Mom, I’ll tell my wife that I’ll handle the apartment purchase paperwork myself. We’ll go there, and you’ll become the owner.”
The autumn wind ruffled the thinning leaves of the poplars as Irina once again packed printouts of apartment-for-sale listings into her bag. Over the past two months, there had already been more than twenty such trips, and each time she came home disappointed.
Either the price turned out to be one and a half times higher than advertised, or the apartment needed major renovation, which the owners modestly failed to mention. Or the neighborhood was completely unsuitable — too far from work and from the school where their eight-year-old son, Denis, studied.
“Nothing suitable again?” Sergey asked without taking his eyes off the television.
“Not yet. Tomorrow I’m going to look at a three-room apartment on Zarechnaya Street. The photos look promising,” Irina replied, hanging her coat in the hallway.
The search for a new home had dragged on through no fault of her own. The rented apartment where the family had lived for three years had suddenly been needed by the landlady for her own purposes. They had been given one month’s notice, which by Russian standards was considered almost generous.
Sergey worked as an engineer at a factory, and Irina was a manager at a construction company. Their savings allowed them to count on decent housing, but finding the right option turned out to be more difficult than they had initially expected.
In the morning, Irina took Denis to school and went to meet the realtor. The apartment on Zarechnaya Street exceeded her expectations — bright, spacious, with a good layout. The windows faced a courtyard where old linden trees grew, casting pleasant shade in the summer.
“The documents are in order, and the owner is ready for a quick deal,” explained the agent, Svetlana Vladimirovna. “The price is fixed; bargaining is inappropriate.”
Irina walked through all the rooms once more, mentally arranging the furniture. The kitchen was large enough for a dining table. In the children’s room, Denis would be able to place his desk by the window — there would be enough light for doing homework.
“I like it. I need to discuss it with my husband, but I think I’ll give you a final answer tomorrow,” Irina said.
That evening, her husband listened to her detailed description of the apartment and asked a few clarifying questions about utility bills and the condition of the entrance hall.
“Sounds good. If you like it, we’ll take it,” Sergey agreed. “Only here’s the thing. Let me handle the paperwork. There’s no need for you to waste time running around to different offices.”
Irina raised her eyebrows in surprise. Her husband had never shown initiative in such matters. Even when they had applied for passports for their summer vacation abroad, all the trouble had fallen on her shoulders.
“Sergey, what are you talking about? I can handle it myself. I already have experience — when we bought the car, I did all the paperwork too,” Irina objected.
“No, no, I insist. You already have enough to do. And I happen to have some free time — the project is finished, and the next one won’t start until next week.”
Her husband’s persistence made Irina wary. Usually, Sergey treated any bureaucratic procedure as torture and avoided taking part in it in every possible way. And now, suddenly, he was so eager.
“All right,” Irina agreed after a short pause. “But tomorrow let’s go to the realtor together so you can get familiar with the terms.”
“Of course, absolutely.”
The next day, they met Svetlana Vladimirovna at the agency office. The realtor explained the registration procedure, the necessary documents, and the deadlines in detail. Sergey listened attentively, asked questions, and gave the impression of a serious buyer.
“So, we’re agreed. We’ll gather the documents, and in three days we’ll meet at the notary’s office,” Svetlana Vladimirovna summed up.
On the way home, Sergey again emphasized that he would take care of all the formalities.
“Irina, don’t worry about the documents. I’ll figure everything out. You don’t need any extra hassle.”
At home, her husband called his mother and told her about the upcoming purchase. Galina Petrovna, as always, took a lively interest in family matters and approved of their choice.
“You’re doing the right thing. Renting is just throwing money away,” her mother-in-law commented.
That same evening, Irina went to bed early — the workday had been exhausting. She woke up thirsty around midnight and went to the kitchen for water. As she passed the living room, she heard her husband’s muffled voice. Sergey was talking on the phone, trying not to wake the household.
Irina froze in the doorway, instinctively hiding in the shadows.
“Mom, listen carefully. Tomorrow I’ll tell Irina that I’ll handle the apartment purchase paperwork entirely myself. You and I will go to the notary, and the apartment will be registered in your name.”
Continuation of the story in the comment under the post.
The autumn wind tugged at the thinning leaves of the poplars as Irina once again packed printed apartment listings into her bag. Over the past two months, there had already been more than twenty such trips, and each time she returned home disappointed.
Either the price turned out to be one and a half times higher than advertised, or the apartment needed major repairs while the owners modestly kept silent about it. Or the neighborhood was completely unsuitable — too far from work and from the school where their eight-year-old son Denis studied.
“Nothing suitable again?” Sergey asked without looking away from the television.
“Not yet. Tomorrow I’m going to look at a three-room apartment on Zarechnaya Street. The photos look promising,” Irina replied, hanging her coat in the hallway.
The search for new housing had dragged on through no fault of her own. The rented apartment where the family had lived for three years was suddenly needed by the landlady for her own purposes. They were given one month’s notice, which by Russian standards was even considered generous.
Sergey worked as an engineer at a factory, and Irina was a manager at a construction company. Their savings allowed them to count on decent housing, but finding a suitable option turned out to be harder than they had initially expected.
In the morning, Irina took Denis to school and went to meet the realtor. The apartment on Zarechnaya Street exceeded her expectations — bright, spacious, with a good layout. The windows overlooked a courtyard where old linden trees grew, creating pleasant shade in summer.
“The documents are in order, and the owner is ready for a quick deal,” explained the agent, Svetlana Vladimirovna. “The price is fixed. Bargaining is not appropriate.”
Irina walked through all the rooms once more, mentally arranging the furniture. The kitchen was large enough for a dining table. In the children’s room, Denis would be able to put his desk by the window — there would be enough light for doing homework.
“I like it. I need to discuss it with my husband, but I think I’ll give you a final answer tomorrow,” Irina said.
That evening, her husband listened to a detailed description of the apartment and asked several clarifying questions about utility payments and the condition of the entrance.
“Sounds good. If you like it, we’ll take it,” Sergey agreed. “Only here’s the thing. Let me handle the paperwork. There’s no need for you to waste time running around offices.”
Irina raised her eyebrows in surprise. Her husband had never shown initiative in such matters. Even when they had applied for passports for their summer vacation, all the hassle had fallen on her shoulders.
“Sergey, what are you talking about? I can handle it myself. I already have experience — when we bought the car, I also handled everything,” Irina objected.
“No, no, I insist. You already have enough to do. And I actually have some free time now — the project is finished, and the next one won’t start until next week.”
Her husband’s insistence made Irina wary. Usually Sergey treated any bureaucratic procedure like hard labor and avoided participating in it in every possible way. And now, suddenly, such eagerness.
“All right,” Irina agreed after a short pause. “But tomorrow let’s go to the realtor together so you can get familiar with the terms.”
“Of course, absolutely.”
The next day, they met Svetlana Vladimirovna at the agency office. The realtor explained the registration procedure, the necessary documents, and the deadlines in detail. Sergey listened attentively, asked questions, and gave the impression of a serious buyer.
“So, we’ve agreed. We gather the documents, and in three days we meet at the notary’s office,” Svetlana Vladimirovna summed up.
On the way home, Sergey once again emphasized that he would take care of all the formalities.
“Irina, don’t worry about the documents. I’ll figure everything out. You don’t need the extra trouble.”
At home, her husband called his mother and told her about the upcoming purchase. Galina Petrovna, as always, took a lively interest in family affairs and approved of their choice.
“You’re doing the right thing. Renting is just throwing money away,” her mother-in-law commented.
That same evening, Irina went to bed early — the workday had been exhausting. Around midnight, she woke up thirsty and went to the kitchen for water. Passing by the living room, she heard her husband’s muffled voice. Sergey was talking on the phone, trying not to wake the household.
Irina froze by the doorway, instinctively hiding in the shadows.
“Mom, listen carefully. Tomorrow I’ll tell Irina that I’m taking full responsibility for the apartment purchase paperwork. You and I will go to the notary, and the apartment will be registered in your name.”
Irina’s heart began pounding so loudly it seemed the sound could be heard throughout the entire apartment.
“Yes, exactly. I’ll tell my wife it’s to simplify the procedure. And later, when everything settles down, you can transfer the apartment to me. That will be legally safer.”
Irina carefully leaned against the wall, trying not to reveal her presence. Her husband continued explaining the details of the scheme he had devised to his mother.
“Irina won’t suspect a thing. The main thing is that you’re ready to go with the documents tomorrow. Don’t forget your passport.”
The conversation lasted several more minutes. Sergey clarified the meeting time and discussed the route. Judging by her son’s replies, Galina Petrovna willingly agreed to the proposed scheme.
When her husband ended the call and headed to the bedroom, Irina was already lying in bed, pretending to be asleep. Sergey carefully lay down beside her, trying not to disturb his wife.
Irina lay awake until morning, thinking over what she had heard. Outrage gave way to bewilderment, and then a strange calm came over her. The picture was clear — her husband had decided to deceive his wife and register the apartment in his mother’s name.
The reasons for such an act remained unclear. Perhaps he was afraid that Irina would take half the property in a divorce? Or maybe he simply wanted to protect himself in case of family troubles.
In the morning, Sergey behaved as if nothing had happened. He ate breakfast, got ready for work, and discussed weekend plans.
“By the way, about the apartment. I’ll call the realtor today and clarify the final details. And tomorrow I’ll go handle the documents,” her husband said, finishing his coffee.
“All right,” Irina replied calmly. “I’ll be at work. If you need anything, call me.”
After seeing her husband off, Irina sat down at the kitchen table with a cup of hot tea. The plan formed quickly and turned out to be surprisingly simple. Instead of a scandal and a confrontation, she would get ahead of her husband and complete the deal herself.
At nine in the morning, Irina called Svetlana Vladimirovna.
“Good afternoon. Can we speed up the procedure? I’d like to meet with the seller today.”
“That’s quite possible. The owner is free after lunch. If your documents are ready, we can go to the notary at three o’clock.”
“Excellent. Let’s meet at the office at two-thirty.”
Irina took time off from work, citing the need to resolve urgent family matters. The documents required for the deal were kept in the home safe. Her passport, income certificate, bank statement — everything had been prepared in advance.
At the appointed time, Irina met with the realtor and the apartment seller. Lyudmila Sergeevna, an elderly retired teacher, turned out to be a pleasant woman. The reason for the sale was her move to another city to live with her daughter.
“I inherited the apartment from my parents and lived in it for thirty years. I really want the new owners to take care of this home,” Lyudmila Sergeevna admitted.
The procedure at the notary’s office took a little over an hour. The documents were checked, the parties signed the contract, and the state fee was paid. Irina received the ownership certificate and the keys to the apartment.
“Congratulations on your purchase!” Svetlana Vladimirovna smiled. “I wish you a happy life in your new home.”
That evening, Irina returned home at her usual time, as if nothing unusual had happened. She hid the keys in her bag and placed the documents in the safe with the rest of the family papers.
Sergey greeted his wife with a question about how her day had gone.
“Normal. A lot of work, but I managed. And how are things with the apartment?”
“Everything is going according to plan. Tomorrow Mom and I will go to the notary. By evening, everything will be ready.”
Irina nodded without showing any emotion. Her husband went to the living room to watch the news, while she started preparing dinner. Potatoes with meat, vegetable salad — the usual set of dishes for a weekday evening.
During dinner, the family discussed Denis’s school matters. The boy talked about a math test and an upcoming excursion to the local history museum.
“Dad, when are we moving to the new apartment?” his son asked.
“Soon, very soon,” Sergey replied, giving his wife a meaningful look.
Irina silently finished her salad, thinking about the next day. It would be interesting to see her husband’s reaction when his plan collapsed.
In the morning, Sergey woke up in high spirits. He quickly had breakfast, gathered the documents, and checked the contents of the folder once more.
“That’s it. I’m going to pick up Mom, and then we’re going to the notary. Tonight, we’ll already meet as owners of our own apartment,” her husband announced.
“Good luck,” Irina wished him.
After seeing her husband off, she finished her coffee and took the apartment keys out of her bag. The metal felt pleasantly cold in her palm. Yesterday seemed unreal — everything had happened too quickly and smoothly.
Around noon, Irina received a message from Sergey: “We’re on our way to the notary. Everything will be ready in an hour.”
She replied briefly: “All right.”
At three o’clock in the afternoon, her husband called. His voice sounded confused and agitated.
“Irina, there’s some kind of mix-up here. The notary says the apartment has already been sold. The deal was completed yesterday. Do you know anything about this?”
“I do,” Irina answered calmly. “I bought the apartment yesterday. I have the keys.”
A long silence followed. Then Sergey asked uncertainly:
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Very simple. I heard your conversation with your mother yesterday. I decided to get ahead of events.”
Sergey got home an hour later. His face had taken on an unhealthy grayish shade, and his hands were trembling slightly from nervous tension. Galina Petrovna followed her son, holding herself upright, though her eyes betrayed confusion.
“We need to talk,” Sergey said, entering the living room.
Irina calmly put aside the book she had been reading while waiting for explanations.
“I’m listening.”
“Why did you do that? We agreed that I would handle the paperwork,” her husband began, trying to maintain an appearance of calm.
“Agreed?” Irina repeated. “Interesting wording. You offered to take the trouble upon yourself, and I agreed. But no one forbade me from changing my mind.”
Galina Petrovna settled into an armchair, watching the situation closely. Her mother-in-law was clearly counting on a scandal that would allow her to interfere and put her daughter-in-law in her place.
“Irina, you understand that this was not right. A family should make important decisions together,” Galina Petrovna joined the conversation.
“I completely agree with you, Galina Petrovna. A family really should make decisions together. It’s a pity your son forgot that rule when he planned to register the apartment in your name.”
Her mother-in-law suddenly straightened in the armchair. Her eyes widened in surprise — the plan had been fully exposed.
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” the elderly woman tried to object.
“Galina Petrovna, let’s not pretend. Last night I accidentally overheard Sergey’s phone conversation with you. All the details were discussed quite thoroughly.”
Sergey sank onto the sofa and covered his face with his hands. The situation was slipping out of control, and he did not know how to fix it.
“Maybe you’ll explain why this was necessary?” Irina asked.
“I wanted to protect the purchase,” Sergey muttered. “What if something went wrong in our relationship? The apartment would remain in the family.”
“In the family?” Irina shook her head. “In your mother’s name means in the family?”
“Mom would later transfer the apartment to me. It was a temporary measure.”
“A temporary measure without my knowledge. I see.”
Galina Petrovna listened to her son’s explanations but remained silent. The woman understood that any word could only make the situation worse.
Denis peeked out of his room, drawn by the raised voices.
“Mom, what’s happening?” the boy asked.
“Nothing special, son. The adults are discussing issues related to buying the apartment. Go do your homework,” Irina answered.
The child obediently disappeared back into his room. Family arguments did not concern an eight-year-old boy.
“What now?” Sergey asked.
“Nothing now. The apartment has been bought, and the documents have been properly completed. We live on.”
The following days passed in a tense atmosphere. Sergey tried to behave as usual, but there was strain in their relationship. Galina Petrovna visited less often and kept her distance.
A week after the purchase, the family began packing for the move. The new apartment required only minimal repairs — it was enough to freshen the paint in the children’s room and replace the faucets in the bathroom.
“Mom, when are we finally moving?” Denis asked every day.
“On the weekend,” Irina answered. “Dad will get a truck, and we’ll move the furniture.”
The move went without major problems. Sergey’s friends helped transport the heavy items. By Sunday evening, most of their belongings were already in the new place.
Galina Petrovna appeared when the unloading was finished. Her mother-in-law brought a bouquet of flowers and a cake — traditional housewarming gifts.
“Congratulations on your new home,” the elderly woman said, handing the flowers to her daughter-in-law.
“Thank you,” Irina replied, accepting the bouquet.
Over tea, Galina Petrovna looked around the apartment, evaluated the layout, and expressed approval of the choice.
“It’s a good home. Spacious and bright. Deniska will be able to study peacefully.”
“Yes, we like it,” Irina agreed.
A few days later, when the main boxes had been unpacked and the furniture arranged, Galina Petrovna came to visit again. This time, the visit clearly had a specific purpose.
“Is Sergey at work?” her mother-in-law asked.
“Yes, he’ll be back by seven.”
“Then we have time to talk.”
Irina brewed tea and took out some cookies. A serious conversation was ahead — she could feel it from Galina Petrovna’s mood.
“You know, I keep thinking about what happened with the apartment,” the elderly woman began.
“And what conclusion have you reached?”
“Maybe we should go and redo the documents? After all, it would be more proper if Sergey became the owner.”
Irina put her cup on the table and looked carefully at her mother-in-law.
“Galina Petrovna, the apartment was bought with my money and registered in my name. I am not going to change anything.”
“But Sergey is the head of the family. It’s customary for real estate to be registered in the husband’s name.”
“Customs vary. The main thing is that the purchase be honest and open.”
“Irina, you understand, we wanted what was best. Just to protect ourselves.”
“Protect yourselves from what? From me?”
Galina Petrovna remained silent, realizing that any answer would sound bad.
“Galina Petrovna, let’s dot the i’s. Your son planned to deceive his wife. You agreed to participate in that deception. Nothing good came of it, and it’s good that it happened that way.”
“I only wanted to help my son.”
“To help him deceive his wife?”
Her mother-in-law pressed her lips together, clearly displeased with the direction of the conversation.
An hour later, Galina Petrovna got ready to leave. At the door, the elderly woman turned around and said:
“So, when are we going to register the apartment?”
The question sounded as if the previous conversation had never happened at all. Sergey had just returned from work and heard his mother’s final words.
He was confused and did not know what to say. Awkwardly, he reached into his pocket, took out a set of keys, and showed them to his mother.
“It’s too late, Mom. Irina already handled everything without us.”
Lidia Ivanovna’s face stretched in surprise. The woman blinked, unable to find suitable words to express her astonishment.
“How do you mean, handled everything?” her mother-in-law finally forced out.
“Exactly as I said. The apartment has been bought, and the documents are ready,” Sergey answered tiredly.
Her husband sat down on a chair by the front door and pressed his temples with his hands. The plan had collapsed completely, and the last hopes of carrying it out had vanished.
“The apartment is registered in my name. Period,” Irina said calmly, coming out at the sound of voices.
Silence hung in the hallway, broken only by Galina Petrovna’s heavy breathing. Her mother-in-law was processing the information she had heard but could not accept it.
“So you deceived me!” the elderly woman burst out, her face reddening with anger. “You led me by the nose, made plans!”
“Galina Petrovna, no one deceived you. Sergey tried to deceive me, but things turned out differently,” Irina objected.
“I understand everything!” her mother-in-law exclaimed. “You deliberately ruined everything!”
“I didn’t ruin anything. I simply bought the apartment honestly and openly.”
Galina Petrovna turned around and headed for the exit. At the door, she stopped, turned back, and threw out:
“We’ll see who wins in the end!”
The door slammed so hard that the windowpanes trembled. Sergey remained sitting on the chair, staring into emptiness. The shock of his own plans failing would not release him.
“Sergey, we really do need to talk seriously,” Irina said.
“What is there to talk about? Everything is clear.”
“No, not everything. I need to understand why you decided to deceive me.”
Her husband raised his head and looked at his wife with tired eyes.
“I was afraid I’d lose the apartment in case of divorce.”
“So you’re planning a divorce?”
“No! I just wanted to protect myself.”
“Protect yourself from your own wife.”
Sergey nodded, understanding how absurd his explanations sounded.
“You see, Irina, I saw how my friends lost apartments in divorces. I didn’t want to repeat their mistakes.”
“But the apartment was being bought with shared money. In a divorce, it would still be divided.”
“Not necessarily. If Mom were the owner, the apartment would stay in the family.”
“In your family, but not in ours.”
The conversation continued for another hour. Sergey explained the motives behind his actions, and Irina asked clarifying questions. Gradually, the picture became clear — her husband had acted out of fear of losing real estate, but had chosen the wrong way to protect himself.
“What will happen to us now?” Sergey asked.
“I don’t know. The trust has been seriously damaged.”
“I’ll change. No more secrets.”
“We’ll see,” Irina replied.
The following months were spent rebuilding their relationship. Sergey tried to be as open as possible and discussed all important decisions with his wife. Galina Petrovna visited rarely and remained cold toward her daughter-in-law.
Gradually, the family’s life returned to its usual rhythm. Denis adapted to his new school and made friends in the courtyard. The apartment became a real home — cozy and comfortable.
For the first time in a long while, Irina felt firm confidence in the future. The home was securely protected from encroachment, and no one would dare try to pull off such a scheme behind her back again. The lesson had been painful but useful for everyone involved in the family drama.