“A suitcase for Tamara Gennadyevna? Yes, that’s right. Please sign here.”
Daria absentmindedly signed her name on the courier’s terminal screen and only then noticed the huge dark blue suitcase the man had already rolled into the hallway.
“Is there anything else?”
“Just this.”
The courier left, the elevator door closed, and Daria stood for a few more seconds next to someone else’s luggage.
Tamara Gennadyevna never came to visit with suitcases. She lived just twenty minutes away, in her own two-bedroom apartment, and if she stayed late at her son’s place, she would just call a taxi home.
Her phone vibrated.
A message from Leonid.
“Mom is moving in with us today. I’ll explain everything tonight.”
Daria read it twice.
Then she called her husband.
He declined her call and texted:
“In a meeting. Can’t talk.”
Another message followed:
“Just don’t start with anything yet. We’ll discuss it calmly tonight.”
Daria looked at the suitcase.
It was strange. The move had already happened, but somehow the discussion was scheduled for the evening.
She didn’t reply.
She had a work meeting in ten minutes, so the suitcase stayed by the shoe cabinet, and Daria closed herself in her office.
It was hard to call that office a real, separate room. A small space with a window facing the courtyard, a desk, a chair, a bookshelf with documents, and a narrow wardrobe. Three days a week, Daria worked from home and spent almost the entire day here.
That’s exactly why, when choosing their apartment, she and Leonid had turned down a more spacious two-bedroom and picked this layout instead.
A bedroom, a living room, and a tiny office.
They didn’t have a guest room at all.
After her meeting, Daria went out to get some water and saw the suitcase again.
Now just the sight of it annoyed her.
Especially since just a week earlier, Tamara Gennadyevna had been sitting in their living room, describing in detail how she wanted to redo her kitchen: replace the old light fixture, order new cabinet fronts, and finally get rid of the uncomfortable table.
She even showed them photos.
There hadn’t been a single word about not wanting to live in her own apartment anymore.
Around six in the evening, a message came in from her mother-in-law.
“Dashenka, I’ll come by later. Did they deliver the suitcase?”
Daria replied briefly:
“Delivered.”
No “we’re waiting for you,” no “of course.”
Leonid came home at half past seven.
He walked in, saw the suitcase, and the first thing he asked was:
“Mom hasn’t arrived yet?”
“No.”
“Strange. She was supposed to be here earlier.”
He took off his jacket and headed to the kitchen.
Daria followed him.
“Now, explain.”
Leonid opened the fridge and took out a bottle of water.
“Mom decided to rent out her apartment.”
Daria waited for him to go on.
“And?”
“And she’ll be living with us.”
He said it so casually, as if he were announcing his mom had switched internet providers.
“From what date?”
Leonid looked at her.
“From today.”
“I got that already. I’m asking, when did we decide this?”
“Dasha, please don’t start with the phrasing.”
“Then just answer.”
He poured water into a glass.
My mom and I had a conversation this week. She told me her apartment feels way too big for just one person. The utility bills keep going up, and she gets lonely in the evenings. Honestly, what’s the point of holding on to two rooms all to herself when she could rent the place out and get some extra income?
Daria leaned her hip against the edge of the counter.
“That’s a great idea. Let her rent out one room and live in the other.”
“Why do you have to say it like that?”
“So what option are you suggesting for me?”
“Mom will stay here.”
“For how long?”
Leonid paused for a moment.
“For now, that’s the plan.”
“This ‘for now’—does that mean a week, a month, a year?”
“Most likely, it means permanently.”
Now everything was finally clear.
Daria nodded.
“No.”
“No what?”
“She’s not moving in.”
“The suitcase is already here.”
“The suitcase can be taken back.”
Leonid set his glass down.
“You don’t even want to consider it?”
“Consider what? Having a third adult permanently living in our apartment? I’ve considered it.”
“We have three rooms.”
“We have a bedroom, a living room, and my office.”
“The office could be emptied out.”
“And where would my workspace go?”
“In the living room.”
Daria looked at her husband with genuine surprise.
“Are you serious?”
“What’s the problem? We’ll put a desk by the window.”
“So I’ll be holding meetings next to the TV, the couch, and someone constantly walking through the room?”
“Mom won’t bother you.”
“So you’ve already decided that, too?”
Leonid let out an irritated sigh.
“I’m offering a reasonable solution.”
“For whom?”
He didn’t answer.
Daria continued on her own:
“Tamara Gennadievna rents out her apartment, gets the money, and lives here for free. And I lose the room I work in. Is that right?”
“Why do you have to say ‘for free’?”
“Is she planning to contribute to our expenses?”
Leonid looked away.
The answer was clear.
“She’s my mother.”
“And?”
“I’m not going to ask her for rent.”
“And what is she going to do with the rental income?”
“Spend it on herself. Trips, shopping, savings. Why does it matter to you?”
Daria let out a quiet chuckle.
“Now it does matter.”
The doorbell rang.
Leonid went to answer it.
Tamara Gennadievna walked in, cheerful, wearing a light coat and carrying a small shoulder bag.
“Finally! I thought the traffic jams would never end.”
She spotted the suitcase.
“It’s here, perfect.”
Then she looked at Daria.
“Why do you look so serious?”
“Lyonya and I are talking.”
Her mother-in-law quickly shifted her gaze to her son.
“Ah.”
That one little sound was enough for Daria to understand: Tamara Gennadievna knew perfectly well that her daughter-in-law hadn’t been informed.
“Where should I put my things?” she asked.
“Leave them in the hallway for now,” Daria replied.
“Why there? I thought we’d unpack right in the room.”
“What room?”
Tamara Gennadievna hesitated slightly.
“In the office.”
Daria turned to her husband.
“So, you’ve already picked out the room, too.”
“Dasha, let’s not have an argument today,” her mother-in-law said. “I’m tired.”
“Then you should go home tonight.”
Tamara Gennadievna froze.
Leonid stepped forward.
“Wait.”
“I’m not forbidding your mom anything. She has her own apartment.”
Her mother-in-law frowned.
“I’ve already arranged things with a realtor.”
“That has nothing to do with me.”
“There’s a viewing scheduled for Saturday.”
“Go ahead and show it.”
— But what if people want to rent it immediately?
— Then you should decide in advance where you’re going to stay.
Tamara Gennadyevna glanced over at her son.
Leonid rubbed his chin thoughtfully with his palm.
— Mom, let me really drive you home tonight.
— So now it’s my fault too?
— No one said that.
— Sure sounds like it.
His mother abruptly pulled the handle of her suitcase.
The wheels caught on the edge of the rug.
Leonid helped her roll it out onto the landing.
Daria stayed out of it.
Fifteen minutes later, her husband returned alone.
— Happy now?
— About what?
— Mom left feeling hurt.
— She came here to live without my agreement. What result were you expecting?
Leonid walked into the living room and tossed his phone onto the couch.
— She’s sixty-two years old.
— I know.
— She raised me on her own after the divorce. She helped when I was in school, then with my first car, with renovations. Should I just tell her to live alone now because my wife doesn’t want to give up her office?
Daria sat in the armchair across from him.
— You can help your mom as much as you want—drive her places, pay for things out of your own money, spend time with her. But this is something else entirely that you offered.
— It’s just a room.
— In a shared apartment.
— Exactly. Shared. Not your personal property.
Daria nodded.
— That’s exactly where we’ll start.
They bought the apartment after they got married.
Before that, they lived together for four years: the first year they dated and spent nights at either Daria’s or Leonid’s place, then they rented an apartment together, and after another year got legally married.
They worked towards their own apartment together.
They both contributed to the down payment. They took out the mortgage jointly and split the payments and major expenses more or less equally.
Daria never said: “This is mine.”
Leonid didn’t either.
That’s why it felt especially strange to hear that somehow the idea of the apartment being ‘shared’ worked only one way.
— Since the apartment is shared, Daria said, decisions about it get made together.
— That’s what I’m trying to do—work things out with you.
— No, you’ve already figured it out with your mom, posted an ad, and arranged her move. With me, you’re just talking about the aftermath.
Leonid shrugged.
— I thought you’d be okay with it.
— So you decided not to ask?
— Because I knew this would happen.
Daria studied him carefully.
— So you expected me to disagree from the start.
He didn’t respond.
That probably should’ve ended the conversation.
Daria stood up.
— I have work tomorrow. I’m going to bed.
— That’s it?
— For today, yes.
The next morning they hardly spoke.
Leonid left earlier.
Daria was working from home and around noon she got a call from Tamara Gennadyevna.
She didn’t answer.
A minute later, a message arrived:
“I don’t want to interfere in your relationship. If my presence is really a problem, just say so directly.”
Daria read the message and put the phone away.
She had no intention of answering a question that had already been addressed the day before.
That evening, Leonid announced that on Saturday, he was still going to show his mother’s apartment.
— Go ahead.
— And if someone wants to rent it out?
— That’s her decision.
— Then she’ll need somewhere to live.
— Still her decision.
Leonid gave a humorless smile.
— Convenient position.
— Very. I take responsibility for my decisions. Grown-ups are responsible for theirs.
The next day, he didn’t bring up the subject again.
Daria thought her husband had finally understood.
She was wrong.
On Saturday morning, Leonid went to visit his mother. He didn’t return home until after three.
“People have been found.”
Daria was putting freshly washed clothes away in the wardrobe.
“Already?”
“A young couple. They like the apartment.”
“That’s good.”
“They’re ready to move in within a week.”
Daria paused.
“Did Tamara Gennadyevna sign the contract?”
“Not yet.”
“Then there’s still time to sort out the housing situation.”
“Dasha.”
She closed the wardrobe door.
“What?”
“Maybe we should give it a try after all?”
“No.”
“Not even just for a couple of months?”
“No.”
“You’re being stubborn just for the principle of it.”
“And why is your mother moving out of her own apartment?”
“We’ve already talked about this.”
“Then why are you repeating the suggestion?”
Leonid fell silent.
Daria walked past him.
This was exactly how she intended to end these endless, pointless arguments from now on.
No more repeating the same argument ten different ways.
Two days later, Tamara Gennadyevna turned down the prospective tenants.
Daria found out about this by chance from her husband.
She decided the whole story was over.
In reality, it was just postponed.
A week later, during dinner, Leonid said:
“Mom found someone else.”
Daria put down her fork.
“And?”
“They’re willing to pay more.”
“Great.”
“She wants to accept the offer.”
“Let her.”
“Dasha, that means she’ll really have to move here.”
“Are you sharing new information or just bringing up my office again?”
Leonid looked at her seriously.
“Why can’t you compromise just once?”
Daria wasn’t surprised anymore.
“Because it’s not about comfort. I work there.”
“Moving the desk is not a disaster.”
“It isn’t for you.”
“Mom has helped me all my life.”
“Then why don’t you help her yourself?”
“I am helping her.”
“By using my office?”
Leonid set his mug down on the table with a thud.
“Either you accept my mother or you leave!”
After those words, the room became very quiet.
Leonid stared at his wife, clearly waiting for her response.
He probably expected her to explode, remind him about their mortgage, demand an apology, or start insisting she had a right to live there too.
Daria just looked at him for a few seconds.
Then she picked up her phone.
“Alright. I’ll leave.”
Leonid blinked.
“What?”
“You gave me two options. I chose the second.”
She opened her messages and started texting someone.
“Are you serious right now?”
“Yes.”
“Dasha, stop it.”
“I didn’t start anything.”
Her phone buzzed softly.
Daria read the reply.
“I have a viewing for an apartment after work tomorrow.”
Now Leonid no longer looked angry.
“What apartment?”
“A rental.”
“Where did you find it?”
“From an ad.”
“You found it in two minutes?”
“No.”
He studied his wife carefully.
“So you were already looking before?”
“I’d been checking out options.”
“Why?”
Daria set her phone on the table.
“Because this isn’t the first time you’ve made decisions for both of us.”
Leonid started to speak, but she continued:
“In the spring, you agreed to lend our car to your cousin for two weeks and only told me the evening before he arrived. Before that, you decided we’d spend New Year’s at your mother’s, even though I’d already made plans with my parents. Then you let your friend use our garage box to store his motorcycle without even talking to me first.”
“And what does that have to do with divorce?”
“Because every time, I was presented with a done deal, and only then was I asked to be understanding.”
He sat down.
“So, have you already decided to get a divorce?”
“Back in the spring, I just wanted to know what would happen with the apartment if we ever got to that point.”
Darya wasn’t trying to hide anything.
After the whole issue with the car, she started to seriously wonder why Leonid seemed to think that ‘shared’ in their marriage meant he could make decisions without ever checking with her.
She hadn’t filed any papers or planned any secret escapes.
One day, she just scheduled a consultation at the bank.
She asked them what options exist in case of a divorce if the apartment is still mortgaged: things like selling it with the bank’s approval, paying off the mortgage early during the transaction, or one spouse buying out the other’s share if the bank gives the okay and changes the loan obligations.
Afterwards, she checked the market prices for similar apartments in their neighborhood.
Not because she was planning to leave tomorrow.
But because she wanted to know what truly belonged to her, not just in words but in reality.
Leonid didn’t know about any of this at the time.
Now, he found out.
“So you were preparing an escape route for months?”
“No, I just spent a few months knowing that I have options.”
“And you stayed silent.”
“Because back then, we were still a family—not just two people making a business deal.”
“And now?”
Darya looked at him.
“Now you’ve told me to leave our shared apartment if I won’t let your mother move in.”
“I lost my temper.”
“Maybe.”
“And because of one sentence, you’re willing to break up our marriage?”
Darya stood up from the table.
“No. One sentence just made a lot of things clearer.”
Leonid followed her.
“Wait. If you leave, does the apartment stay with me?”
Darya stopped in the kitchen doorway.
That question, she realized, was the most telling of all.
“No.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean exactly what I said.”
“But you just said you’d leave.”
“I’ll leave to live somewhere else. I’m not giving you my share as a gift.”
The worry on Leonid’s face was now unmistakable.
Darya returned to the table and opened her saved notes on her phone.
“There are two realistic options. One: you buy out my share.”
“How?”
“With money.”
“Very funny.”
“I’m not joking.”
“Where am I supposed to get that kind of money?”
“That’s for you to figure out.”
“What about the mortgage?”
“If the bank approves the transfer of the obligations to you, you continue to pay it off yourself.”
Leonid ran his hand over the back of his head.
“Do you even realize how much money that is?”
“I do.”
She knew the approximate market value of the apartment and how much debt was left.
Leonid quickly calculated the difference in his head too.
His expression changed.
He couldn’t buy out Darya’s share right away.
Even with extra financing, there was still the mortgage—which they had handled together until now. Paying it alone would mean juggling all the other expenses for the apartment, the car, and everyday life.
And now, there was no way for Leonid’s mother, Tamara Gennadyevna, to move in for free and have everything comfortable.
“There’s a second option,” Darya said.
“What is it?”
“We sell the apartment, pay off what’s left on the mortgage, and split the remaining money according to our shares.”
“And where do we live?”
“That’s up to each of us to decide.”
“Just like that?”
“Not exactly easy. But it’s possible.”
Leonid stepped away to the window.
“You calculated everything ahead of time.”
“I just learned the steps in advance.”
“Normal people talk first.”
Darya raised her eyebrows.
“Seriously?”
He understood and turned away.
There was nothing left to say.
The next day, Daria really did go to check out a rental apartment.
It was a small one-bedroom, just ten minutes from her work. The building was older and the kitchen was smaller than her current place, but the apartment itself was clean, the landlord seemed decent, and he was happy to sign a formal lease.
Daria didn’t hand over any money right away.
She asked for a day to think.
When she returned home, Leonid was sitting in the living room.
“Where have you been?”
“Looking at an apartment.”
“And?”
“It’ll do.”
“You’re really planning to move out?”
“You told me to just yesterday.”
“I said that just because I was upset.”
“I heard you.”
“Then why are you still doing this?”
Daria took off her coat.
“Because now it’s not about your mom anymore.”
Leonid frowned.
“Then what is it about?”
“It’s about the fact that you thought you could just say ‘leave’ and I’d be too scared to lose the apartment.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?”
He couldn’t find an answer right away.
Daria didn’t wait for one.
That evening, she gathered all her documents into one folder: the mortgage agreement, the statement, and the apartment paperwork.
Not a suitcase.
Not clothes.
Just documents.
Leonid noticed.
“What’s that for?”
“Tomorrow, I want to double-check with the bank about the procedure.”
“You’re in a rush.”
“No, actually I’ve been taking my time for a while.”
In the morning, Tamara Gennadievna called.
Daria saw her name on the screen, but Leonid picked up the phone.
He didn’t talk for long.
Then he came into the kitchen.
“Mom wants to come over.”
“Why?”
“To talk things over.”
“Let her come.”
Tamara Gennadievna showed up an hour later.
No suitcase.
Daria noticed this right away.
Her mother-in-law sat down on the couch and folded her hands in her lap.
“Lyonya said you’re planning to sell your apartment.”
“We’re considering it.”
“Because of me?”
Daria decided not to make things easier for her.
“Because of Leonid’s decision.”
Tamara Gennadievna looked at her son.
“And what did you tell her?”
Leonid grimaced.
“Mom, it doesn’t matter.”
“If it’s come to selling the apartment, then it matters.”
Daria sat quietly across from her.
“He told me to either agree to you moving in, or to leave.”
Her mother-in-law was clearly taken aback.
“Lyonya, are you out of your mind?”
“I was angry.”
“And why do you need to sell the apartment?”
“Because Daria wants to split the property.”
“Wait a minute.”
Tamara Gennadievna quickly glanced at her daughter-in-law.
“There’s no need to sell anything.”
“Why not?”
“Come on, you have a nice apartment.”
“We know.”
“I don’t have to move in right away.”
That sounded unexpectedly casual.
Daria didn’t say anything.
Her mother-in-law hurried on:
“I haven’t signed a lease with the new tenants yet. I’ll call today and tell them I changed my mind.”
Leonid looked at his mother.
“But you said it was too hard living alone.”
“Not so hard that you two should sell the apartment because of me.”
“What about the utility bills?”
“I’ll manage.”
“But you said evenings are so lonely?”
Tamara Gennadievna waved her hand irritably.
“Oh please, Lyonya, I’m not helpless.”
Daria glanced at her husband.
He got the message too.
Just a few days ago, Tamara Gennadievna was supposedly a woman who desperately needed to move in with her children because of her age, expenses, and loneliness.
But the moment it became clear that her son might have to give up his familiar apartment and handle the mortgage by himself, that need suddenly disappeared.
“So, you could keep living in your place?” Daria asked.
“Of course I can.”
“Then why move at all?”
Her mother-in-law paused for a moment.
“I thought it would be better for everyone.”
“Everyone?”
Tamara Gennadievna realized what the question was really about.
“Well, for me, obviously.”
Now that sounded honest.
She wanted to rent out her own apartment, collect the money, and live with her son without paying for another place.
Still, Tamara Gennadievna wasn’t planning to change her life much. If her son’s place ever felt cramped, uncomfortable, or too noisy—that would just be someone else’s problem.
As long as the arrangement was free, she liked it.
But when the thought of selling the apartment and having to actually come up with a different solution appeared, the appeal vanished.
“I’ll cancel the viewings today,” she said.
“Alright,” Daria replied.
“So, is this settled then?”
Daria looked at Leonid.
“About you moving in—yes.”
Tamara Gennadievna caught the distinction.
“What about the rest?”
“That’s between us.”
Her mother-in-law didn’t interfere anymore.
Fifteen minutes later, she left.
Leonid walked her out and came back to the living room.
“See? Problem solved.”
Daria looked at him.
“No.”
“Mom is staying at her place.”
“I heard.”
“Then what else is wrong?”
“Do you really not get it?”
Leonid sat across from her.
Daria didn’t want to list out all the past incidents again. He already knew them.
“You gave me an ultimatum.”
“I’ve already said a hundred times that I was too harsh.”
“Not a hundred. Twice.”
He gave a wry smile.
“Okay. Twice.”
“And that’s more than enough.”
“I take back what I said.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“Why not?”
“Because yesterday you were sure I wouldn’t go anywhere.”
Leonid went silent.
Daria went on:
“If I had cried, begged you to change your mind, and agreed to move out of the office, your mom would be picking her moving date already.”
“Not necessarily.”
“Absolutely.”
He didn’t argue.
Outside, it was slowly getting dark. The yard lights flickered on.
“What do you want?” Leonid asked.
Daria thought for a while.
Not because she didn’t know.
Mostly because, for the first time, he was asking instead of deciding for her.
“I want to live apart for a while.”
He looked up suddenly.
“Why?”
“To figure out if I even want to continue this marriage.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.”
“A week? A month?”
“Lenya, don’t set a deadline for me.”
He clenched his fingers.
“What about the apartment?”
“We do nothing with it for now. We’ll keep paying like before. If we end up divorcing, we’ll go through everything officially and with the bank.”
“What if I don’t want to sell?”
“Then we’ll discuss buying out shares and other legal options.”
This was past the point of a family argument, where you slam a door and pretend everything’s normal an hour later.
Leonid finally realized that.
Two days later, Daria signed a rental contract.
She didn’t take everything with her.
She just grabbed some clothes, her laptop, a few personal items, documents and a couple of boxes.
Leonid helped her carry them to the car.
He stood in silence at the parking lot.
“So you really made up your mind.”
“Yes.”
“I thought you’d cool off.”
Daria shut the trunk.
“That’s exactly why I’m leaving.”
He frowned.
“Why exactly?”
“You always assume that my ‘no’ is temporary. That if you push just a little, wait it out, I’ll eventually give in.”
Leonid didn’t reply.
Darya got into the car.
Her new apartment greeted her with silence and the scent of freshly mopped floors.
She unpacked her things, set her laptop on the small table by the window, and checked the internet connection.
Working here turned out to be quite comfortable.
Late in the evening, Leonid messaged her:
“Mom has finally dropped the idea of renting out the apartment.”
Darya read the message.
She replied:
“Alright.”
A minute later, a new message arrived:
“You can come back. I understand everything now.”
Darya stared at the screen for a long time.
Then she placed her phone next to her laptop and opened her work calendar for the next day.
There was a meeting scheduled for the morning.
She was done making important decisions just because someone else gave her a deadline.
A few days later, Leonid came by himself.
He called ahead.
Darya gave him permission to come up.
He walked in without flowers, bags, or any showy gifts. For that, she was actually grateful.
He sat down in the kitchen.
“I talked to my mom,” he said.
Darya waited.
“Turns out, she never planned to give up her apartment for long. If she didn’t like it with us, she just wanted to stop renting and return.”
“Makes sense.”
“For her.”
“Of course.”
Leonid ran his hand across the table.
“It never occurred to me that your office would disappear right away, while her backup plan would always be there for her.”
Darya didn’t add anything.
For the first time, he realized the obvious on his own.
“I really did make the decision for you,” he went on. “And I was sure you’d grumble but go along with it.”
Darya looked up at him.
“Exactly.”
“And when you didn’t agree, I decided to push you.”
“Exactly.”
He paused for a moment.
“I don’t want to sell the apartment.”
“I’m not dreaming of selling it either.”
“Then maybe we just don’t do anything for now?”
“When it comes to the apartment, let’s not.”
Leonid understood that this didn’t mean she was coming back just yet.
“And what about us?”
Darya leaned back in her chair.
“We’ll see about us.”
This time, he didn’t demand an immediate answer.
He didn’t set a date.
He didn’t offer two options that were only convenient for him.
He just nodded and stood up.
He paused at the door.
“When you agreed to leave so quickly… at first, I thought you were bluffing.”
“I noticed.”
“Then I thought you’d be back in a day.”
Darya opened the door.
“And that was your biggest mistake.”
Leonid looked at her, seemed about to say something, but changed his mind.
He went out onto the landing.
Darya closed the door.
Her phone was lying on the kitchen table.
On the screen was a message from the landlord: he let her know a technician would come tomorrow to check the old outlet near the window.
Just a normal household issue.
Darya replied she’d be home after six and put her phone away.
No ultimatums.
No surprise suitcases delivered without notice.
And no more decisions being shared with her only after they were already made.
