— Why isn’t my name in the will? — her mother-in-law’s voice sliced through the morning silence of the kitchen like a knife through butter.
Marina froze, her coffee cup halfway to her lips. She watched as Lidia Petrovna majestically sat at their kitchen table, flipping through documents from the folder Marina had left there the night before. Documents she had no right to touch. The papers from the notary about the inheritance that Marina had received from her late grandmother — a three-bedroom apartment in the city center.
Pavel, Marina’s husband, sat between them, absorbed in his phone. He pretended nothing was happening, pretending his mother wasn’t rummaging through his wife’s personal documents, pretending the tension in the air wasn’t thick enough to cut with a knife.
— This is my inheritance from my grandmother, — Marina answered calmly, setting her cup on the table. — Why should your name be on it?
Lidia Petrovna looked up at her. There was something cold, calculating, in her eyes, but her lips stretched into the familiar sugary smile.
— Sweetheart, we’re family. In a family, everything is shared. Pavel, tell your wife it’s wrong to hide property from family — that’s betrayal.
Pavel looked up from his phone. His face showed the suffering of a man who wished he could disappear.
— Mom, this is Marina’s inheritance. From her grandmother. What do we have to do with it?
— What do you mean, what’s it to us? — Lidia Petrovna threw up her hands. — I raised you alone! I’ve given everything for you! And now your wife gets an apartment and doesn’t even think about registering me there? Am I a stranger?
Marina watched this spectacle carefully. Three years of marriage had taught her to recognize Lidia Petrovna’s manipulations from the first note. Her mother-in-law was a master at this. She knew how to hit the soft spots, find weaknesses, and turn any situation into a drama with her as the victim.
— The apartment is registered to me, — Marina said firmly. — And it will stay registered to me. It’s a memory of my grandmother.
— A memory! — Lidia Petrovna snorted. — Memories are in photo albums. But an apartment — that’s real estate. Worth millions. And you want to own it all by yourself? What if something happens to you? Where will the apartment go? To your relatives?
— Mom, stop it, — Pavel weakly tried to intervene.
— I won’t stop! — Lidia Petrovna raised her voice. — I have the right to know what’s happening in my son’s family! Marina, you need to transfer the apartment to three people. To you, Pavel, and me. That’s only fair.
Marina stood up from the table. She calmly walked over to her mother-in-law, took the folder of documents, and pressed it to her chest.
— No, — she simply said. — That won’t happen.
Lidia Petrovna stood up too. They faced each other — the young woman with a straight back and the older woman’s face twisted with fury.
— Is that so? — her mother-in-law hissed. — So now you’ve decided to show your character? Fine. Let’s see how you’ll sing when I tell everyone what you’re really like. A greedy, heartless person who deprives her elderly mother-in-law!
— Tell whoever you want, — Marina shrugged. — Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go to work.
She left the kitchen, leaving Lidia Petrovna and Pavel alone. From the hallway, she could hear her mother-in-law starting her usual tirade about ingratitude, how she had sacrificed everything for her son, how now she was being thrown out onto the street. Pavel was saying something quietly, trying to calm his mother down.
Marina knew how this would end. Pavel would come to her in the evening with a guilty look and try to convince her to “make peace with mom.” He would talk about family values, about respecting elders, about how “mom didn’t mean it, she’s just worried about our future.”
And that’s exactly what happened. In the evening, while Marina was preparing dinner, Pavel came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.
— Marina, let’s talk calmly, — he began.
— About the apartment? — she didn’t turn around, continuing to chop vegetables.
— Yeah. Listen, maybe we should think about it? Mom is right about some things. We’re family. And in a family, everything should be shared.
Marina set the knife down and turned to face her husband.
— Pavel, this is my grandmother’s apartment. She left it to me. Not to us, not to your mom, but to me. And I’m not going to share it with anyone.
— But mom…
— Your mom lives in a two-room apartment in a good neighborhood. She has a pension and savings. Why does she need a share of my inheritance?
Pavel looked away.
— She just wants to feel secure. To know she has a backup option.
— A backup option for what? — Marina crossed her arms over her chest. — Pavel, your mother is manipulating you. Both you and me. She’s used to you fulfilling all her wishes. But this is my inheritance, and I will decide what to do with it.
Pavel was silent for a moment, then said something that finally pushed Marina over the edge:
— You know, sometimes I feel like you’re deliberately setting me against mom. She doesn’t ask for much. She just wants to be sure about the future.
Marina felt anger welling up inside her.
— I’m setting you against her? Me? It’s your mother who’s barging into our life, going through my documents, demanding a share of my inheritance! And I’m the one to blame?
— Don’t shout, — Pavel winced. — The neighbors will hear.
— Let them hear! — Marina couldn’t hold back. — Let everyone know that your mother is a manipulator and a blackmailer!
Pavel turned pale.
— Don’t you dare talk about my mother like that!
— And don’t you dare defend her when she’s wrong!
They stood facing each other, breathing heavily. In Pavel’s eyes, Marina saw hurt, anger, and something else. Fear? Yes, fear. Fear of his mother, of her reaction, of having to choose sides.
— I’m going for a walk, — Pavel said hoarsely, and left the kitchen.
Marina was left alone. She sat down at the table, covering her face with her hands. For three years, she had endured her mother-in-law’s antics. For three years, she had tried to improve their relationship, sought compromises, made concessions. But Lidia Petrovna always wanted more. First, she demanded that they spend every weekend with her. Then she insisted on having a key to their apartment — “just in case.” And now, she was going after the inheritance.
The next day, Marina made a decision. She took the day off work and went to the notary who had been handling the inheritance. Viktor Andreevich, an elderly man with kind eyes, listened to her story and shook his head.
— Unfortunately, these situations are not rare, — he said. — Relatives often think they have a right to someone else’s inheritance. But the law is on your side. The apartment is registered to you, and no one can force you to transfer it.
— What if my husband demands a divorce? Could he claim the apartment?
— No, if the apartment was inherited, it is not considered joint property. In the event of a divorce, it will remain yours.
Marina breathed a sigh of relief. Then she asked one more question:
— Is there any way to protect the apartment? So that no one can claim it?
Viktor Andreevich thought for a moment.
— There are a few options. You can make a will, or transfer it to a trusted person with the right to live there for life. But the most reliable way is to simply not give in to manipulation and stand your ground.
Marina thanked the notary and left. The autumn air was fresh and cool. She walked through the city, thinking about what awaited her at home. Surely, Lidia Petrovna had already worked on Pavel. He would probably greet her with reproaches and accusations.
And that’s exactly what happened. When Marina returned home, a full council was waiting for her in the apartment. Pavel sat on the couch with a stone face. Next to him sat Lidia Petrovna, and across from them… Marina couldn’t believe her eyes. There, sitting across from them, was Alla, Pavel’s sister, who lived in another city and only visited them once a year for New Year’s.
— Ah, here she is, — Lidia Petrovna sighed theatrically. — Alla came specifically to talk to you.
— About what? — Marina walked into the room, but didn’t sit down. She stood, arms crossed.
— About your behavior, — Alla looked at her disapprovingly. — Mom called me in tears. She told me how you treat her. How you refuse to share with the family. Marina, this isn’t right.
— What exactly isn’t right?
— You inherited a huge amount and want to keep it all to yourself. Doesn’t mom and Pavel deserve your trust?
Marina looked at her husband. He sat with his head down, silent. He didn’t even try to defend her.
— This is my inheritance from my grandmother, — Marina repeated patiently. — I don’t have to share it with anyone.
— So this is how you think! — Lidia Petrovna threw up her hands. — “Mine,” “I don’t have to”! Where’s the love? Where’s the trust? Where are the family values?
— Family values are not about taking someone else’s, — Marina shot back.
— Someone else’s? — Lidia Petrovna jumped up from the couch. — Are we strangers to you? Is my son a stranger to you?
— Pavel is not a stranger to me. But the apartment belongs to me.
Alla stood up too.
— You know what, Marina? You’ve shown your true face. A greedy, calculating person who married my brother only for the benefit!
— For what benefit? — Marina laughed. — I earn more than Pavel. I had my own apartment before we got married. What benefit is there?
— Don’t pretend! — Alla stepped up to her. — You’ve been pretending to be quiet, you got close to Pavel, and now you’re showing your teeth!
Marina looked her straight in the eye.
— Alla, you came from another city to take my inheritance? Seriously? Maybe you want a share too?
Alla recoiled as if slapped.
— How dare you!
— I dare to protect what’s mine, — Marina raised her voice. — And if you don’t like it, that’s your problem!
She turned and walked to the bedroom. Behind her, she heard:
— Pavel, are you just going to leave this?
— Son, how can you let her treat us like this?
— Pavel, are you a man or what?
Marina closed the bedroom door behind her and sat on the bed. Her heart was pounding wildly. She knew she had crossed a line. After this scandal, her relationship with her husband’s family would be permanently damaged. But she couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t let them walk all over her.
Half an hour later, Pavel came into the bedroom. He looked exhausted and older by ten years.
— They left, — he said.
— And what now? — Marina asked.
Pavel sat next to her on the bed.
— Marina, I understand your position. I really do. But mom… she’s my mom. I can’t just turn my back on her.
— I’m not asking you to turn your back. I’m asking you to protect me from her attacks.
— But she’s right about something. We’re family. And in a family, everything should be shared.
Marina turned to face him.
— Pavel, be honest. If you had inherited the apartment, would your mother be demanding a share?
Pavel fell silent. The silence stretched on.
— Of course, — Marina bitterly smiled. — If the inheritance were yours, it would be “a man’s thing,” and no one would dare to interfere. But since it’s mine, it’s “all for everyone.”
— That’s not true…
— That’s exactly how it is. Your mother thinks I should share because I’m a woman. A daughter-in-law. Who needs to know her place.
Pavel stood up from the bed.
— You know what? I’m tired of being stuck between two fires. You sort it out yourselves.
And he left the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
Marina was left alone. She lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Her mind was racing, wondering if maybe this marriage was a mistake. That Pavel would never be able to stand up to his mother. That she was doomed to fight with Lidia Petrovna her whole life.
The following days passed in a cold war. Pavel hardly spoke to Marina, came home late, and left early. Lidia Petrovna called him ten times a day, and Marina overheard fragments of their conversations: “heartless,” “greedy,” “only thinks about money.”
A week later, Marina couldn’t take it anymore. She packed her things and moved into the very apartment that had caused all the trouble. The apartment was spacious, bright, with high ceilings and large windows. Her grandmother had kept it in perfect condition, so Marina didn’t need to change much.
The first night in the new apartment, she cried. It hurt and it was unfair. It hurt that her husband hadn’t supported her. It was unfair that her mother-in-law had turned a joyful event — inheriting the apartment — into an excuse for a scandal.
The next day, Pavel came to see her. He stood at the door with a bouquet of flowers and a guilty look.
— Can I come in? — he asked.
Marina silently stepped aside, letting him in.
Pavel walked into the living room and looked around.
— Beautiful apartment, — he said. — Your grandmother had good taste.
— She did, — Marina agreed.
They sat on the couch. Pavel twisted the bouquet in his hands, unsure of where to put it.
— Marina, let’s talk. No shouting, no accusations. Just talk.
— Go ahead.
— I love you. And I love mom. And it’s so hard for me when you two fight. I feel like a traitor either way. If I support you, mom gets upset. If I support mom, you leave. What should I do?
Marina stayed silent, then said:
— Pavel, your mom is an adult. She’s lived her life, has her own home, her own money. I’m not taking her property. I’m not kicking her out of the house. I just want to manage my inheritance. Is that so hard to understand?
— But she’s my mom…
— And so what? Does that give her the right to demand a share of my inheritance? Pavel, imagine for a second that my mom demanded a share of your salary. What would you say?
Pavel thought for a moment.
— That’s different.
— How is it different? Because my mom doesn’t manipulate me? Doesn’t force me to choose between her and you?
Pavel lowered his head.
— I don’t know what to do, Marina. Honestly, I don’t know.
They sat in silence. Then Marina said:
— Pavel, I’ll give you time to think. Decide what’s more important to you — our marriage or trying to please mom. When you decide, call me.
Pavel nodded and left, leaving the flowers on the table.
A week passed. Pavel didn’t call. Marina buried herself in her work, trying not to think about what was happening. She arranged the apartment, bought new furniture, curtains, and dishes. In the evenings, she read or watched TV shows. She tried not to think that maybe her marriage was falling apart.
Then something unexpected happened. On Saturday morning, Lidia Petrovna came to see her. Alone, without Pavel.
Marina opened the door and looked at her mother-in-law in surprise.
— Can I come in? — Lidia Petrovna’s tone was unexpectedly calm, without the usual aggression.
Marina let her in. They went into the kitchen. Marina made coffee and set cookies on the table. They sat across from each other, silent.
Finally, Lidia Petrovna spoke:
— You know, Marina, I came to talk. Without Pavel, without witnesses. Just us.
— I’m listening.
Lidia Petrovna took a sip of coffee and continued:
— I’ve been controlling Pavel his whole life. Since childhood. His father left when he was five, and I raised the kids on my own. It was hard, very hard. I got used to making all the decisions, controlling everything. And when Pavel married you, I got scared. I was afraid I’d lose him.
Marina stayed silent, letting her vent.
— I saw the way he looks at you. How he loves you. And I got scared that I’d become unnecessary. That you two would live your own lives, and I’d be left alone. So I meddled, demanded attention, caused scandals. And when I found out about the inheritance… That was the last straw. I thought: now you have everything, and I’m definitely not needed.
— Lidia Petrovna, we never said you weren’t needed, — Marina said softly. — There are just boundaries. Personal boundaries that need to be respected.
Her mother-in-law nodded.
— I understand. Now I understand. Pavel… he’s walking around like a lost soul. He doesn’t eat, he doesn’t sleep. He’s always asking about you. But he’s afraid to call. He thinks you won’t forgive him.
— And what do you think?
Lidia Petrovna looked her in the eyes.
— I think you love my son. And he loves you. And it’s foolish to destroy a family because of my ambitions. Marina, I’m sorry. For everything. For the scandals, for the demands, for interfering in your life. The apartment is yours, and I have no right to it. Please forgive me.
Marina felt tears welling up in her eyes. She hadn’t expected such a turn of events.
— I forgive you, Lidia Petrovna. But on one condition. No more manipulation. No more attempts to drive a wedge between us. No more demands. We will visit you, we’ll help if needed. But our family — it’s our family. Do you agree?
Her mother-in-law nodded.
— I agree. And one more thing… Please call Pavel. He’s beside himself.
After Lidia Petrovna left, Marina sat at the kitchen table, processing what had just happened. Then she took her phone and dialed her husband’s number.
— Marina? — Pavel’s voice was hoarse, tired.
— Pavel, come over. Let’s talk.
— Really? You… you’re ready to talk?
— Come over, — she repeated and ended the call.
Pavel arrived twenty minutes later. He looked thinner and older. When he saw Marina, he rushed to her, hugged her, and pressed her to him.
— Forgive me, forgive me!