
Your bonus is very timely, your sister needs to pay rent for the apartment six months in advance,” the mother ordered
Elena paused in the doorway of the kitchen, her feet planted like roots to the floor. Words piled up in her throat but didn’t come out. Her fingers curled tightly around her phone, still warm from the message her manager had just sent — the long-awaited bonus had finally come through. Three voice messages from Kate blinked on the screen, her best friend and almost travel partner for a long-planned getaway to Turkey.
“What?” she asked, barely audible.
Her mother didn’t even turn from the stove, where she stirred her signature borscht with slow, confident movements. From the living room came the cackling laughter of a reality show — Sasha, Elena’s younger sister, was sprawled on the couch, thoroughly entertained.
“You heard me,” her mother said. “Sasha and that boyfriend of hers — what’s his name… Max — they’ve found a place to rent. But the landlord wants six months’ rent upfront. And where’s she supposed to get that kind of money? Your bonus will cover it nicely.”
It wasn’t a question. It was a decree, spoken like a natural law.
Elena unzipped her coat and hung it on the hallway hook, taking her time. Every movement was practiced and precise — her tried-and-true way of containing the storm inside. Twenty-nine years of training had taught her to keep her expression smooth in front of her mother.
“Mom, I was planning to use that money,” she said carefully. “Kate and I already started looking at flights…”
“Oh, Kate again,” her mother scoffed, waving her spoon in the air as she checked on the pies baking in the oven. “Always dragging you off somewhere. You’re pushing thirty, Elena. Don’t you think it’s time to stop chasing the sea and settle down? Maybe think about a family?”
Sasha sauntered in from the living room. She was twenty-four but looked even younger with her platinum-blonde curls and a heart-shaped tattoo peeking from under her sweatshirt sleeve. She leaned against the fridge, casually spooning yogurt from a cup and smirking at her older sister.
“Why so serious, Ellie? You got the bonus — that’s awesome!” Sasha said, grinning. “Max found this amazing apartment, like, right next to a metro stop and a park. Super cute. And the landlady doesn’t even mind Max’s dog. But she wants six months upfront. You understand, right? It’s a great opportunity.”
Elena studied her sister — a mirror image of their mother in looks, but younger, airier, and always expecting things to fall into place. Unlike Elena, who had dark hair always pinned back in a bun, and eyes tired from too many long nights staring at spreadsheets and pitch decks.
“Why can’t Max pay?” Elena asked, her voice tight. “He’s twenty-seven. Can’t his family help?”
“They’ve got business problems right now,” Sasha replied with a dismissive shrug. “It’s just a rough patch. He’ll pay you back. We’re in this together.”
“Together,” Elena repeated slowly. “Which is why you want me to foot the bill.”
“Oh, c’mon, Ellie,” Sasha said, resting a hand lightly on her sister’s shoulder. “You can go to the beach anytime. But this apartment — this is now. Max and I need to see if living together works. You understand, don’t you?”
Their mother clucked her tongue from the kitchen.
“Test it all you want, but you should be thinking of a wedding.”
“Mom, nobody gets married right away anymore,” Sasha drawled, twirling her spoon. “Right, Elena?”
Elena stayed silent. She had spent four years working at a global consulting firm, recently promoted to senior analyst. She woke at six, worked till nine, often through weekends. Her last real vacation had been two years ago. She had booked and canceled several trips since then, always for “family needs.”
Sasha had drifted through four different jobs since college and now bounced between online courses in nail art and social media content creation. Max was a self-proclaimed entrepreneur, but mostly talked about ideas rather than acting on them.
“Elena,” her mother’s voice sharpened, “don’t be selfish. Your sister needs your help. This is about family.”
Selfish. The word hit harder than it should have.
Elena, who paid half the household bills and never once complained when Sasha used her bank card “just until Friday,” was being called selfish — again.
“I’ve been saving for this trip all year, Mom,” she said softly. “Just two weeks. That’s all I wanted.”
“Vacation,” her mother snorted. “There’ll be other vacations. This is important — your sister is building a future. You should be supporting her, not chasing cocktails on a beach.”
Sasha moved toward her, eyeing the phone in Elena’s hand.
“Five stars, huh?” she said after scrolling through photos. “Wow. You know, you could go somewhere cheaper. Like Bulgaria. Or even stay local. There’s sea in Sochi.”
Elena took her phone back, holding it tightly.
“I wanted something special. For once.”
Her mother nodded absently. “And you can have that. Later.”
Later. Always later.
“How much do you need?” Elena asked, already knowing.
“Two-fifty,” Sasha said quickly. “But for six months — a steal, right? That’s barely forty-something a month.”
Two hundred fifty thousand. Almost the full bonus.
“I…” Elena began.
“Elena,” her mother cut in, finally turning from the stove, “you’re not going to deny your sister. I didn’t raise you that way.”
The doorbell rang. Sasha lit up.
“That’s Max! I told him to come for dinner. Mom, can you set an extra plate? Elena, are you joining?”
“No,” Elena said. “I’m tired. I’m going to lie down.”
In her room, she sat on the bed, motionless. Her phone buzzed again — five messages from Kate:
“So? Bonus confirmed?? Swimsuits tomorrow? ;)”
“Earth to Ellie?”
“I found another hotel — amazing spa, right on the water. But booking closes tonight!”
“Girl, where are you?”
“Everything okay?”
Laughter echoed from the kitchen — Max’s booming laugh, Sasha’s giggles, her mother’s clattering dishes.
“Kate, I can’t go,” Elena typed.
“What?? Why not??”
She hesitated. How could she explain the pattern she’d spent her entire adult life stuck in?
“Family stuff.”
“Sasha again? Elena… when will you stop being everyone’s emergency fund?”
Elena didn’t respond. Her room felt smaller than ever. She stood, grabbed her coat, and slipped out.
“Where are you going?” her mother called.
“For a walk. Headache.”
“Don’t forget to transfer the money tomorrow.”
She didn’t answer. Just closed the door behind her.
On the embankment, she watched strangers walk past — couples, joggers, kids on scooters. Her phone buzzed again. Kate was persistent.
“Ellie, this isn’t okay. You said this year you’d finally move out. What’s stopping you?”
“Elena. Seriously. Say something.”
Elena stood at the railing, staring at the glittering skyline. The city was full of strangers — living lives untouched by obligation or guilt. She typed:
“I’m coming. I’m booking the tickets tonight.”
“YOU SERIOUS?? What about the family crisis?”
“They’ll have to handle it themselves.”
A strange calmness washed over her — like finally loosening a knot that had choked her for years. With cold fingers and a racing heart, she bought the tickets then and there.
—
The trip was perfect. Sunrises, wine, salt on her skin. Kate made her laugh again, like they were twenty-two, not burdened by duty. Elena felt lighter than she had in years.
Every night, dozens of missed calls. Her mother’s messages alternated between anger and guilt-tripping. Sasha’s texts were full of disbelief, questions, and finally — silence.
Back in the city, Elena returned to a quiet apartment. She unpacked, went back to work, and moved forward. One evening, she opened the listing she’d bookmarked weeks ago — a small studio with a view. She signed the lease the next day.
—
A month passed. One evening, her phone rang. “Mom.”
“Elena,” her mother said. “How are you?”
“Good,” Elena replied. “Settling in.”
A pause. Then: “Sasha broke up with Max. He left. She’s back home.”
Another pause.
“She needs money. The landlord didn’t refund the deposit.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Elena said.
“She’s trying to take a course. The new job requires it. Can you help? Just a little.”
“No,” Elena said firmly. “Not anymore.”
“But we’re family.”
“Yes. And in a family, everyone should carry their own weight. I should have said it long ago.”
“You’ve changed,” her mother whispered.
“No,” Elena replied. “I’ve just stopped pretending.”
She ended the call, placed the phone face-down, and turned back to her work.
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