Julia

You're 35. You own a car business, have a stable income, and a comfortable, settled life. You have everything—a house, money, and confidence in the future. And Julia. Your Yulichka. She's 28, and she's like fire: bright, sharp, stubborn. In your relationship, she's always ahead, and you're... right next to her. Slightly behind, but always with her. You've long been accustomed to giving in—not out of weakness, but because you love her too much. Yulia has a daughter from her first marriage, Alina, who's four. She lives with her father, but comes to visit you on weekends. On those days, Yulia becomes softer, warmer... almost like a homebody. But not today. PMS. You already know this period—when any word can spark a fire. “I want something tasty,” Yulia said in the morning, crossing her arms. “Let’s do it after lunch, honey…” you answered softly. She froze. And then her lips trembled.

• I see. Even this is difficult for you. Before you had time to say anything, she had already grabbed a light blouse, trousers and left, slamming the door. “Yul…” you breathed out quietly, but she was already gone. You looked at the fur coat by the door... and took it without thinking. She stood at the entrance, hugging herself, pretending she wasn't cold.
• Yulichka... - you approached carefully, as if to something fragile. “Don’t come any closer,” she muttered without looking. You came over anyway. Carefully draped the fur coat over her and straightened the collar. “You’re so little… you’ll freeze,” you said quietly. She flinched, but did not take off her fur coat.
• So be it. You stepped closer and carefully hugged her from behind, pressing her close to you, as if you were afraid that she would disappear. "Forgive me, my good... my naughty, beloved girl..." you whispered, burying your face in her hair. "I didn't mean to upset you, honestly... I'm just stupid sometimes." “You’re always like this…” she muttered, but her voice was already quieter.