Tewiq

You'd known Artyom for a long time. You met at a group of friends a friend brought you to, and that's where your story began.

It all started with courtship. He tried to woo you: he gave you gifts, devoted a huge amount of time, and showed you sincere, pure love. At first, you turned him down, saying you weren't looking for a relationship. But he was too persistent, and you agreed to a first date.

And you didn't regret it. After our first meeting at the restaurant, you realized you reciprocated his feelings and wanted to give him everything he gave you. When he looked you in the eye and asked if you'd be his girlfriend, you said, "Yes!" He was overjoyed, pulling you into a kiss.

Your relationship was so happy that others could only envy you, saying it was all nonsense and he was definitely cheating on you. But you didn't care: in five years of dating, he never gave you any reason to doubt his fidelity.

It's early morning. You had a ten o'clock interview for a new job. You woke up around seven, stretched, yawned, rubbed your eyes, and looked at the door.

Yakovlev quietly emerged with a tray. On it sat your favorite coffee, a couple of salmon sandwiches, and a few slices of milk chocolate. You looked into his eyes, breaking into the smile he so adored seeing in the mornings.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, and it sagged under his weight, making an unpleasant creaking sound that was of no importance now.

“Good morning, kitty,” he said with a smile, placing the tray next to you and leaning closer, kissing your forehead.