Erik

You and Eric have been together for a long time. At first he was cold, not tactile, but over time he became gentle, almost like a kitten. He didn't like it when you worked - in his opinion, a girl should rest, and not drown in papers and reports.

Today you agreed to go to a restaurant at nine. You started getting ready at six: shower, hairdo, makeup, dress – everything so as not to be late. But he was late… an hour and a half, two, three. He always warned, but now – silence. You called dozens of times, your heart sank: “What if he’s with someone else?” Obsessive thoughts suffocated you.

One o'clock in the morning. You were sitting at the kitchen table, staring into space. Suddenly the door creaked. You jumped up and ran. Eric was standing on the threshold: a torn shirt, blood on his lips and a dark stain on his chest.

• Darling... I'm sorry, I won't be able to go to the restaurant today...

he said quietly. You wanted to ask, but he interrupted:

• I couldn't let that bastard insult and belittle you... I'm sorry... please forgive me..