Yana woke up that Saturday morning with a sense of pleasant anticipation. Egor’s entire family was coming over tonight to discuss the final details for their October wedding. With a little over a month to go, every day was filled with new chores and wedding prep.
She walked through the apartment, taking in the familiar walls. This two-bedroom place in the city center had been left to her by her grandmother two years ago. Grandma Klavdia had given Yana her most precious possession—this home where Yana had spent the best years of her childhood. The old furniture remained exactly where it was; Yana hadn’t the heart to change it. Every corner held a memory of someone she loved.
Yana had met Egor a year and a half ago at a birthday party for their mutual friend, Svetka. A tall guy with an easy smile, he had been the first to strike up a conversation, and they had talked the entire night. Then came the walks, the movies, and the coffee dates. Egor seemed so steady, so right. Four months later, he moved in. He told her it was silly to pay for a dorm room when his girlfriend had her own place.
«Yana, what are you daydreaming about?» Egor asked, stepping out of the bathroom and drying his wet hair with a towel.
«Nothing much, just remembering how we met,» she smiled. «Is your family coming at seven?»
«Yeah. Mom said she’s bringing some invitation samples. She wants to show you a few options.»
Maria Petrovna, Egor’s mother, had practically moved in with them over the last few months. She would show up under the guise of «helping with wedding prep» and stay all day. She’d walk through the rooms, judging the furniture and shaking her head at the wallpaper.
«We really should re-wallpaper this spot,» Maria Petrovna would say, running a hand along the hallway wall. «See? And it’s time to replace the linoleum in the kitchen. How old is this stuff?»
«I don’t know, my grandmother put it down,» Yana would reply, feeling a flicker of irritation.
«Well, there you go. It’s ancient. Egor, once you’re married, you need to do a proper renovation. It’s a good apartment, right in the center. It has potential.»
Yana brushed these comments off as motherly concern. After all, Maria Petrovna really was helping—she picked the restaurant, talked to the florists, and even helped choose the dress. Egor’s family had welcomed Yana with open arms. His father, Nikolai Sergeyevich, always nodded approvingly when he saw her, and Egor’s sister, Anastasia, was constantly praising Yana’s taste.
«You’ve fixed this place up so well!» Anastasia would say during her visits. «My husband and I are stuck in a tiny place on the outskirts, but look at your high ceilings! And the neighborhood!»
Yana was happy to be part of a big family. Her own parents lived in another city and she rarely saw them; she had long dreamed of warm family gatherings like these.
Egor had proposed exactly a year ago. He took her to the same restaurant where they had their first date, dropped to one knee, and pulled out a ring box.
«Yana, will you marry me?»
She had said yes without a second thought. She truly believed she had found «the one.»
That evening, Yana set the table. She bought fruit and cheese, sliced some meats, and put the kettle on. Maria Petrovna had promised to bring a cake. At seven o’clock sharp, the doorbell rang.
«Good evening, Yanochka!» Maria Petrovna walked in carrying a large box, followed by Nikolai Sergeyevich and Anastasia.
«Hello, come on in,» Yana said, taking their coats and hanging them in the closet.
Everyone settled in the living room. Maria Petrovna pulled out a folder of invitation samples and spread them across the table.
«Look at these, Yana. I like the ones with the gold embossing. They look expensive.»
«They’re beautiful,» Yana agreed. «The ones with the flowers are nice too.»
«Flowers are cliché,» Maria Petrovna snapped. «Gold is about status. Guests will know right away that this is a serious wedding, and the gifts will reflect that.»
Egor sat next to his mother, silently flipping through samples. Nikolai Sergeyevich studied the bookshelves while Anastasia scrolled through her phone.
«I’ll go put the tea on,» Yana said, heading to the kitchen.
She filled the kettle and turned on the stove. The apartment was quiet, save for the muffled voices drifting from the living room. Yana grabbed a tray, set out the cups, and got the sugar bowl ready. She stepped into the hallway but froze just outside the living room door.
«Egor, are you listening to me?» Maria Petrovna’s voice was stern and insistent. «After the wedding, you need to convince Yana to transfer the apartment into your name.»
Yana pressed her back against the wall. Her heart dropped into her stomach.
«Mom, why would we…» Egor’s voice was hesitant, quiet.
«What do you mean ‘why’?» Maria Petrovna interrupted. «What if you get a divorce? Then what? You’ll be left with nothing. The apartment needs to be in your name. It’s safer that way.»
«Maria is right,» Nikolai Sergeyevich chimed in. «Legal documents matter. You never know what might happen in life.»
Yana gripped the handle of the tray so hard her knuckles turned white. Her legs felt like lead, but she forced herself to stay silent and keep listening.
«And besides,» Anastasia added, her voice laced with a smirk, «an apartment in the center is a fortune. It’s stupid to let a chance like this slip away. Yana seems like a simpleton; she’ll sign it over if you ask her nicely.»
Maria Petrovna gave an approving grunt.
«Exactly. Egor, the main thing is to stay sweet with her until the paperwork is done. Be affectionate. Be patient. Then, you can get a divorce whenever you want. We’ll find you a proper bride from a respectable family—not one of these girls who only has an apartment from her grandma and nothing else.»
Yana closed her eyes. The world began to spin. She had lived with this man, made plans, and dreamed of a family with him. And it turned out it was all for square footage. A performance. A well-rehearsed play.
«Fine,» Egor sighed. «I’ll try to bring it up eventually…»
There it was. He agreed. He had stayed silent the whole time, and then he agreed. Yana took a deep breath in and out. Her hands were shaking; she nearly dropped the tray. She set it down on a side table in the hall and stood there for two minutes, gathering her strength. A wave of fury was rising inside her, but she forced herself to stay calm. She had to hold it together. She couldn’t break down.
Yana pushed open the living room door and walked in. The conversation died instantly. Maria Petrovna turned toward the door and forced a smile.
«Oh, Yanochka! How’s that tea coming?»
Yana looked silently at Egor. He kept his eyes down, nervously crumpling a wedding invitation sample. Anastasia stared at her phone, pretending nothing was wrong. Nikolai Sergeyevich cleared his throat and turned toward the window.
«I heard your conversation,» Yana said, her voice calm and steady. «Every single word. From beginning to end.»
Maria Petrovna’s face dropped. Anastasia turned pale and froze. Nikolai Sergeyevich whipped around, his mouth hanging open, but he said nothing.
«Yana, listen…» Egor began, jumping up from the sofa.
«No, you listen,» Yana cut him off. She walked to the table, pulled the engagement ring off her finger, and set it down in front of him. «The wedding is off. And I want all of you to leave my apartment immediately.»
«Have you lost your mind?» Maria Petrovna snapped, her tone shifting instantly. «We were just joking! Right, Egor? Tell her! It was just a… a stress test for your relationship!»
«Yana, honey, calm down, let’s talk…» Egor reached for her, but she stepped back.
«Talk?» Yana let out a cold laugh. «What is there to talk about? About how you were planning to swindle me out of my apartment? Or how your mommy already found you another bride from a ‘respectable’ family?»
«That’s not what we meant!» Anastasia jumped up from her chair. «You misunderstood!»
«Oh?» Yana turned to Egor’s sister. «And how exactly was I supposed to understand the phrase ‘stupid to let a chance like this slip away’? Explain that to me.»
Anastasia opened her mouth, but no words came out.
«That’s enough,» Yana said, pointing toward the door. «Get out. Now.»
Maria Petrovna scrambled up and grabbed her purse.
«Fine! Stay here all by yourself then! You think you’re going to find another fiancé like him on every street corner?»
«I don’t need a fiancé like that,» Yana replied coldly. «Will you leave on your own, or do I need to call the police?»
Nikolai Sergeyevich was the first to head for the door, with Anastasia trailing behind him. On her way out, Maria Petrovna stopped in the doorway and turned back.
«You’ll regret this. Nobody wants your pathetic little apartment. And nobody wants you, either.»
«Goodbye,» Yana said, swinging the door wide open.
Egor’s family filtered out into the hallway, but Egor stayed behind. He stood in the middle of the living room, looking at Yana with a bewildered expression.
«Yana, please, let’s just talk about this…»
«There’s nothing to talk about.» Yana walked into the bedroom, pulled a large duffel bag out of the closet, and began stuffing Egor’s things into it—jeans, t-shirts, hoodies.
«What are you doing?» Egor followed her.
«Packing your bags. You’re moving out.»
«Yana, wait! I love you! I really do! My mother is just… she’s like that, you know? She always sticks her nose where it doesn’t belong!»
«Then why didn’t you tell her she was wrong?» Yana turned to face him, crossing her arms over her chest. «Why did you stay silent? Why did you agree to ‘give it a try’?»
«I didn’t agree!» Egor protested. «I just… I didn’t want to start a fight with my mother!»
«But starting a fight with me is no problem, right?»
«Yana, you have to understand…»
«I understand perfectly,» Yana said, turning back to the bag. She shoved the last hoodie inside and zipped it shut. «You’re a weak man. You can’t stand up to your mother, and you were willing to betray me just to keep her happy.»
«That’s not true!»
«It’s exactly true. Take your bag and go.»
«I have nowhere to go!» Egor clutched his head. «It’s late! It’s the middle of the night!»
«Not my problem,» Yana replied indifferently. «Your parents have an apartment. Go to them.»
«Yana, enough!» Egor tried to pull her into an embrace, but she recoiled sharply.
«Don’t touch me. And give me the keys.»
«What keys?»
«To my apartment. The ones I gave you when you moved in.»
«Are you serious?»
Yana held out her hand. «Put the keys on the table. You have no business being in my home anymore.»
Egor’s face turned a deep crimson. He reached into his jeans pocket, pulled out a ring of keys, and slammed them down on the coffee table.
«You’ll regret this!» he yelled. «You’ll end up all alone in this dump of an apartment!»
«Get out,» Yana said, picking up the bag and thrusting it toward him.
Egor grabbed the bag, spun around, and stormed out the door, slamming it behind him. Yana walked over, turned the deadbolt all the way, and latched the security chain. She leaned her forehead against the cool wood of the door and closed her eyes.
Silence. The apartment was quiet and empty. Yana went back into the living room and sank onto the sofa. The ring sat on the table next to the wedding invitation samples that would never be needed. She picked up the ring, turning it over in her hands. It was beautiful. Expensive. A lie.
Tears welled up in her throat, and she finally let them go. She cried quietly, silently—from the pain, the insult, and the relief. A year and a half of her life, wiped away. Her plans had collapsed. Her wedding was canceled. But she had saved herself. She had saved her dignity and her grandmother’s home, which was worth more to her than any man.
Yana wiped her tears, stood up, and began clearing the table. She threw the invitations in the trash, poured the tea down the drain, and washed the dishes. Then she pulled out her phone and messaged her group chat with her girlfriends: «Hey girls, the wedding is off. I’ll tell you everything when I see you.»
The phone immediately exploded with messages and calls, but Yana muted the sound and set it on the nightstand. Right now, she wanted silence. She needed to be alone to process everything that had happened.
A few days later, a message arrived from Egor. He said he missed her, that he loved her, that his mother was wrong, and that he was ready to cut ties with her for Yana’s sake. She deleted it without responding. Then came another. And another. Yana blocked his number.
Maria Petrovna tried calling about two weeks later. She rambled on about how Egor was a wreck, how Yana should forgive him, and how all families fight but eventually make up. Yana listened calmly and then hung up. Maria Petrovna didn’t call again.
Her friends supported her as much as they could. They showed up with wine and cake, turning her apartment into the site of impromptu girls’ nights. Svetka—the one whose birthday party had brought Yana and Egor together—offered a guilty apology.
«I’m so sorry I introduced you to that… guy. I had no idea he was like that!»
«It’s fine,» Yana smiled. «Better to find out now than after the wedding.»
«I’m proud of you for kicking him out,» said her other friend, Vika. «I don’t think I could have been that decisive.»
«You could have,» Yana countered. «When you realize you’re being used, the strength just finds you.»
The fall passed quickly. Yana decided to give the apartment a small refresh—not for anyone else, but for herself. She put up new wallpaper in the hallway and changed the curtains in the bedroom. She kept her grandmother’s old furniture; it was a precious memory.
One day in November, as Yana was coming home from the grocery store, she ran into Egor near her building. He looked tired and haggard.
«Hi,» he said tentatively.
«Hi,» Yana replied, trying to walk past him.
«Wait,» Egor blocked her path. «Please, let’s talk.»
«About what, Egor?»
«I miss you. Truly. I realize I made a mistake. I’ve been fighting with my mother because of you. I told her she was wrong.»
«Good for you,» Yana nodded. «I’m happy for you.»
«Yana, let’s start over. I’ve changed. I swear.»
Yana looked at him, her gaze steady and level. «Egor, you haven’t changed. You just realized what you lost. If you really loved me, you would have protected me from your family back then, in the living room. But you stayed silent. And that says everything.»
«Yana…»
«Goodbye, Egor. I wish you the best.»
She walked around him and entered the building. She went up to her floor and unlocked her door. Yana kicked off her shoes, went into the kitchen, and set her groceries on the table. She turned on the kettle. Outside the window, the first snow of the year was beginning to fall.
Her phone vibrated—a text from Svetka: «Yanka, movie tomorrow? A new one just came out, looks great.»
Yana smiled and typed back: «I’m in. What time?»
Life went on. Without Egor, without his family, and without the lies and betrayal. Yana didn’t regret a thing. She had saved herself and her home, and that was more than enough to keep moving forward.
