Nelya sat in the real estate office, nervously counting the money for the last time. After dedicating two years of her life to nursing during the day and working extra shifts at a private clinic in the evenings, she had little time off. Every free moment was an opportunity to earn more. Her goal was singular: to own an apartment.
— The documentation is ready, — the real estate agent announced, handing her a folder. — It’s a two-room apartment in a brick building in a lovely neighborhood. Congratulations on your purchase!
Nelya signed the contract, feeling her hands tremble with excitement. At last, she had her own apartment, her own keys, her own walls. Gone were the days of rental spaces, unpredictable landlords, and constant moves.
Pavel greeted the news with calm. The man worked as a manager for a small company, with an average salary that didn’t leave much for savings. When Nelya announced her purchase, he simply nodded.
— Good for you. So we’re moving?
— Of course. Why would we stay in a rented place when we have our own?
The move was swift. There weren’t many belongings—years of renting had taught her not to accumulate unnecessary items. Nelya arranged dishes in the kitchen while Pavel set up the television in the living room.
— It turned out well, — he commented as he surveyed the room. — Spacious, bright. You chose a nice apartment.
— I searched for a long time. I wanted a respectable neighborhood and a solid building.
— Right. If we’re spending money, let it be for good quality living.
The early months in their new home were smooth. Nelya continued her job in two shifts, now focusing on decorating their home. They needed furniture, appliances, and bedroom renovations. While Pavel occasionally assisted in choosing items, he didn’t contribute financially.
— My salary is lower, — he explained. — You earn more; you should spend.
— But this is our shared home.
— Of course, it is our home. I live here, helping to set it up.
Nelya didn’t argue. It was true that she earned more. The most important factor was that they had their own living space rather than rented accommodations.
Conflicts began to arise after six months. Pavel started to voice his opinions about the organization of their home more frequently.
— Why do you have so many books in the bedroom? — he asked upon seeing a new shelf. — There’s little space, and you clutter it.
— Books don’t clutter. This is my library.
— The home should be cozy, not a storage unit.
— Pavel, books create a warm atmosphere. At least for me.
— For you, for you… What about me? I also live here.
Nelya was surprised by his reaction. Previously, her husband had never objected to her books, sometimes even borrowing them to read.
— If you don’t like the shelf, we can move it to the living room.
— It’s not about the shelf. It’s about you not consulting me.
— What should I consult about? These are minor details.
— Minor? The home’s atmosphere is minor?
The conversation ended unresolved, but a lingering discontent remained. Nelya noticed that Pavel was increasingly expressing dissatisfaction with her decisions. Whether it was the curtain color, furniture arrangement, or the groceries she bought—nothing seemed to please him.
— You’ve become quite independent, — he remarked one evening during dinner. — You used to consult with me; now you decide everything on your own.
— What do you mean by independent? I’ve always been this way.
— Not like this. This apartment has spoiled you.
— How can an apartment spoil someone?
— Very easily. You’ve started to think you’re in charge here.
Nelya set down her fork and looked at him.
— Pavel, I don’t think I’m in charge. I’m just making decisions regarding our household.
— You’re making them without me.
— Did you participate in household decisions before?
— I did, but differently.
— How exactly?
Pavel fell silent, playing with a napkin.
— Well, you understand what I mean.
The conversation faded away, but Nelya felt a growing tension. Her husband became more critical, more frequently criticizing her actions. Sometimes it seemed he was intentionally looking for reasons to be dissatisfied.
The situation escalated when his sister, Svetlana, began to be mentioned more often in their discussions. She lived in a small town, worked as a saleswoman, and rented a room from others. Pavel often called his sister, discussing her problems.
— Svetka is having a tough time, — he told Nelya. — The landlord is terrible, constantly nitpicking. And the rent isn’t cheap.
— Maybe she should rent a whole apartment? Or find roommates?
— No, it would be better for her to move to our city. There are more job opportunities and higher salaries.
— That’s an idea. She should look for job vacancies and consider moving.
— Yes, I think it’s worth it. The main thing is to find housing.
Nelya nodded, not giving the conversation much thought. Svetlana was an adult, and she would figure out her move and housing situation.
However, Pavel continued to discuss his sister’s plans more frequently, recounting rental listings he saw online and which neighborhoods in the city would suit her.
— Renting is expensive these days, — he mused. — Especially in decent neighborhoods.
— But salaries are higher here too. It compensates for the housing expenses.
— Not always. Sometimes half the income goes to rent.
— Well, that’s temporary. She’ll work for a year or two, save up, and buy something of her own.
Pavel shrugged, but a glint of thought flashed in his eyes.
One evening, Nelya came home earlier than usual. Her shift was cut short due to fewer patients. Quietly opening the door, she aimed to avoid disturbing Pavel if he was resting.
Voices filled the apartment. Pavel was talking on the phone, and his voice carried from the living room.
— Yes, mom, I understand. Svetka really needs to move… Yes, renting is expensive… I think I can reach an agreement with Nelya. Until Svetka gets on her feet, we’ll help with housing…
Nelya froze at the door. What’s her husband talking about? What does he mean by “I’ll arrange it with Nelya”?
— I don’t know how Nelya will feel about it, but I think I can convince her… Yes, the apartment is spacious; there’s plenty of room… We’ll help Svetka and see how it goes…
She slipped into the kitchen, trying to make no noise. Her heart raced. Is Pavel planning to invite his sister to live with them? Without even discussing it with her?
Her husband concluded the call and entered the kitchen.
— Oh, hey. You’re home early.
— Yes, slow day. Who were you talking to?
— Mom. She’s worried about Svetka and keeps advising her to move to the city.
— I see.
Nelya decided not to continue the conversation. She needed to think about what she had heard and understand her husband’s intentions.
Several days passed quietly. Pavel behaved normally and didn’t mention his sister’s plans. Nelya almost convinced herself that the conversation was abstract, with no concrete intentions.
However, a week later, the situation became clearer. At dinner, Pavel broached the subject of Svetlana’s move again.
— You know, I was thinking about my sister, — he began, slicing the bread. — She really should move in with us.
— To our city?
— Yes. I’ve figured out how to help with housing.
Nelya lifted her gaze from the plate, eyeing her husband closely.
— How exactly?
— Svetka is coming next week; we’ll figure out how to accommodate her.
— What do you mean “accommodate her”?
— Well, we can temporarily take her in. Until she finds a job and gets settled.
— Pavel, this is my apartment. No one is moving in here without my approval.
He set down the knife, looking at her sternly.
— Your apartment? And who am I in this home?
— You’re my husband. You stay here because we are a family.
— Exactly, a family. And family helps each other out.
— Helping each other is one thing. Inviting your sister to live here is another.
— Why can’t we?
— Because it disrupts our peace. We are young spouses, and we need our own space.
Pavel scoffed, shaking his head.
— Your space… You’re starting to think too much of yourself.
— How so?
— You got the apartment and think you’re now the queen.
Nelya felt her face flush with indignation.
— I didn’t think of myself as a queen. I bought this apartment with my money and have the right to decide who lives here.
— You have that right, but you’ve forgotten about family obligations.
— What obligations? To support your relatives?
— To help in hard times. Svetka isn’t reaching out to us without reason; she’s genuinely struggling.
— I understand that she’s struggling. But the solution isn’t for her to move in with us.
Pavel stood up from the table and walked around the kitchen.
— You know what, Nelya? You’ve changed completely. You’re selfish.
— Selfish? Why is that?
— For thinking only of yourself. Your comfort and your own needs.
— And do you think of me when you plan to let your sister move in without my consent?
— I think of family. Of helping someone in need.
— Family is you and me. Svetlana can rent an apartment in the same neighborhood.
— With what money? She doesn’t even have enough for the deposit.
— We can lend her some money.
— Why lend it when we can just let her stay with us?
— Because this is my home, not a hotel.
Pavel stopped and turned to face her. A new expression flickered in his eyes, one Nelya had never seen before—cold and resolved.
— Don’t push your luck! — he snapped. — The apartment is for my sister, and you can keep working!
Nelya stared at Pavel, unable to believe what she was hearing. The man stood in the middle of the kitchen, hands on his hips, chin held high. His tone suggested he was issuing orders to a subservient.
— What did you just say? — the woman asked quietly.
— What you just heard. The apartment is needed for Svetlana, and you can find another place to live.
— No, she won’t.
— Yes, she will. And don’t argue with me.
Nelya stood up from the table and walked to the window. Outside, the lights of the neighboring houses flickered, and cars drove by. The ordinary evening life continued outside. But inside the kitchen, her life was falling apart.
Two years of working double shifts, saving every penny for the dream of owning a home. Countless sleepless nights in the hospital, additional duties, forgoing purchases and leisure—everything was for these walls, these windows, this house.
Yet now her husband insisted on handing the apartment over to his sister as if it were just a trivial matter, like disposing of an unwanted item.
— Pavel, I’m going to bed, — Nelya said, heading towards the door.
— Wait. We haven’t finished our conversation.
— We haven’t even started one. A conversation means discussion, and you’re just making demands.
— I’ve made my decision. As the head of the family.
— Head of the family? — Nelya turned around. — You don’t even pay for utilities.
— It’s not about money. It’s about family hierarchy.
— What hierarchy? We are equal partners.
— No, we’re not. I’m the man, and I make decisions.
Nelya silently left the kitchen and retreated to their bedroom. She closed the door and sat on the bed, her hands trembling from overwhelming emotions.
Pavel perceived her hard work and money as shared family resources for him to control. The apartment Nelya had worked so hard for was merely a living space for her husband to house his relatives.
Nelya pulled out her phone and dialed her friend Oksana.
— Hey, — Oksana answered. — How are you doing?
— Oks, I have problems. Can we talk?
— Sure. What’s happening?
Nelya recounted her conversation with Pavel and his demands regarding his sister.
— You’ve tolerated this for too long, — Oksana sighed after hearing Nelya’s story. — It’s time to put an end to this.
— What do you mean?
— Nelya, you work like a horse, buy an apartment, and your husband thinks he has the right to dictate its use. That’s not normal.
— But we are family…
— Family is built on mutual respect, not on one person working while the other calls the shots.
— I don’t know what to do.
— You do know. You’re just afraid to do it.
Oksana was right. Nelya understood what needed to be done, but fear held her back from making a decision.
The next morning, Nelya rose early, before Pavel awoke. She dressed, gathered her documents and money, and left the house. Her first stop was the locksmith.
— I need to change the locks in the apartment, — Nelya told the locksmith.
— Urgently?
— Very urgently. Today.
— I can do it today. I’ll come in the afternoon.
— Great.
Her next visit was to the management company. Nelya found the right office and explained her situation to the manager.
— I want to leave a request, — she said. — No duplicates of the keys to the apartment should be issued to anyone but me.
— But your husband? He’s registered here, isn’t he?
— He’s not registered. I’m the sole owner and registered occupant.
— Then there’s no problem. Just sign here.
At work, Nelya warned her colleagues that there may be calls from her husband.
— If anyone asks about my schedule or when I’ll be home, don’t tell them, — she requested.
— Is something wrong? — the head nurse asked with concern.
— Just family issues. I’ll handle it soon.
By the time Nelya returned home that evening, Pavel was not there, likely delayed at work or with friends. The locksmith had already changed the locks, leaving her with new keys. She changed clothes and prepared dinner, eating alone while listening for sounds in the hallway. Pavel would return and discover his key no longer worked.
At nine o’clock, a knock came at the door. First a quick rap, followed by a prolonged one, and then a series of quick knocks.
— Nelya! Open up! — Pavel shouted from behind the door. — What’s this nonsense?
Nelya approached the door but did not open it.
— I changed the locks, — she said calmly through the door.
— Why?
— Because you no longer live here.
— What the hell? Open the door immediately!
— No.
— Nelya, this is my apartment too! I live here!
— The apartment is mine. The documents are in my name.
— Are you out of your mind? We’re married!
— We were married. Until you decided to control my property.
Pavel fell silent, then started pounding on the door.
— Open up! I need my things!
— I’ll bring them to the hallway tomorrow. You can pick them up.
— Nelya, stop this foolishness! Open the door!
— No.
The banging stopped. Pavel left. An hour later, her phone rang.
— Are you going crazy? — her husband shouted through the receiver. — The apartment is jointly owned! I have the right to live there!
— No, you don’t. You’re neither an owner nor registered to live there.
— I’m your husband!
— Still your husband. Tomorrow, I’ll file for divorce.
— What?
— You don’t live here anymore. All matters through the court.
— Nelya, don’t do anything stupid! We love each other!
— You don’t love me. You’re using me.
— Stop talking nonsense!
— You demanded I give my apartment to your sister. That’s love?
— I wanted to help a relative!
— At my expense. With my hard work. My money.
— We’re family! Families share property!
— Families share decisions. And you decided for me.
Nelya hung up and turned off her phone. Pavel called back for another hour, but she refused to answer.
The next morning, Nelya took an unpaid day off work and went to see a lawyer. She explained her situation and learned about the divorce process.
— Will property be divided? — the lawyer asked.
— The apartment was purchased with my money before marriage. He has no rights to it.
— Then it won’t be a problem. It’s a standard divorce procedure.
— How long will it take?
— With mutual consent, about a month. If your husband opposes, it may take up to three months.
— He will oppose.
— Then prepare for a lengthy process.
Nelya signed a contract with the lawyer and paid for the consultation. Her next stop was the registry office.
— I’d like to file for divorce, — she told the clerk.
— Do you have any minor children?
— No.
— Does your husband agree?
— No.
— Then it will be through the court. Here’s the address of the district court.
Nelya wrote down the address and went to file her petition for divorce.
That evening, when she returned home, her phone rang. An unfamiliar number.
— Nelya? This is Lidia Mikhailovna, Pavel’s mother.
— Hello.
— What kind of nonsense are you pulling? You kicked my son out of the house!
— I haven’t kicked anyone out. I just stopped allowing him into my apartment.
— How is it yours? You’re family!
— We were family.
— Sweetheart, what’s wrong with you? Svetka has nowhere to live! She should move in with you!
— That doesn’t concern me.
— Not concern you? But you’re his daughter-in-law!
— I was his daughter-in-law. Now I’ve filed for divorce.
— What?!
— My apartment is my responsibility. No strangers will live here.
— What strangers? They are relatives!
— Pavel is no longer my relative. Therefore, his sister isn’t either.
— How could you be so cruel? — the mother-in-law exclaimed. — So heartless!
— Not cruel, but principled.
— Pavel says you’ve gone completely crazy!
— If defending my rights equates to madness, then yes, I’m crazy.
Nelya hung up and blocked the number. Half an hour later, Pavel called from another phone.
— Nelya, stop messing around! I want to go home!
— Find yourself another home.
— This is my home too!
— No. Your home is where you’re accepted. And you won’t convince me again.
— I didn’t mean anything bad when I mentioned the apartment! I just wanted to help my sister!
— Help with your money.
— I have no money!
— Find a better job. Earn more.
— Nelya, be a decent human being!
— I am a decent human being. With rights, needs, and boundaries. Boundaries that you violated.
— What boundaries?
— You decided for me that my apartment would be given to your sister without my consent.
— Well, it’s not a big deal…
— Exactly. You thought it was insignificant. But you didn’t consider the magnitude.
Nelya hung up the phone, turning it completely off. There was nothing more to discuss.
A week later, she received a court summons. Pavel had filed a counterclaim, demanding a division of property. The lawyer assured her that her husband’s claims were baseless.
— He has no rights to the apartment, — the lawyer explained. — But he can drag the process out.
— Let him drag it out. The main thing is that he’s not in the apartment.
Nelya stopped letting Pavel in. She ignored his calls and messages. He tried to ambush her at the entrance, but she would sneak out the back door.
The divorce dragged on for three months. Pavel demanded half the apartment, citing marital rights. The court denied the claims, as the apartment had been purchased with Nelya’s personal finances before the official marriage.
Ultimately, the marriage was dissolved without property division. Nelya regained her freedom, while Pavel ended up with nothing.
She changed her phone number and installed a video intercom, completely shutting Pavel out of her life and her home.
With only one work shift, Nelya created time for herself, her hobbies, and friends. The apartment transformed back into a home rather than a source of conflict.
Nelya restored her personal boundaries and began to build a life free from parasites.
Conclusion: Nelya’s journey illustrates the importance of self-advocacy and the assertion of personal boundaries, especially in relationships where one party might seek to dominate or exploit. Through determination and the reclaiming of her own space and rights, Nelya not only found freedom but also restored her sense of identity and self-worth.