. I inherited it from my grandmother. Roman lives here because I allowed him to. But he has no right to receive guests without my consent.”
“What insolence!” Viktor Pavlovich exclaimed. “We are his parents! Parents have the right to visit their son!”
“They do. With the consent of the apartment owners. And I did not give my consent.”
“Natalie, stop!” Roman grabbed his wife by the arm. “You can’t act like this!”
Natalia pulled her arm free.
“I can. And I will. Thirty minutes. Pack your things.”
“And if we don’t leave?” Lyudmila Sergeyevna asked defiantly.
“I’ll call the police. I’ll explain that people entered my apartment without permission. I think the officers will sort it out.”
“You’ve lost your mind!” Roman shouted. “You’ve completely gone crazy!”
“No,” Natalia turned to her husband. “I am completely sane. And I am protecting my boundaries. What you failed to do—protect my interests—I am now doing myself.”
“We are family!” Lyudmila Sergeyevna jumped up from the armchair. “Family! And you’re throwing us out like dogs!”
“Not like dogs. Like people who invaded my personal space. Twenty-eight minutes left.”
Viktor Pavlovich rose heavily.
“Let’s go, Lyuda. We won’t humiliate ourselves. It’s clear we’re not welcome here.”
“But, Vitya…”
“I said let’s go!”
Roman’s parents headed toward the hallway. Elena shot Natalia a hateful look and followed them.
Roman stood in the middle of the living room, his face pale.
“You’ll regret this,” her husband said quietly.
“I won’t,” Natalia replied. “The only thing I regret is not realizing earlier what kind of person you are.”
“What kind of person am I?!”
“A manipulator. A liar. A person who doesn’t respect other people’s boundaries. A person who puts his family’s wishes above his wife’s comfort.”
“You bi—!” Roman shouted.
“Maybe. But one who protects her territory.”
Roman ran out of the living room. Natalia heard noise in the hallway. His parents were saying something, Roman was answering. The sounds of suitcase zippers and rustling bags followed.
The young woman went to the window and looked out at the evening city. Her hands were still shaking. Adrenaline was still raging in her blood.
But inside, there was calm. A strange, cold calm belonging to someone who had made a decision.
About ten minutes later, the front door slammed. Then again. Silence.
Natalia went out into the hallway. The suitcases were gone. The bags were gone. Empty.
She walked through the apartment. Living room, kitchen, bedroom. Quiet everywhere. No one.
She returned to the kitchen and sat at the table. She looked at the grocery bags, which were still standing by the entrance. She got up, brought them in, and began putting everything away.
Roman had not taken the chicken out. It was still frozen in the freezer.
Natalia took it out and put it in the microwave to defrost. Dinner would be ready in an hour.
She switched on the kettle, took out a mug, made tea, and sat at the table.
The phone rang. Roman. Natalia looked at the screen and declined the call. Then she blocked the number.
A minute later, Lyudmila Sergeyevna called. Declined and blocked as well. Elena. Blocked.
An unknown number. Probably Viktor Pavlovich. Blocked.
At last, the phone fell silent.
Natalia drank her tea in small sips and looked out the window. Lights were turning on in the neighboring buildings. People were coming home from work, cooking dinner, watching television.
Ordinary life.
The microwave beeped. The chicken had defrosted.
Natalia got up and began cooking. She chopped vegetables, fried the chicken, and boiled buckwheat. She did everything mechanically, without thinking.
She would have to think later. For now, she simply needed to finish the evening.
She ate dinner, washed the dishes, took a shower, and went to bed.
Tomorrow she would need to change the locks. In case Roman still had a key. Then a lawyer. Divorce. Division of property. Good thing the apartment was in her name. There wasn’t much to divide.
Natalia closed her eyes. She fell asleep quickly, without sleeping pills.
In the morning, she woke up to her alarm. She got up, washed her face, and dressed. She called a locksmith and arranged for him to come that evening.
At work, a colleague asked:
“Natalie, why do you look so thoughtful?”
“Oh, nothing,” Natalia smiled. “I decided to get divorced.”
“Wow! Seriously?”
“Seriously. Yesterday I realized I can’t keep living with this person.”
“What happened?”
“He brought his relatives into my apartment. Without asking. Even though I was categorically against it.”
“And what did you do?”
“I kicked everyone out. Him included.”
Her colleague whistled.
“Impressive. Good for you. You defended your boundaries.”
“I did,” Natalia nodded. “It’s a pity it had to come to that. But there was no other way. We’re different people. We’re not meant to continue together.”
That evening, the locksmith came and changed the locks.
The next few days were filled with errands. A lawyer, divorce documents, an application at the registry office. Everything was quick and clear.
Roman called from different numbers and sent messages. Natalia did not answer. Once, he came to the building and rang the intercom. Natalia did not open the door.
A week later, a court summons arrived. A divorce with no property dispute. Natalia did not claim Roman’s belongings, and Roman did not claim the apartment. Everything was clean and fast.
Another month later, she received the divorce certificate.
Natalia held the document in her hands, examining the stamps.
“Free,” she said aloud.
And smiled.
Life went on. Work, home, meetings with friends. Natalia signed up for yoga and began going twice a week.
The apartment was quiet and peaceful. Exactly the way Natalia loved it.
No suitcases in the hallway. No strangers’ voices. No invasions of personal space.
Only her and her rules.
And it was wonderful.
