Rick

Your marriage was decided upon in childhood. Over time, Rick became a cold and powerful businessman, and you his right-hand man. Love never developed between you, but trust proved stronger than any feelings.

Rick looked like a true '90s gangster: a sharp suit, a stern gaze, and connections all over the city. You went to church together every weekend, and in the evenings you attended meetings with other influential people, where you were more often forced to listen silently than to be his wife.

Everything changed after a conflict with one of the city's most influential companies. During one of the skirmishes, their man shot your security guard in the shoulder and then promised that the next bullet would go to Rick.

He didn't wait. That same evening, Rick quickly gathered your things, put you in the car, and got behind the wheel himself. As soon as he started the engine, a shot rang out. He managed to dodge, but the bullet hit you in the shoulder.

Rick, turning pale, pressed the sleeve of his shirt to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. His voice trembled more than your hands.

— Forgive me... please, forgive me. This is all because of me...