“Hey, Anya! You going to sign this?” Sergey handed her the credit agreement.
Anya nodded and took the pen. Both their names were listed as co-borrowers in the documents. Everything was honest. Transparent. Their shared dream of owning a home was almost within reach.
“We worked like horses for five years,” Anya said as she signed the last page. “And finally, our own fortress.”
“Yeah,” Sergey looked away strangely. “I’ll stop by the bank tonight to drop off the paperwork.”
Anya smiled. Her poor husband had been running around with these documents like a mother hen with her egg. She decided not to insist on going with him; she was already swamped at work, and there was dinner to make. Tatyana Ivanovna had promised to come by that evening.
Her mother-in-law came over often. Sometimes a little too often. She’d give advice, check how Anya managed the house. Anya tolerated it—for Sergey’s sake.
“Did you buy the chicken?” Sergey asked. “Mom likes it with crispy skin.”
“I bought it,” Anya sighed. “I got everything. Go on, you’ll be late.”
After her husband left, Anya noticed he’d forgotten to close his laptop. His email was open on the screen. She hadn’t planned to read his messages, but then she spotted a strange subject line: “Real Estate Agreement, Final Version.”
She opened it.
Her heart stopped. Her eyes couldn’t believe what she read. Her hand trembled as she gripped the mouse.
“According to this agreement, the apartment at the address… becomes the property of citizen Tatyana Ivanovna Novikova…”
She read the document three times. There was no doubt. Five years of saving, side jobs, giving up vacations… For what? So the apartment would go to her mother-in-law?
Anya closed the email and stepped away from the computer. Her mind was buzzing. She wanted to scream, cry, call Sergey… But she held herself back.
“Calm down, Anya. Don’t do anything foolish.”
That evening Tatyana Ivanovna arrived. She brought a pie.
“Anya, why do you look so pale? Are you sick?”
“No,” Anya forced a smile. “Just tired.”
“Oh, my son has really worn you out,” Tatyana Ivanovna shook her head. “But I brought you a pie! Your favorite, with cabbage.”
“Does she know? Of course she knows. They’re all in on it.”
Sergey came home late, looking pleased, his eyes shining.
“Everything’s handed in!” he hugged his wife. “We’ll have a housewarming soon.”
“Yes,” Anya nodded. “A housewarming.”
“Mom, are you staying?” Sergey asked.
“No, no, I need to go,” her mother-in-law bustled. “I’ll stop by tomorrow to help Anya with the cleaning.”
“Of course you will. Got to keep an eye on your property.”
Anya couldn’t sleep that night. She lay next to Sergey, thinking about betrayal. Five years. She thought they were building a future together. A home, then children… But it turned out Sergey had been playing his own game all along.
In the morning, she made a decision. No drama. No scenes. She would handle everything smartly.
On her lunch break, Anya went to the bank and got a new card. Then she called her friend Lena.
“Lena, I need your help.”
“What happened?” her friend’s voice sounded worried.
“It’s a long story. Can you look into rental apartments? Something affordable, but nice.”
“Did you and Sergey fight?”
“Not exactly,” Anya swallowed the lump in her throat. “Just check, okay?”
“Okay, Anya. I’ll look into it.”
At home, Anya acted like everything was normal. She cooked dinner, smiled, and asked her husband about his day at work. But inside, she was boiling.
“How could he? How could both of them do this to me?”
“Anya, you’ve changed lately,” Sergey mumbled into his plate. “Did something happen?”
“Everything’s fine,” she smiled. “I’m just tired.”
“Oh, I see,” he immediately lost interest in the conversation. “By the way, Mom was asking which curtains we want for the living room.”
“Curtains? For OUR living room? Seriously?”
“She can pick whatever she likes,” Anya replied, then quickly added, “I mean, I trust her taste.”
In the evening, Tatyana Ivanovna stopped by. She brought bags, catalogs, and fabric samples.
“Anya, look! I brought some options for our… I mean, your apartment!”
“A little Freudian slip there, Tatyana Ivanovna?”
“Very nice,” Anya said, taking the catalog. “Which ones would you pick yourself?”
“I think these, the ones with the pattern. And a sheer white curtain to go with them.”
“Well, if that’s what you think…” Anya shrugged. “After all, you… I mean, we will be living there.”
Her mother-in-law gave her a strange look. Sergey cleared his throat.
“Mom, how about some tea?”
Over tea, they discussed the renovations. Tatyana Ivanovna commented on the color of the bathroom tiles as if she was already moving in.
“I’ve been doing some thinking,” Anya said. “We still have four more years left to pay off the rest of the mortgage.”
“Don’t worry,” Sergey brushed it off. “I’ve got it all calculated.”
“Sure you do. Calculated everything. Just didn’t include me in your calculations.”
The next day, Anya called a lawyer.
“Lena, can you give me the contact for your guy who specializes in divorces?”
“Anya…” Her friend’s voice trembled. “Are you serious?”
“More than ever.”
“But… you and Sergey… What happened?”
“I’ll tell you later. Not over the phone.”
The lawyer turned out to be very competent. He explained the process of dividing property, and what to expect regarding the loan obligations.
“If you’re co-borrowers, both of you are responsible for the payments,” he said. “But you might be able to negotiate something with the bank.”
“And what if I can prove the apartment isn’t actually registered to us?”
“That would change things.”
At home, Anya found an old phone and set up call forwarding from her main number. At work, she opened a new account for her salary. She was methodically preparing for her new life.
One day, she caught Sergey and his mother whispering together in the kitchen.
“She doesn’t suspect a thing, right?” Tatyana Ivanovna was asking.
“No,” Sergey shook his head. “Everything’s going according to plan.”
“Going according to plan, is it? Well, I have a plan too.”
Lena found a new apartment—it was small but cozy. Anya paid the deposit.
“So when are you moving in?”
“As soon as I get the keys to our… or rather, their new apartment.”
“Anya, I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t be. I’m not scared anymore.”
That evening, she bought groceries to make a special dinner. Tomorrow, she’s supposed to get the keys to the apartment. And then, she’ll put on her own little show.
Sergey came home in a great mood.
“Anya, tomorrow’s the big day!” he tried to hug her.
“Yes,” she pulled away. “A very big day.”
“Mom’s coming to celebrate. I’ll get some champagne.”
“Get it,” Anya smiled. “We’ll celebrate properly.”
That night, she lay awake with her eyes open. Thoughts kept swirling in her mind.
“Tomorrow everything changes. For all of us.”
In the morning, Sergey rushed off to the bank. Anya packed her things — only the essentials. Clothes, documents, a photo album with her parents. Everything else can be bought later.
Her phone pinged — a message from Lena.
“I took the keys, the apartment’s ready. Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Thank you.”
Anya put on a new dress. Red, bold — something she hadn’t worn in ages. She put on lipstick and styled her hair. She made dinner: Sergey’s favorite steak and a salad her mother-in-law adored.
The doorbell rang.
“Anya!” Tatiana Ivanovna beamed. “I’m early, here to help you out.”
“Thanks, but I’ve already done everything,” Anya smiled.
“You look so… dressed up today,” her mother-in-law eyed her from head to toe.
“A special day calls for a special outfit.”
Tatiana Ivanovna started setting the table.
“You stand here, Sergey goes there, and I’ll sit here.”
“As you wish. After all… it’s your celebration.”
Her mother-in-law froze.
“What do you mean, my celebration?”
“Well, you’re the new owner of the apartment now,” Anya kept smiling.
“What nonsense is this?” Tatiana Ivanovna turned pale. “Why would you think that?”
“Just a thought,” Anya shrugged. “You’ve been so involved in picking curtains, choosing the tiles…”
The front door slammed.
“Welcome the new homeowner!” Sergey burst into the room with a bouquet and a bottle of champagne. “Anya, we did it!”
He stopped, glancing from his wife to his mother.
“What’s going on here? Did you two have a fight?”
“No,” Anya shook her head. “We’re just talking. About the apartment.”
“Perfect!” He didn’t notice the tension. “Here they are, our keys!”
Sergey placed a set of keys and documents on the table.
“Let’s have a toast to the new home!”
They sat down together. Anya served the food, Sergey opened the champagne.
“To our fortress!” he raised his glass.
“To your fortress,” Anya corrected him.
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said,” she took a sip. “By the way, this champagne is delicious. Must be expensive, huh?”
“Anya, what’s going on?” Sergey frowned.
“Nothing. I’m just curious: how much does it cost to celebrate betrayal?”
Silence fell. Tatiana Ivanovna lowered her eyes. Sergey turned crimson.
“What betrayal? What are you talking about?”
“About this,” Anya pulled a printout of the contract out of her bag, “the apartment is in your mother’s name. And here I was, paying a loan for someone else’s property for five years like a fool.”
Sergey froze, his mouth open.
“You read my email?”
“That’s what matters to you? Seriously?”
“Sergey, tell her,” Tatiana Ivanovna whispered.
“Tell me what?” Anya smirked. “That it’s for my own good? Or that I misunderstood the situation?”
Sergey set down his glass.
“Anya, this is temporary. For tax reasons. Later, Mom will transfer it to us.”
“Of course,” Anya nodded. “And when will that happen? In a year? Five? Never?”
“Why are you saying that?” Tatiana Ivanovna’s voice trembled with tears. “We’re family.”
“Family doesn’t lie to each other,” Anya retorted. “Family doesn’t steal from each other.”
“No one’s stealing anything!” Sergey snapped. “It’s just a legal formality!”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you would have made a scene! Like you are now!”
“This isn’t a scene,” Anya shook her head. “This is goodbye.”
She stood up from the table.
“Congratulations on your new place. The apartment is great, the loan… not so much. But you’ll manage. Together.”
“What are you talking about?” Sergey jumped up.
“I’m talking about filing for divorce. And I’m moving out. Right now.”
“Anya, are you crazy?” Sergey grabbed her hand. “What divorce? Over some paperwork technicality?”
“Let go,” she freed herself. “A technicality? Really? You lied to me for five years. Made plans behind my back.”
Tatyana Ivanovna jumped in:
“Anya, don’t be hasty! We can talk this over…”
“There’s nothing to discuss,” Anya picked up her bag. “The lawyer said since the apartment is in your name, I’m owed compensation for all the money I put in. But you know what? Keep it. Think of it as payment for a life lesson.”
“What lesson?” Sergey blocked her way out. “You’re not leaving!”
“I am. I already have,” she looked him straight in the eyes. “Mentally, I left last month when I found that contract. Physically, it’s happening right now.”
“But what about the loan?” Tatyana Ivanovna blurted out. “You’re a co-borrower!”
“Now that’s the interesting part,” Anya smiled. “I talked to the bank. They’re aware of what’s going on. And since the apartment isn’t legally mine, I can challenge the loan agreement. Or transfer my share to you. Your choice.”
Sergey turned pale:
“You wouldn’t do that.”
“Already done. The papers are signed, the application is filed. The apartment is all yours now. And so is the loan.”
She walked past her husband and headed for the door.
“Wait!” Sergey ran after her. “You’ve got it all wrong! Mom was just helping us! It was for our future!”
“Our future?” Anya turned around. “Or yours and hers?”
Tatyana Ivanovna began to cry:
“Seryozha only wanted the best! We were just afraid you’d take the apartment if something happened…”
“So that’s how it is,” Anya nodded. “You never trusted me from the start. You thought I was after your property?”
“No, but…” Sergey stammered. “Anything can happen in life.”
“Exactly. And now ‘anything’ has just happened. Goodbye.”
She left, closing the door softly behind her.
Three months later, Anya was sitting in a cafe with Lena. Her friend looked at her with admiration:
“How are you even holding it together? If I were you…”
“Would have cried? Broke down?” Anya smiled. “I did. But you know, after that night, I felt… free.”
“Does Sergey call you?”
“Every day for the first two weeks. Then less. Now just once a week,” she sipped her coffee. “He wants me to come back. Promises to put the apartment in my name.”
“And what do you say?”
“What am I supposed to say? Trust is like glass. Once you break it, you can’t put it back together.”
Her phone vibrated. On the screen: ‘Mom’.
“Mom’s calling,” Anya answered. “Hi! Yes, I’ll be there today. Of course, with a pie. Love you.”
She put her phone away.
“My parents are glad I moved back to the city. Dad helped me get a job at his company.”
“You’re lucky with your folks,” Lena sighed. “Isn’t renting tough?”
“At first, it was hard. But you know what? Now I’m saving up for my own place. No co-borrowers needed.”
Six months later, Anya received her divorce documents. That very day, Sergey messaged: ‘Can we meet? Let’s talk.’
She didn’t reply.
A month later, she ran into her ex-mother-in-law at the supermarket by chance. Tatyana Ivanovna looked older and worn out.
“Anya,” she approached hesitantly. “How are you?”
“I’m well, Tatyana Ivanovna. And you?”
“We’re managing…” she hesitated. “Serezhenka is working a lot. He’s paying off the loan.”
“I’m glad for you,” Anya nodded. “Sorry, I have to go.”
“Anya!” her mother-in-law called after her. “I… we… we were wrong.”
Anya stopped:
“Do you know your biggest mistake? You thought you could build your happiness on someone else’s misery. But it doesn’t work like that.”
That evening, she sat on the balcony of her rented apartment. Her phone rang—it was Sergey again. She declined the call and switched her phone to silent.
“Funny,” Anya thought, watching the sunset. “I dreamed of a family nest, but what I got instead was a lesson. Costly, but invaluable.”
On the table lay the approved mortgage application. A small apartment, but her own. No deception. No hidden agenda.
Anya smiled and closed her eyes. Ahead of her was a new life. Her life.