— I decided to sell the apartment, — Sasha sprawled on the couch, turning on the TV as if he had just announced the weather.
— Just like that? — Yana froze at the kitchen counter.
— The payments are unbearable. Better to sell before we sink into debt.
Three years ago, Sasha’s apartment had seemed like a great investment. A small one-room place on the outskirts, but theirs. He had taken out the mortgage before their wedding, and they chose to live in Yana’s apartment instead.
— How much will we get for it?
— About three million. After paying off the mortgage, we’d have around one and a half left.
Yana calculated. With the down payment and interest, they’d barely break even.
— Why not rent it out?
— Tenants are a hassle. We sell, register a car and a lot in Mom’s name, and you finish the renovation.
Something in his tone made Yana wary.
— What if I ask my parents to help? They just withdrew money from a deposit.
Sasha perked up.
— How much?
— Around seven hundred thousand. As a loan.
— Excellent! I’ll call the realtor tomorrow.
That evening, unease settled in Yana’s chest. The renovation money—eight hundred thousand—had come from her alone. Whenever joint expenses arose, Sasha had excuses.
Her phone chimed. Maria Romanovna: “Yanulya, I’ll drop by tomorrow. We need to talk.”
By afternoon, her mother-in-law arrived, setting a bag of pies on the table.
— Sasha is selling the apartment, I hear?
— He decided yesterday.
— Smart choice. No need for two apartments. It’s just wasted money.
— We planned to rent it out.
— A risk. Tenants cause trouble. Better to get a lump sum and invest wisely. I have great options.
— What options?
— We’ll discuss when Sasha arrives.
The door opened. Sasha entered with a man in a suit.
— Mom, you’re early. This is our realtor.
— Good afternoon! I have an offer—a young family ready to put down a deposit tomorrow.
Yana’s head spun. Sasha had just decided this yesterday.
— Remember the option I sent you? — Maria Romanovna prompted. — If we move quickly, we can reserve it.
— What option? — Yana’s voice sharpened.
— Just a plot of land, — Sasha mumbled. — Let me review the documents.
All evening, they discussed details. Rather, Sasha, his mother, and the realtor talked, while Yana silently observed. Why wasn’t Sasha negotiating the price? Why were extra documents involved? And why hadn’t he mentioned a plot of land before?
The next morning, Yana saw Maria Romanovna in Sasha’s car outside. Suspicion grew. She searched online and found the realtor’s listing: a suburban plot, fifteen hundred square meters. Special condition: “Possible registration in a third party’s name.”
She grabbed her phone.
— Mom, hold off on that money.
That evening, she called Natasha, her friend who worked in a bank. Natasha arrived with a determined look.
— Tell me everything.
Yana recounted the rushed sale, the secret land purchase, and her mother-in-law’s increasing influence.
— Have any documents been signed?
— No, they plan to tomorrow.
Natasha checked the listing. The plot already had an approved house project.
— Has Sasha been working late? Phone on silent?
— Yes. How did you know?
— Wake up. He’s preparing an escape route. He’s using your money, registering assets under his mom, and contributing nothing here.
Keys clattered in the hall. Natasha shut her laptop.
— Gotta run. We’ll talk tomorrow.
Sasha eyed her suspiciously.
— What was that about?
— Work stuff, — Yana dismissed.
At dinner, Sasha was oddly cheerful.
— Tomorrow, we take the deposit. Full payment in a week.
— And the money?
— We’ll put it in a bank. Mom said—
— Mom again? And what do you think?
— Mom wouldn’t mislead me.
— And that plot? The house you’re planning?
Sasha froze.
— Who told you that?
— Takes no genius to guess. You’ve planned everything—behind my back.
— Yana, it’s not like that—
— Then tell me the truth. Now.
Sasha hesitated before exhaling sharply.
— I got a job offer. In another city. Double salary.
— And you never told me?
— I was waiting until the sale.
— And I had no say in this?
— I was afraid you’d refuse.
— Of course, I’d refuse! You planned our future without me.
The doorbell rang. Maria Romanovna strode in.
— What’s going on? We finalize tomorrow.
— No, we don’t, — Yana said. — I canceled the money transfer. Without it, you can’t sell.
Maria Romanovna flushed.
— How dare you? We’ve all decided!
— No, you decided. I’ve had enough. Either we do this openly, or not at all.
— Sasha! Say something!
Sasha looked down.
— Are you with your wife or your mom? — Yana pressed.
— Don’t make him choose! — Maria Romanovna snapped. — He’s my son!
— And my husband. But you make every decision.
— Because I know best!
— That’s why you wanted everything in your name?
— To keep it safe!
— No, to control me. I’m done being a puppet.
Sasha exhaled.
— Mom, go home. We need to talk.
— Are you canceling everything?
— Just go. I’ll handle it.
After she left, silence settled.
— I really thought it was best, — Sasha murmured.
— Best for whom? Yourself? Your mom?
— For both of us. The salary is great.
— And I have plans too. Did you ever ask?
Sasha finally met her eyes.
— What plans?
— You never asked. Not once in two months.
— You’re right. I’m sorry.
Yana sighed.
— Let’s fix this. First, we cancel the deal. Then we talk. Together.
Sasha nodded.
— And the apartment?
— Rent it out. Cover utilities.
— And the job?
— We visit, see the conditions. Decide together.
— And your renovation?
— You’ll finally contribute.
Sasha chuckled, pulling her close.
— No more secrets. No more decisions behind my back.
— And your mom?
— I’ll handle her. Maybe not today?
Yana laughed.
— Tomorrow, for sure.