— Lara, transfer the money to me, the loan payment is due tomorrow — Erik said without looking away from his laptop, where virtual battles were still raging.
Lara froze with the iron in her hands. Steam rose in thick clouds from the appliance, wrapping the ironing board in mist. Slowly, she placed the iron on its stand and looked at her husband. His broad shoulders were covered by a home T-shirt, and he seemed completely unaware of her words.
This monthly “transfer the money” had been going on for four years. But on that gloomy November day, something inside Lara broke.
— Erik… — she began quietly, struggling to keep her voice from trembling. — Do you really have no money at all? Last week I bought food, paid the bills, and almost nothing is left from my salary. How am I supposed to survive until the next paycheck?
Erik snorted, took off his headphones, and turned toward his wife. His face took on an injured expression, as if he’d been denied a sweet treat.
— Lara, we agreed. There’s a downturn in work now, no orders — he said.
— You work on commission, and the bank doesn’t wait. My mother has already received a reminder. Do you want debt collectors to start calling her? She has high blood pressure!
— And I have high blood pressure because of your complaints about money? — Lara pulled the iron’s cord from the socket. — Erik, I’ve been paying off this loan for four years.
For four years, I’ve been giving most of my income for an apartment where I am nobody.
— Here we go again! — Erik rolled his eyes. — How many times does this need to be repeated?
— We took it out in your mother Laura’s name to save on interest. It’s for the family! Family!
— What family? — Lara walked over to the window, where rain was drumming against the glass. — Legally, the apartment belongs to Laura. We’re just tenants. And I’m paying for someone else’s property!
— Are you accusing me over money? — Erik’s voice turned shrill. — I invested! I painted, I glued the wallpaper!
— We bought the wallpaper with my money. I’m tired, Erik. I was at the dentist today, I need a crown. There’s no money — because the loan is due tomorrow.
I have a five-year-old winter coat, and your mother is bragging about a new fur coat. Family.
— Don’t count other people’s money! — Erik jumped up. — That’s despicable! My mother let us live here, and you…
— She let us live in an apartment that I’m paying the loan for? What heroism!
— Enough! — he shouted. — Transfer the money and heat up dinner!
Erik put his headphones back on, making it clear the conversation was over. Lara stared at his back, feeling an icy emptiness in her chest.
Love, patience, hope — everything was gone. In their place remained a cold, calculated clarity.
Quietly, she left the room and opened her banking app. There was enough money for the loan and a little for daily expenses. Her fingers hovered over the “transfer” button, but Lara remembered yesterday’s conversation she had accidentally overheard in the kitchen.
When Lara came back from shopping, she heard Laura talking to Erik’s sister:
— Everything is going according to plan. The apartment is paid for, the renovation is done. Lara is trying hard. When everything is paid off, I’ll transfer it to you. And Erik? He’s unreliable — let others pay.
Lara tried to convince herself she had misheard. But today, looking at her husband’s indifferent back, everything became clear.
She closed the banking app and opened another one — an apartment booking app.
Ten minutes later, she returned to the room.
— Erik.
— Well, did you transfer it? — he muttered without turning around.
— No.
Erik’s game froze on the screen; the tank crashed into a wall.
— You’re joking? — he finally said, turning around.
— No. I’m not paying someone else’s loans anymore. This apartment belongs to Laura. Let the owner pay.
Erik turned pale and flushed at the same time.
— You were listening?
— By accident. But that’s not the most important thing. I’m not going to sponsor their family plans anymore. I’m only responsible for myself.
— My mother couldn’t have said that! — Erik shouted. — Transfer the money!
— No. Tomorrow I’m going to the dentist, and this weekend to a sanatorium. I need rest.
That evening, an argument broke out unlike any they’d had in all the years of their life together. Erik shouted, accused, tried to manipulate. Lara quietly packed her things — only what was necessary for the first days of a new life.
— If you leave, you won’t be allowed back in! — he yelled from the hallway.
— It’s not your apartment to decide who gets in and who doesn’t — Lara replied calmly. — Deal with Laura yourselves.
She spent the night at a friend’s place. It was hard, but at the same time light, as if a burden she’d carried for years had finally fallen from her shoulders.
In the morning, Laura called.
— Lara! What are you doing?! — her voice was angry and trembling. — Do you want to ruin my credit history?
— Good morning. The apartment is yours, the loan is yours. Pay it yourselves — Lara replied calmly.
— How can you?! — Laura screamed.
— I paid for the renovation and the loan. Everything else is not my responsibility.
The court case lasted six months. Laura tried to accuse Lara of illegal enrichment. But thanks to preserved documents and receipts, the court ordered Laura to reimburse Lara for the renovation costs and loan payments.
The sum was substantial.
After the trial, Lara felt free. She rented her own studio and built her life by her own rules. A year later, she managed to buy her own apartment — real, hers, without debts or other people’s claims.
Erik and Laura disappeared from her life. Only a memory remained, one that sometimes brought a smile:
“No one will give you freedom — you have to claim it yourself.”
And Lara understood the most important thing: respect for your own boundaries is not a favor — it is a right.
