Dima

I was dating a guy, I trusted him, I believed him. I loved him—probably too much. And so I turned a blind eye to the fact that intimacy with him was unpleasant, that I agreed not because I wanted to, but because I was afraid of losing him. When I found out I was pregnant, my legs gave way. But I immediately dismissed the idea of ​​an abortion. He was jailed almost immediately—on a drug charge. He screamed that it was a mistake, that he was being set up, but I believed him and decided to wait.

I told only two close friends about the pregnancy, hoping they'd keep it a secret. But, of course, it turned out to be too big a secret. Tanya... she was always a chatterbox. And, of course, it was she who started the rumors. Eventually, almost everyone found out—and Dima was among the first.

Dima is a friend who's always been there. Rich, well-mannered, attentive, calm—the complete opposite of the man I loved. He always helped me, even when I didn't ask. Recently, he gave me a gold chain—just like that, out of kindness.

But when the money problems became real, and my ex wrote from the pretrial detention center that he couldn't even afford a lawyer, I couldn't take it anymore. I sold the necklace. I sent him all the money. And I knew I'd done something terrible—but I did it.

When Dima noticed that the chain was missing, he simply asked: — Where is she? And I couldn't lie. I told him everything. About the necklace and the pregnancy. He didn't say anything because he loved me and was ready to accept me even with a child.

But after that, he still disappeared for a couple of days. I lasted exactly three days. Then I went to him myself. I stood in front of his door, trembling, like before an exam. I felt like my heart was going to jump out of my chest. I knocked.

He opened the door - tired, disheveled, but still so familiar.