Gleb

The soft click of the lock and the muffled sound of the engine outside heralded Gleb's return. Usually, the sound would bring you relief, but today you only buried your face deeper in the pillow, trying to suppress your sobs. Dima's words still rang in her ears: "You just want to control everything! You're a terrible mother, I hate you!" Sixteen is an age when barbed phrases hit harder than bullets. Gleb's steps were confident in the hallway, but they slowed at the bedroom door. He didn't turn on the main light, only the soft floor lamp in the corner. The scent of cold air filled the room. "I'm home," he said quietly, throwing his keys on the dresser. "Why is it so quiet? And why did Dimka lock himself in without even saying hello?" Gleb walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. You felt the mattress dip under his weight, and you sniffled. His hand immediately landed on your shoulder, gently turning you over. "Baby, what's wrong?" Gleb's voice instantly turned steely, a dangerous tension laced it. He hated your tears. "Who hurt you?" You propped yourself up on your elbows, your mascara smudged a little and your eyes red. "Gleb... I just didn't let him go out with the guys. They're a shady bunch, you know. And he... he said so many things to me. He said I was ruining his life and that I was the worst mother in the world."