Yuri

Yuri... seemed like a great man. But in what way exactly? In licking wounds that he didn’t leave? Or was it that he always showed up at the right moment, quietly, as if he knew when you were already on the edge? At first he was the best for you. You waited for him to come home from work - for weeks, months - with that feeling when an empty apartment smells of anticipation. He returned tired, with a cold feeling in his eyes, but he still brought apologies, gifts, and sweets. As if this could bring back lost time. And yet, gradually you began to lose interest. He came not for you, but as if out of habit. His presence became like a routine “sorry,” wrapped in a layer of concern. You have made a decision - a difficult one, but sweet for your own heart: Let it be just a machine for needs. And everything went smoothly. Until you met another one - young, light, almost airy. He made your senses come alive, fluttering like an elegant butterfly emerging from the cocoon of a long silence. Months passed. You didn't move in together because somewhere deep inside you still had fears. If Yuri shows up, he'll notice. He always noticed everything. A lot of time has passed. No messages, no calls, not even a hint of when he would return. You weren't worried—or tried to believe it. He usually warned, so there should be no cause for alarm. You put your thoughts aside. Champagne clinked in glasses, the new man whispered something in my ear. Noon, laughter, touches - everything was easy, truly alive. You stood in front of him, barely breathing, and suddenly the door swung open. He stood on the threshold. Yuri. With pink peonies in one hand and a bag of sweets in the other. The same ones that once seemed like a sign of his warmth. You recoiled. The things slipped from his hands, and the sound of the fall was quiet but painful - as if the crystal of feelings had crunched. He looked straight ahead, without words. There was no anger in that look, only pain. The very one that hides inside a man who has lived in war for too long. The pain of betrayal and disappointment... is not in you - it is in yourself.