Marina was slowly wiping the glass surface of the dining table when she heard the familiar sound of keys in the lock. Ilya had come home from work earlier than usual. She straightened up, fixed her hair, and greeted her husband with a smile.

“Hi, dear,” she said, approaching him. “How was your day?”

“Fine,” Ilya replied, loosening his tie. “Did Mom stop by?”

Marina nodded, trying to keep calm.

“Yes, she left about half an hour ago. She was praising your sister again.”

Ilya glanced at his wife but remained silent. Marina saw the tension in him. This topic always created awkwardness between them.

“What this time?” he asked, heading to the fridge.

“The same as always,” Marina sat down on the sofa, folding her hands on her knees. “Svetlana cooks better, Svetlana knows how to treat her husband.”

Their spacious three-room apartment with a modern renovation was always her pride. Light walls, cozy furniture, large windows — she had created it all herself. This was her personal space, her fortress. But even here, she could not escape constant comparisons.

“Mom is just worried about Svetka,” Ilya said, taking juice from the fridge. “Pregnancy is no joke.”

“Worried,” Marina repeated. “And that’s why she keeps saying we have three rooms but no children?”

Ilya froze. Marina saw him struggle to find the right words.

“She didn’t say that,” he finally said.

“Not directly,” Marina stood and went to the window. “But she’s always hinting. That a baby would have it hard in a one-room apartment, that Svetlana’s conditions are bad.”

Outside, the sun was slowly setting. Marina looked at the familiar outlines of houses in a good neighborhood. This was where she wanted to raise children. This was where she planned a happy family life.

“Her conditions really aren’t great,” Ilya said quietly. “The pipes leak, the windows are old.”

“So what?” Marina turned to her husband. “Is that our fault?”

“No, of course not. It’s just…”

“Just what, Ilya?”

He ran a hand through his hair.

“Mom just thinks we could help.”

“Help?” Marina turned to her husband. “How?”

“Well,” he avoided her gaze, “we have plenty of space.”

The air in the room became heavy. Marina understood where this conversation was heading. Her hands clenched into fists.

“You’re suggesting we invite Svetlana to live with us?” she asked slowly.

“Not forever,” Ilya raised his eyes. “Just until the baby grows up a bit.”

“How long will that take? A year? Two?” Marina began pacing the room. “And then what? Will she be comfortable? Will she stay?”

“Marish, she’s my sister.”

“And who am I?” she stopped in front of her husband. “Am I your wife or what?”

Ilya rubbed his forehead and sighed.

“Of course, your wife. But family is family.”

“Family,” Marina sat on the sofa. “I wonder what your mom means by that.”

Ilya turned to the window. Silence stretched. Marina saw how he clenched his jaw, fighting with himself.

“Let’s not talk about this now,” he said finally. “I’m tired today.”

Marina nodded, but inside she was boiling. She knew this conversation was just beginning. Her mother-in-law would not stop with hints.

Two weeks later, Svetlana gave birth to a son. Marina bought a beautiful gift and visited her in the maternity hospital. The baby was charming, with chubby cheeks and tiny fingers. Svetlana looked happy but tired.

“Thank you for coming,” she said, accepting the bouquet. “Mom said you don’t really like children.”

Marina gritted her teeth but smiled.

“Congratulations. What did you name the baby?”

“Artyomka,” Svetlana adjusted the blanket. “Mom is already planning how we’ll live.”

The next morning, the mother-in-law showed up at Marina’s place early. She brought a cake and sat at the table with a serious look.

“The baby needs fresh air,” she began without preamble. “You have a park nearby, and the elevator works.”

Marina poured tea, her hands trembling slightly.

“Yes, the neighborhood is good,” she agreed cautiously.

“It’s convenient to push the stroller,” the mother-in-law continued. “Unlike Svetka’s place. There’s a steep staircase, no elevator.”

Marina put the cup in front of the woman. Her heart was beating faster than usual.

“Valentina Petrovna, if you’re getting to something, just say it straight.”

“I’m just thinking about my grandson,” the mother-in-law sipped her tea. “Children grow fast; they need space.”

Marina sat opposite her, looking at the woman who had humiliated her for five years, comparing her to her daughter.

“Artyom is still very small,” she said calmly. “He’ll manage with a small room for now.”

“For now,” the mother-in-law nodded. “But then what? He’ll crawl, walk. It will be hard for Svetlana in a one-room apartment.”

Marina stood and walked to the window. Children played outside, riding bicycles. She imagined little Artyom among them.

“We will help as much as we can,” she said without turning. “Watch him sometimes, buy things.”

“That’s not enough,” the mother-in-law’s voice grew harsher. “The child needs proper conditions.”

Marina turned. Determination was clear in the woman’s eyes.

“What do you propose?”

“Think about it yourself,” the mother-in-law finished her tea and stood. “You don’t have children yet, and Svetka has a son.”

After she left, Marina sat in silence for a long time. The apartment felt too big and empty. She walked through the rooms, touching the furniture she had chosen with so much love.

In the evening, she told Ilya about the conversation.

“Mom is just worried,” he said habitually. “Don’t pay attention.”

“Ilya, she wants our apartment,” Marina sat beside her husband. “Don’t you understand?”

“Don’t make things up,” he shook his head. “She’s just worried about Svetka.”

Marina fell silent. She didn’t want to argue. But she knew — this was only the beginning.

A month later, the mother-in-law came for dinner. Marina cooked Ilya’s favorite dishes and set the table nicely. She hoped the family evening would be peaceful.

But Valentina Petrovna didn’t stay quiet for long. After finishing her salad, she put down her fork and looked at Marina.

“Temporarily swap apartments with my daughter!” she said firmly. “She has a son now!”

Marina froze with a piece of bread in her hand. The air thickened, her heart pounded.

“What?” she breathed out.

“You heard me,” the mother-in-law leaned forward. “For a year or two. The baby needs space.”

Marina looked at her husband. Ilya sat, tightly clutching his t-shirt with his fingers.

Minutes dragged painfully long. The mother-in-law waited for an answer, tapping her fingers on the table. Marina opened her mouth, but words didn’t come.

Suddenly Ilya lifted his head. Something new, unfamiliar flickered in his eyes.

“Mom,” he said firmly. “Stop.”

Valentina Petrovna raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“What did you say?”

Ilya got up from the table. His movements were decisive, his back straightened.

“The apartment belongs to Marina,” he said clearly. “There will be no temporary exchange.”

Marina froze. Her heart beat so loudly it seemed everyone could hear it. She couldn’t believe what was happening.

“Ilyusha,” the mother-in-law tried to stay calm. “You don’t understand. Svetochka needs help.”

“I understand perfectly,” Ilya crossed his arms over his chest. “But our family is not obligated to solve Svetlana’s housing problems.”

The air in the room was charged. Valentina Petrovna slowly stood, her face reddened.

“How dare you? I am your mother!”

“But I am your son. And I have a wife. Her interests matter more to me.”

It was the first time in all these years that he openly took Marina’s side. The woman didn’t know what to do with herself. Joy and relief overwhelmed her.

“I can’t believe it,” the mother-in-law turned to Marina. “You’ve turned him against the family!”

“No one turned me,” Ilya stepped between his mother and wife. “I made the decision myself.”

“Selfish!” Valentina Petrovna shouted, pointing her finger at Marina. “You have three empty rooms, and the child suffers in a one-room apartment! You’ve turned your son against us! He used to agree that Svetlana should live here!”

“I was wrong,” Ilya admitted. “I was used to listening only to myself. But now I think about my wife. Not only about you and Svetka.”

Marina stood and went to her husband. They stood side by side, shoulder to shoulder.

“We don’t have to give up our home. This is our life.”

“Your life?” the mother-in-law threw up her hands. “And what about my daughter, is she not a person?”

“Svetlana is an adult woman,” Ilya said firmly. “Let her solve her own problems.”

“People like her need an apartment more!” Valentina Petrovna shouted. “She has a son, and who do you have?”

Marina clenched her fists. Those words cut deep, but she held herself together.

“Enough,” Ilya stepped toward his mother. “Leave. Immediately.”

“What?” the mother-in-law couldn’t believe her ears. “You’re kicking out your own mother?”

“I’m asking you to respect our boundaries,” he opened the door. “There won’t be any more talks like this.”

Valentina Petrovna grabbed her bag and threw a hateful glance at Marina.

“Remember this,” she hissed. “I won’t forget.”

The door slammed loudly. Silence hung in the apartment.

Marina sank onto the sofa, her hands trembling. Ilya sat beside her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

“Sorry,” he said quietly. “I should have done this earlier. And sorry for trying to make you do the same before. I was wrong.”

She leaned against his shoulder. For the first time in years, she was not alone in this fight.

A week later, the mother-in-law tried to return to her old ways. She called Ilya, complaining about Svetlana, asking for help.

“Ilyusha, dear,” her voice sounded soft, pleading. “Svetochka cries every day. The baby is sick from the dampness.”

Ilya moved the phone to his other ear and looked at Marina.

“Mom, we already talked about this.”

“But understand,” Valentina Petrovna began to sob. “The baby is suffocating in that hole. And you have so much space!”

“The matter is closed forever,” he replied firmly.

“Will you really let your nephew suffer?” the mother-in-law’s voice became demanding. “Just for a month, Ilyusha! Marina won’t refuse the baby!”

Marina watched as her husband’s face tightened. Valentina Petrovna didn’t give up.

“Ilyusha,” she continued persistently, “you see what’s happening! Svetlana is completely exhausted!”

“No,” he sharply hung up.

The phone rang immediately again. Ilya muted it and put it aside.

Marina watched her husband with new respect. He stopped being a passive observer. Finally, next to her stood a man ready to protect their family.

Their relationship grew stronger. Marina realized an important thing — she deserved respect. And now she had a man beside her who upheld that respect.