Alena was stirring soup when Sasha appeared in the doorway looking like a man about to be tried for treason.
He scratched his head, shuffled forward, and mumbled without meeting her eyes:
“Mom’s coming today.”
Barely above a whisper — as if announcing a tax audit.
Alena raised an eyebrow, switched off the stove, and turned to him.
“Alright. For tea, or to inspect the closets again?” she asked dryly.
Sasha gave a crooked smile.
“Well… we’ll talk, sit a bit…”
He was obviously hiding something.
Alena narrowed her eyes.
“Sasha. Whenever you squirm like that, it means one of two things — either you broke something, or your mom is planning a renovation in our home without informing us. Which is it this time?”
Sasha exhaled heavily.
“Nastya has nowhere to live. Her dorm is freezing, the roommate smokes… Mom thinks she could stay here. Temporarily.”
“‘Temporarily’ meaning a week,” Alena cut in, “or until I grow old enough to forget the neighbors’ faces?”
Sasha rubbed his cheek.
“Well… until she sorts out her classes…”
Alena snorted.
“Your mother’s ‘until’ lasts longer than most people’s mortgages. And, reminder — this is my apartment. Bought by me. Before I even knew you came with a mother.”
He tried to hug her; she stepped aside.
“Fine,” she said. “Let her come. But if I see even one suitcase in the hallway, it won’t be a conversation — it’ll be an eviction.”
Two hours later, the doorbell rang. Alena beat Sasha to the door.
There stood Nina Petrovna — puffy jacket, grocery bag in one hand… and a suitcase in the other. Nastya hovered behind her like a shy shadow.
“Hello, children!” she chirped, dragging her things inside. “Here we are!”
Alena gave a chilly smile.
“Oh, what a surprise. Staying overnight?”
“How else?” Nina stepped inside as if she owned the place. “We agreed Nastya would live here. Warm, safe. And Sasha should support his sister.”
Alena leaned against the doorframe.
We agreed? Strange. She didn’t recall signing any treaties.
Nina dropped the suitcase and began inspecting the rooms like a property agent.
“Nice big kitchen. Nastya loves cooking—”
“Wonderful,” Alena cut in. “She can practice on her own stove.”
Sasha looked like someone handed a grenade and walked away.
“Mama,” he tried gently, “let’s talk—”
“Talk about what?” Nina snapped. “She’s your sister! And now you’re married, suddenly your mother and sister are strangers? In my time—”
Alena raised a hand.
“In your time people plowed fields with horses. We’re not bringing that back either. Here’s the point: this is my apartment. No one lives here without my consent.”
Nina pressed her lips tight.
“You’re selfish, Alena. You’re afraid Nastya will take something from you.”
“Like my front door space?” Alena said. “No thanks.”
Nastya suddenly whispered:
“Mom… maybe I should just go back to the dorm…”
“Nobody is going anywhere!” Nina barked. “Sasha! Tell your wife she’s overreacting!”
Sasha inhaled and finally said:
“Mom… Alena’s right. This is her home. We can’t just… force people in.”
Nina froze, as if slapped.
“So that’s it? I raised you for this?”
Half an hour later she and Nastya left — with a dramatic “You’ll regret this.”
The week that followed was eerily peaceful. No calls. No surprise visits.
Sasha relaxed.
Alena didn’t.
And she was right.
At 7 AM Saturday, Sasha’s phone rang. He shot up like a soldier.
“What? Right now?” He looked at Alena with panic.
“Unless the house is on fire, go back to sleep,” she muttered. “If it’s your mom — her words don’t ignite anything.”
“It’s Mom,” he sighed. “Nastya’s phone was stolen. She’s crying outside the dorm. We should… bring her here.”
Alena opened one eye.
“And the police are what? On vacation?”
“She’s still just a girl…”
“She’s eighteen,” Alena said flatly. “In eighteen, I worked and rented a room. No one moved me into a stranger’s apartment because my phone got nicked.”
Two hours later — doorbell.
Nina again. Nastya. Bags. Suitcase.
Alena saw immediately: the girl wasn’t asking to stay. Her mother was using her.
“Well,” Nina announced, pushing the girl inside, “take your sister. She needs to recover.”
Alena smiled tightly.
“And in the dorm people aren’t… people?”
“Stop it, Alena!” Nina snapped. “It’s just for a while.”
“Your ‘while’ has no expiration date.”
Sasha looked torn. Until Alena said calmly:
“If you want her to live here — say it honestly.”
He looked at her.
“I want to help my sister. But… this is your home.”
Nina threw up her hands.
“‘Your’ home! So now you have your own little corner, and your sister can rot anywhere?”
Alena rubbed her temples.
“Let’s rent her a room. We’ll all pitch in.”
“I don’t waste money on strangers,” Nina hissed.
“Oh? I’m a stranger now?” Alena asked softly.
“Well aren’t you?” Nina snapped.
Alena felt something sharp twist inside her. She stepped forward, grabbed the suitcase, and set it outside the door.
Nastya whispered, “Mom, please—”
“We’re not leaving!” Nina exploded. “Sasha! Do something!”
Sasha met Alena’s eyes and said quietly:
“I’m with her.”
Nina turned to stone.
“So now you’re against your own mother?”
“I’m for order,” he said. “And for respecting my wife’s home.”
“Fine,” she said coldly. “Don’t call me again.”
Door slam.
Alena sank onto the couch.
“Sometimes I feel like we’re divorcing your mother, not dealing with her.”
Sasha gave a tired smile.
“Well… at least she can’t ask for alimony.”
Three silent weeks passed.
Then — Friday night.
A long, heavy doorbell ring. A challenge.
Sasha opened and nearly choked.
Nina stood there with a cold smile. And beside her — a man in a suit.
“Good evening,” she said. “This is Viktor Sergeevich, a lawyer. We’re here to discuss housing.”
Alena folded her arms.
“Oh? And who exactly will be discussing what?”
The lawyer cleared his throat.
“Given the family circumstances—”
“Family circumstances are for the registry office,” Alena interrupted. “Housing matters? The notary. And FYI — the apartment is legally mine.”
“A normal solution,” Nina insisted. “Sell this place, buy a smaller one, and use the rest to buy a house for all of us. For the family.”
“For you,” Alena said. “Not for us.”
Sasha finally snapped.
“Mama, enough. You tried to move Nastya in twice. Now you’re bringing a lawyer? I’m your son, not your weapon.”
“I want my family together!”
“And I want you to stop storming our home,” Alena shot back.
The lawyer began quietly edging toward the exit.
Alena pointed to the door.
“You have five seconds to leave peacefully.”
“And if we don’t?” Nina challenged.
Alena picked up her bag and placed it outside.
“I’ll call the police. Attempted illegal entry.”
Silence.
Sasha stepped closer to his mother.
“I love you, but you don’t get to destroy my home.”
Her face twisted — pride over pain — and she left.
Door slam.
Alena leaned back against the wall.
“Well. Romantic night cancelled again.”
Sasha breathed out.
“At least now we know — that was the final attack.”
Alena shook her head with a dry smile.
“With your mother? Trust me, she’s already drafting her next plan.”
But for the first time, she felt it clearly:
This home really was her fortress.
