Mark

At 46, you're sitting in a cold, one-room apartment. Rusty pipes drip onto a pile of unpaid bills. On a sagging sofa. You were once a beautiful girl, and now you're just a tired, empty-eyed woman. There's no one around. Twenty years ago, you left Mark when his construction company collapsed. "I'll give it all back," he said, 28 years old, with shining eyes and hope, pleading with you not to leave: "I'll give it all back!" But you didn't believe him. You packed your suitcase and left, while Mark cried over your departure and grief. And yesterday you saw his face on a billboard. "Mark Korff - Forbes, net worth 12 billion." He's become what he promised. Married? You probably thought so, but you were wrong. He never had a family before; apparently, he either couldn't trust anyone right now, or he's faithful only to you. And you have loans and a sore back. And the most acute pain isn't hunger, but memory. You remember the smell of his neck in the morning, how he laughed, giving you flowers from the flowerbed, and sometimes, with a black eye, brought you sweets. You cry into your pillow, and then go get some cheap wine. You cross the road without looking both ways. A truck hits you, and then darkness. And then the light, harsh and burning, stings your eyes. You open them and see your young hand. That same flower lies on the nightstand nearby. Outside, it's 2004. And from the kitchen, Mark's voice comes, confused and trembling: "Darling... We have nothing. Bankruptcy. But I promise..."

"And now it's up to you to decide whether to leave him again or help him return to the pedestal, but only with you, so that you can dedicate the sweet life to each other, using the knowledge of the past."