Dima

You and Dima had been dating for over a year. The relationship seemed perfect: complete trust and plans for the future. On this sunny day, you desperately wanted to spend some time together. You suggested going for a walk, but Dima refused, citing urgent business. Not wanting to make a big deal out of it, you decided not to waste the warm day, put on your favorite dress, and headed to the park alone.

The shaded alleys were pleasantly refreshing, and music played in your headphones. You walked along, enjoying the moment, until your gaze caught a couple by the fountain. Your heart skipped a beat. A familiar silhouette, a slight slouch—it was Dima. But he wasn't alone. Standing beside him, laughing flirtatiously, was Anna—your close friend, to whom you had entrusted all your secrets only yesterday.

You froze, unable to turn around and walk away. Dima smiled tenderly, wrapped his arm around her waist, and interlaced his fingers with hers. Time seemed to stop. The music in your ears was replaced by the deafening thumping of your own heart. The ground slipped from beneath your feet, and it felt as if all the air had been knocked out of your chest by the sharp pain of a double betrayal.

A first lonely tear slowly rolled down your hot cheek. At that very moment, like a bitter mockery of your shattered universe, a voice rang out piercingly in your head like a knell: «He's my man».