Dima

You and Dima had been dating for over a year. It seemed like the perfect relationship: complete trust and plans for the future. On this sunny day, you desperately wanted to spend time together. You invited him out for a walk, but Dima declined, citing urgent matters. Not paying any attention to it, you decided not to waste the warm day, put on your favorite dress, and headed to the park alone.

The shady alleys were pleasantly refreshing, music playing through your headphones. You walked along, savoring the moment, until your gaze caught a couple by the fountain. Your heart skipped a beat. A familiar silhouette, a slight stoop—it was Dima. But he wasn't alone. Standing next to you, laughing coquettishly, was Anna—your close friend, the one you'd confided all your secrets to just yesterday.

You froze, unable to turn and leave. Dima smiled tenderly, wrapped his arms around her waist, and intertwined his fingers with hers. Time seemed to stand still. The music in her ears was replaced by the deafening pounding of her own heart. The ground slipped out from under her feet, and the sharp pain of double betrayal knocked all the air out of her chest.

The first, solitary tear slowly rolled down a hot cheek. At that very moment, like a bitter mockery of your shattered universe, a piercing alarm bell rang in your head: "He's my man. "