Silence fell. Zinaida Ivanovna twisted a handkerchief in her hands. Oleg sat with his shoulders slumped. Lyudmila closed her laptop.
— Oleg, I’m not throwing your mother out on the street. I’m asking her to resolve her housing issue. They are offering her apartments, let her choose. If she needs help with moving or repairs, yes, we will help. But she will not live here permanently, occupy our bedroom, and dictate how I live. We need to have a private life too.
— Okay, — Oleg said quietly. — Mom, tomorrow we’re going to look at apartments. Do you hear me?
Zinaida Ivanovna sniffled, nodded, and shuffled off to the bedroom. The door closed quietly, without a slam. Oleg turned to his wife.
— And that money… was it really play money?
— It was. I bought it for a congratulatory video. I wanted to film it as if you had won the lottery. As a joke. But I changed my mind, decided it was a silly joke.
— And where are your real savings? You do have them.
— Lyudmila looked at him intently. — I do. My inheritance from my grandmother, which I received two years ago. By law, it belongs only to me. You knew about that, I told you.
— I forgot… — Oleg admitted. — Completely forgot.
— You’ve forgotten a lot, Oleg. You forgot that I’m your wife, not your servant. You forgot that I have boundaries too. You forgot that having a mom is good, but a family is built by two people, not three.
— Oleg rubbed his face with his hands. — I’m an idiot.
— Not an idiot. Just confused. But now you need to sort yourself out. And quickly.
The next day, Zinaida Ivanovna and Oleg did indeed go to look at apartments. They returned four hours later. The mother-in-law was as gloomy as a storm cloud but said nothing. In the evening, Oleg told Lyudmila that his mom had chosen a two-room apartment on the fourth floor in a neighboring district. The paperwork would take a month.
— A month, — Lyudmila repeated. — Alright. I can endure another month…
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