З життя
Виявилося, що ми весь час орендували квартиру у свекрухи.
Як з’ясувалося, весь цей час ми орендували квартиру у моєї тещі.
Протягом двох років я думала, що ми орендуємо квартиру у зовсім іншої людини, але виявилося, що власницею квартири є моя теща. Я була просто приголомшена.
Ми одружилися два роки тому. Оскільки я походжу з села, у мене не було власного житла. Чоловік також його не мав, а теща жила з партнером у двокімнатній квартирі і попросила дорослого сина переїхати.
Після весілля вирішили жити разом, тому я переїхала до нової квартири з чоловіком. Ремонт трохи бентежив мене, не хотілося нічого робити у чужій квартирі. Я мріяла про іпотеку і власну квартиру.
Проте нам не вдалося відкласти на перший внесок. Наші зарплати були середніми – ледве вистачало на проживання. Я запропонувала чоловікові купити однокімнатну квартиру, але він не хотів. У його словах була частка правди. У нас були різні стилі життя, і ми не ладнали б в однокімнатній квартирі. Чим більше сварок, тим швидше розлучення. Ми не будували таких планів на майбутнє.
Чоловік навіть не хотів чути про оренду іншої квартири. Казав, що добре контактує з власницею, тож не варто ризикувати. Загалом ми не могли придумати спосіб заощадити більше грошей, а працювати сім днів на тиждень не хотілося. Якщо зараз складно платити за оренду, то як відкладати на власне житло?
Теща не втручалася в наші стосунки. Ми добре ладнали – нічого поганого не можу сказати. В неї було своє життя та хобі, тому навіть не мала часу нас відвідувати. Зустрічалися лише на свята, що влаштовувало нас усіх.
Ми прожили в цій квартирі два роки. Усіма платежами та іншими питаннями займався чоловік, адже мав контакти з власницею. І ось випадково дізналася, що орендуємо квартиру у тещі.
Нас запросили до неї на річницю. Там і зав’язалась розмова між нею та чоловіком про родичів. Обговорювали якесь весілля.
– Твоя кузина ще не заміжня…
– Ні, через прізвище сперечаються, не хоче його змінювати. А наречений вважає, що це ознака неповаги, – сказав мій чоловік.
– У першому шлюбі я теж не змінювала прізвище. Працювала в музичній школі, моє прізвище було відоме, навіщо це все? Лише в другому шлюбі я перестала бути Ковальчук.
І тут мене осяйнуло – це прізвище я бачила на рахунках за квартиру. Нічого не сказала, адже скандал зруйнував би свято.
Вдома я запитала безпосередньо чоловіка. Він не заперечив. Сказав, що ми платимо оренду його мамі. Вона не хотіла давати йому квартиру безкоштовно.
Я була шокована, а чоловік не бачив у цьому нічого поганого. Вважав, що зобов’язаний допомагати матері, тому всі мають користь.
– Якось все одно довелося б орендувати квартиру, а тут можна робити ремонт і жити роками, ніхто нас не вижене, – радісно сказав чоловік.
Схоже, що він правий, але мені не подобається вся ця ситуація. Як можна вимагати гроші від власного сина? Давним-давно ми б відклали на іпотеку, а теща поселила б тут чужих. Але користь важливіша…
Мій чоловік намагався заспокоїти мене.
– Візьми до уваги, що ми не будемо виплачувати іпотеку. Я єдиний син, квартира дістанеться мені.
– Так, саме тобі.
– Ну, що ти маєш на увазі? Адже ми не розлучимося.
Не знаю, що робити. Ця ситуація не дає мені спокою. Я не відчуваю себе добре в цій квартирі, хоча теж плачу зі своєї кишені. Як жити далі?
Is the Orchid Really to Blame? “Polly, take this orchid or I’m throwing it out,” Kate said, carelessly picking up the clear pot from the windowsill and handing it to me. “Thanks, Kate! But what’s wrong with this orchid?” I was surprised. After all, three more gorgeous, well-tended orchids stood in her window. “It was a wedding gift for my son. And you know how that all ended,” Kate sighed heavily. “I know your Denis got divorced before their first anniversary. I won’t ask why—I bet it was a serious reason. Denis adored Tanya,” I said gently, not wanting to reopen a fresh wound. “I’ll tell you the full story one day, Polly. For now, it’s just too much,” Kate said, getting a bit teary. I brought the “banished” and “rejected” orchid home. My husband looked sympathetically at the wilting plant. “Why do you want that poor thing? There’s no life in it. Even I can see that. Don’t waste your time,” he insisted. “I want to revive it. Give it some love and care. You’ll see—soon you’ll be impressed by this orchid!” I replied, determined to breathe life back into the drooping flower. He winked playfully: “Who ever turns down a bit of love?” A week later, Kate called: “Polly, can I come over? I can’t keep this bottled up anymore. I want to tell you everything about Denis’s failed marriage.” “Of course, Kate. I’m here whenever you need me,” I assured her—remembering how she’d supported me through two rocky marriages of my own… After all, we’d been friends for years. Kate arrived within the hour, settled in the kitchen, and for hours, over a glass of dry wine, a mug of coffee, and some dark chocolate, she shared the whole, tangled tale. “I never imagined my ex-daughter-in-law was capable of such things. Denis and Tanya were together for seven years. Denis left Annie—who I adored, by the way—for Tanya, who was just stunning. He was absolutely besotted, following her around like a lovesick puppy. Tanya looked like a model—men couldn’t help but stare. But for all those years, they never had a child. I figured Denis wanted everything by the book—get married, then have kids. Denis is private, and we never pried. Finally, Denis told us: ‘Mum, Dad, I’m marrying Tanya. We’ve booked the registry office. I’m throwing a huge wedding—no expense spared.’ He was thirty. We were thrilled that he’d finally settle down. But, Polly, the wedding date had to be postponed twice—once Denis got sick, then I was held up at work. It felt odd, but Denis was glowing with happiness—I didn’t say anything. Denis even wanted to have a church wedding with Father Christopher, but the priest was called back to his home parish. Nothing was going smoothly. It seemed like the world was warning us… The wedding was spectacular, noisy, extravagant. Here—look at the wedding photo. You see that orchid? Glorious, in full bloom. Its leaves stood tall like soldiers. And now? Just limp rags remain of it. …Denis and Tanya planned their honeymoon in Paris, but right at the airport, Tanya was barred from leaving the country—something about an unpaid fine. Denis swatted away these troubles like flies. …But then Denis got seriously ill. Ended up in hospital, things looked grim. Doctors were at a loss. Tanya visited for a week, then bluntly told him: ‘Sorry, but I can’t handle being married to an invalid. I’m filing for divorce.’ Polly, imagine my son—bedridden—hearing that. But he only said: ‘I understand, Tanya. I won’t fight you.’ So they divorced. But Denis got better—thanks to a wonderful doctor named Peter. And Peter had a lovely 20-year-old daughter, Mary. At first, Denis turned up his nose: ‘She’s just a slip of a girl—not even pretty.’ ‘Give her a chance, son. Looks aren’t everything. You’ve already had a model for a wife…Better to be happy drinking water together than sipping honey in sorrow.’ …Time passed. Mary totally fell for Denis—called all the time, trailed after him everywhere. So we tried nudging them together—day at the park, barbecue, campfire. Denis looked miserable, barely noticing Mary’s devotion. I told my husband: ‘It’s hopeless. Denis is still obsessed with Tanya. She’s a thorn in his heart.’ …Three or four months later—ding dong! It’s Denis, holding that infamous orchid. ‘Here you go, Mum—remnants of past happiness. Do as you like with it—I’m done with it.’ I took it reluctantly and basically ignored it, blaming the poor flower for my son’s heartbreak. One day, a neighbour says: ‘Kate, I saw Denis with that petite girl. His ex-wife was more glamorous, for sure.’ But then Denis announced, hand-in-hand with Mary: ‘Meet my wife—Mary. We got married quietly at the registry office, then Father Christopher married us in church. Mum, Dad, no big fuss this time! It’s forever now.’ I pulled him aside: ‘Denis, are you sure you love her? Is this for revenge against Tanya?’ ‘No, Mum. I’m over it. That woman is my past—I’m done even saying her name. Mary and I are right for each other.’ And that’s the tale, Polly. Kate finished her story, right down to the last detail. …Two years passed. Life swept us along. But the orchid? It flourished again—blooming beautifully after care and love. Flowers know how to say thank you. I met Kate at the hospital maternity ward: ‘Hi, mate! What brings you here?’ ‘Mary just had twins—being discharged today!’ Kate beamed. Denis and his dad hovered nearby, Denis clutching red roses. Out came exhausted but glowing Mary, with two sleeping bundles in tow. Then came my daughter, holding my own new granddaughter. Meanwhile, Tanya was begging Denis for forgiveness and a fresh start. …But glue a broken teacup, and no one really wants to drink from it…
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