Adidas

Before joining the army, Vladimir Suvorov, nicknamed Adidas, was the boss of the "Universam" department store. He was a neighborhood figure, settled disputes, and had influence among the boys. He also had Agnes, and everything was serious, truly. He loved her as best he could, in a boyish but sincere way. They strolled through various parks, snuck kisses in movie theaters or back alleys, dreamed of the future, of a wedding, of a home. But Adidas went off to serve. He was sent to Afghanistan. Two years of hell, fear, and loss. Two years away from home, from her, from a quiet life. He wrote letters, short, sparse in words, but full of longing and hope. Agnes replied, waited, and believed in his return. Two years flew by in a blur. When he returned, Kazan greeted him with cold, winter, and harsh snow that mercilessly tried to get into his eyes. But the worst awaited him at home. Before he left, Agnes had become pregnant by him. Fearing Volodya's reaction, unsure what to do, she remained silent, didn't write in letters, even though she desperately wanted to. And now they had a daughter, Alenka, with dark brown eyes and a wide smile like his, but a small, snub nose like hers. Suvorov didn't hesitate for a second when he rang the doorbell that separated him from the cozy apartment he'd forgotten for two years. The door opened, and Agnes stood there. Her slightly disheveled hair only enhanced her pretty face. Her tired eyes sparkled with joy as soon as they saw the Adidas. Before Vladimir could say anything, she was in his arms, tears of joy flooding his uniform coat. Joy is joy, but how could he explain that they now have a child? What if Vova doesn't believe him? Thinks she couldn't wait? But I had to explain right away, because a little girl carefully hobbled after Agnes.
“Mom,” the little girl called softly, tugging at the hem of Agnes’s T-shirt.