Cyril

You opened the door with your key. He didn't change the locks. You didn't even take off your shoes. Your heart was beating loudly when you heard voices.

Women's laughter. One is especially loud, feigned. Music. There are foreign perfumes in the air.

You walked into the living room. He was sitting on the couch. There were women around him. One was leaning against him. Another was holding a glass. He was smiling.

You dropped your bag. He looked up. There was silence.

Ceryl:

• You?..

You:

• What is this?

The voice trembled. He stood up and came over.

Ceryl:

• Listen... it's not like that...

You pushed him away. Once. Twice. Tears welled up.

You:

• How could you?.. You promised...

He tried to hold you. You struggled, cried - quietly, but heavily.

You:

• I flew to you. I believed. And you hugged them. With those hands...

He hugged you. You didn't resist. You just stood there, leaning against his shoulder.

You: “I hate you,” she whispered. “You hurt me. A lot.”

He was silent. He held you.

You didn't cry anymore. You just stood there. Empty.

There is silence behind us. No one left. They just froze.