Julia’s Flat – And No Relatives
Julia was washing dishes when the doorbell rang. Standing on the doorstep, like a bolt from the blue, was her mother-in-law.
“Hello, Julia dear,” said Nelly Yuryevna with a sugary smile. “Thought I’d drop by for a visit. Just popping in!”
Julia invited her into the kitchen, put the kettle on, and called out to her husband:
“Vic, your mum’s here!”
A few minutes later, the whole family was sitting around the table. The mother-in-law stirred sugar into her tea slowly, eyeing her daughter-in-law with that particular squint Julia had long learned meant trouble brewing.
“You know, Vic,” Nelly began, “Danny’s asked little Emily to move in with him. Can you imagine? Before the wedding!”
“He’s in for it now,” Vic chuckled. “Our Emily won’t make it easy for him. Peace and quiet? Forget it.”
“You’re wrong!” Nelly retorted proudly. “Our Emily’s different. She’s modest, clever—not like some people…”
Julia caught the glance. The jab, as always, was meant for her. And once again, she pretended not to notice.
“Guess what else Danny’s done?” Nelly raised a triumphant finger. “He’s giving her a flat! For the wedding! Now that’s a real man!”
Vic pulled a face.
“We’ll see about that. Until I see the paperwork, I won’t believe a word.”
“That’s what happens when you make the right choice,” Nelly pressed on. “And here you are—married to a woman with a flat, and your name’s not even on the deed!”
Julia left the room. Her chest tightened. The same old tune—about “signing half over,” “fairness,” “family sticking together.” They’d been married a year, and all that time, Nelly had been angling for a piece of her son-in-law’s property.
Vic had started pressuring her too—saying his mates laughed at him, a bloke without his own place. He’d bought the car, paid for the refurb, and furnished it—but it was all still “hers.”
“No one tricked you, Vic,” Julia would reply. “You didn’t marry the flat. You married me. Or did you?”
He’d go quiet. Until his mother’s next visit.
When Vic’s bossy aunt dropped by, he spun a whole new tale.
“Yeah, we bought the flat. Mostly with my money,” he declared confidently.
Julia nearly choked on her tea. The lies flowed like water. She stayed silent—not for him, but for herself.
Then his mate Andy came round. Vic spread his feathers again:
“Make yourself at home, mate. The flat’s mine and Julia’s!”
“Nice one!” Andy said admiringly. “Got married, bought a place. And that motor of yours is brilliant!”
Julia watched, disbelieving. Where was the kind, straightforward bloke she’d fallen for?
She packed her things and left for her parents’.
“Mum, I can’t do this anymore. I feel like an investor, not a wife. He only married me for the flat…”
“Think it through, love. But that flat—don’t give an inch, you hear? Not a speck!”
Julia came back. Soon enough, the mother-in-law turned up again—unannounced, dishevelled, tears in her eyes.
“Vic, it’s awful! Danny’s dumped Emily. The wedding’s off. And she’s taken out loans—for a car, clothes, a phone…”
“What’s that got to do with us?” Vic stammered.
“We have to help. Julia should put your name on the deed. You’ll take out a loan, pay off the debt. We’ll sort it all later!”
Julia froze. Then snapped back.
“Never. That flat was a gift from my parents. You’re not getting a single percent of it!”
“Heartless!” Nelly shrieked.
Julia walked out but overheard mother and son whispering by the door.
“I tried, darling. But she won’t budge…”
“I’ll think of something else,” Vic muttered darkly.
Julia flung the door open:
“Go on, then! Think of something else! Just know this—you’re not getting the flat. Not a scrap. Want a place of your own? Work for it like everyone else!”
The next day, Vic moved back to his mum’s.
Julia filed for divorce. She realized too late—but better late than losing what was hers. Because some people’s greed has no limit. And dignity—that’s priceless.
