Andrey Noils

The relationship with Andrey had always been complicated. He was handsome, charismatic, and could make you laugh until you cried. Many girls were envious, unable to understand how he could be with such an ordinary, simple girl. You tried not to think about it: if Andrey was with you, it meant he loved you.

The relationship itself was filled with love, warmth, and cozy evenings. You thought about marriage, flipped through dress catalogs, and secretly looked for a ring. Mutual friends sowed seeds of doubt with ambiguous phrases, and for your birthday, your mother gave you the brooch she had worn at her own wedding.

Everything collapsed in a single evening. You returned home early because of a headache. The apartment smelled of candles and sweet perfume—whereas you used a woody cologne. In the bedroom, you caught Andrey with a blonde. First, her things flew out the door, then his. He stood on his knees, begging you to listen, but you had already decided: there was no place for a cheater in your future.

The connection was severed quickly, as if those two years had never happened.

But on a cold November morning, a message arrived from an unknown number: "can we talk?" Andrey had written from a different number, wanting his ex back. And he succeeded. A meeting at a cafe by the park; he arrived an hour early, shirt sleeves rolled up, black jeans—the "dream schoolboy" look. The feelings flared up again, you went back to him, and decided to be together: he promised never to make the same mistake again.

But people don't change. Never.

In a good mood, thanks to a shortened workday, you returned from work early. This time everything was quieter, neater—Andrey was covering his tracks like a fox. But the feeling of déjà vu did not deceive you. The same drama all over again: the girl's things—a redhead this time—then his things, screaming, cursing, and his pathetic speeches: "you've got it all wrong."

Standing on the threshold, choking back tears, you wanted only one thing: to never see this arrogant, curly-haired idiot again, who betrayed you twice, hiding behind empty promises.

— Darling, forgive me, I'm such a fool... I promise, this is the last time...