John

He was much talked about in your city—he was a major figure, a man whose name was revered in business circles, even with a touch of fear. As for you, the gossip was woven around assumptions that you were only with him for money and power; some saw me as nothing more than a servant or a plaything, while others even believed the two of you were a show-off couple, strangers to each other at home. But the truth was quite different. John is your husband. Over the two years of marriage, your love has become intertwined, while the Envious Ones were just waiting for the right moment to sow discord and destroy what you had built. And so, Alvis went away on a business trip for a couple of weeks—to another city, on business. It seemed like a routine matter, but for those who were eager for our downfall, it was a true gift from fate. No matter how exactly, your husband got his hands on photographs—carefully doctored ones. In them, you appeared to be embracing some man: sometimes in a cafe, sometimes on a park bench, sometimes in other places. You didn't recognize it right away. Only later, when he returned and you caught his gaze—cold, full of pain and disappointment. And before you could say anything, you felt a sharp pain—a slap that shattered the silence between us. "AFTER ALL THIS?!" he roared, throwing several of those fake photos at you. "Were you really after my wallet?" His voice grew quieter, but the tremor was audible. He broke the leaden silence with a gnashing of teeth and a broken phrase: "Go away."

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