Elina placed the cezve with coffee on the stove and listened to the quiet around her. A new day was already beginning beyond the window, while indoors, the spacious apartment carried that calm stillness only large rooms have in the early morning. Her two-room apartment in the city center was a source of pride — the result of seven years of steady work. Every square meter had been earned through careful budgeting — first the down payment, then years of mortgage payments that took up half her salary as a marketing specialist.
Now that chapter was closed. The apartment was fully hers. Two years ago, when Lyosha proposed, it had made sense for him to move in. Renting didn’t make sense when Elina already owned a home. Lyosha had readily agreed — on his engineer’s salary, renting a place alone in the city would have been difficult.
The coffee began to bubble gently. Elina removed it from the heat just as Lyosha walked in, already dressed for work.
“Elin, Mom’s coming today,” he said, adjusting his collar. “She’ll stay a couple of days, if that’s all right.”
“Of course,” Elina said warmly, pouring the coffee. “I haven’t seen Raisa Semyonovna in ages.”
Lyosha gave her a grateful smile, kissed her on the cheek, and headed out. Elina finished her coffee and got ready for the day. Her mother-in-law’s visits weren’t uncommon — Raisa lived in a small one-room apartment with her daughter, Svetlana, and sometimes came to stay for a break.
That evening, after a long and draining day at work, Elina returned to find an unfamiliar pair of slippers in the hallway and her mother-in-law’s voice coming from the kitchen.
“Lyoshka, why is the wardrobe in the bedroom so big? It looks like there’s more space than things to put in it.”
“It’s just more convenient this way,” Lyosha replied mildly.
Elina entered the kitchen. Raisa Semyonovna stood and greeted her with a polite hug. She looked as always — composed, tidy, and watchful, quietly observing everything around her.
“Elinochka, dear! Such a beautiful apartment — and so much space!” she said admiringly.
“Thank you, Raisa Semyonovna. How’s Svetlana?”
“She’s working hard. Things are a bit tight in the one-room apartment. She’s already thirty-two, you know… but we manage.”
Elina sat at the table while Lyosha brought out sliced vegetables. She noticed how her mother-in-law studied the wide kitchen, the glazed balcony, the high ceilings — features that were a far cry from the modest apartment she shared with her daughter.
“And the bathroom — it’s separate from the toilet?” she asked.
“Yes,” Elina replied, offering a small smile.
After dinner and tea, with conversation meandering from work to neighborhood issues, Raisa Semyonovna gently set her teacup down and cleared her throat.
“You know,” she began carefully, “I’ve been thinking… what if you exchanged this apartment for two smaller ones? One for you two, and one for me? That way we’d all have our space. I wouldn’t be a burden to Svetlana, and you two would still have your own home.”
Elina froze. Was this a serious proposal? The apartment she had worked for, saved for, paid off in full — being casually discussed like a shared asset?
“What are you talking about, Mom?” Lyosha asked, surprised.
“Well, just consider it,” Raisa Semyonovna continued with quiet enthusiasm. “You don’t need that much space right now. One room would be enough, and I’d be nearby to help when grandchildren come along.”
Elina carefully set her cup down, keeping her tone neutral.
“That’s an interesting thought, but it’s something we’d need to think through carefully,” she said. “It’s late — maybe we should all get some rest.”
Raisa Semyonovna agreed and went to prepare for bed. As Elina cleared the table, the conversation echoed in her mind. She wasn’t angry — just surprised at how lightly her mother-in-law had proposed something so personal. Did they truly not see the apartment as hers alone?
Later that evening, Lyosha came back to the kitchen.
“Was Mom serious?” he asked in a hushed voice.
“I don’t know,” Elina said. “You can ask her tomorrow.”
“She’s probably just trying to help… She and Svetlana really are cramped.”
Elina nodded faintly but said nothing. She understood discomfort, but the suggestion felt like a boundary was being crossed.
The next day, Elina left early for work. The day passed as usual, though her thoughts kept returning to last night’s conversation. When she came home, she heard her husband and mother-in-law talking in the kitchen.
“…Elina won’t mind,” Raisa Semyonovna was saying. “She’s practical, she’ll understand it’s best for everyone.”
“Mom, it’s her apartment,” Lyosha replied hesitantly.
“You’re married — everything’s shared now. And besides, it’s not like we’re asking for a handout. Just a fair trade. I can even chip in if needed.”
Elina paused, not entering the room. Their voices were calm, but the conversation stung. This wasn’t a passing remark. It was a plan — being discussed without her.
She quietly walked away and sat on the bed in silence, gathering her thoughts. It wasn’t just about the apartment. It was about how easily others had laid claim to something she had built on her own.
A while later, Lyosha peeked in.
“We’re having tea — want to join us?”
“I’ll be there in a minute,” she said.
When she entered the kitchen, both Lyosha and Raisa Semyonovna looked up.
“Sit with us, Elinochka,” said her mother-in-law with a bright smile. “We were just discussing plans.”
“I heard what you were discussing,” Elina said calmly. “About exchanging the apartment.”
Raisa Semyonovna looked momentarily startled but recovered quickly.
“Oh, well — since you heard, we can all talk it over together.”
Elina sat down.
“Let me clarify something. This apartment was bought before the marriage, entirely with my own earnings. I paid for every part of it, and Lyosha moved in after the mortgage was paid off.”
“Yes, but now you’re a family—” Raisa began.
“Being a family doesn’t change property ownership,” Elina said gently but firmly. “This home isn’t something open for discussion or trade, no matter how well-intentioned the idea.”
“Elin, Mom was only making a suggestion,” Lyosha added.
“And I’m setting a boundary,” Elina said. “This apartment isn’t something to negotiate or reallocate. I hope that’s clear.”
Silence filled the room. Raisa Semyonovna finally stood.
“I didn’t mean to offend you, Elinochka. I just thought—”
“I understand. But it’s best if we respect each other’s space — literally and figuratively.”
That evening, Lyosha quietly mentioned that his mother would leave in the morning.
“She said she’s sorry. She understands now.”
“Good,” Elina said, sipping her tea.
“Are we… okay?” Lyosha asked.
“We will be — if we remember that boundaries are there for a reason.”
He nodded, more thoughtful than before.
That night, Elina sat on the balcony with her book. The apartment was peaceful again. No whispered discussions, no uncertain lines. Just her home — as it had always been.
And surprisingly, that firmness didn’t break their family. It made it stronger — because respect had finally taken root where assumptions used to grow.
