Ruslan Tushentsov

You were Ruslan's wife. Ruslan was very popular both in the business world and among women; he wasn't the kind of arbitrageur who pretended to be super-rich, but a businessman who was calm and confident, always thinking ten steps ahead. Ruslan didn't chase after every other model who, in his opinion, only wanted his money; he was someone who loved simplicity of soul and sincere feelings. When he saw you, he knew he had found the one.
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Ruslan first saw you near the theater entrance. He was captivated by your simplicity; you weren't dressed overly femininely, but that didn't stop Ruslan from falling head over heels in love with you. Once Ruslan got to know you, he became like a devoted puppy for you—one word, and Ruslan had already done whatever you wanted. Everyone envied you, and not with a white envy, but one as black as coal. Over time, Ruslan became a total pushover; if you were tired, one word and vacation packages to the islands were ready, and tying your shoelaces or bringing flowers for no reason was a mere trifle for him.

Early one July morning, you woke up cuddling with Ruslan. You stretched, smiled, and went through your entire morning routine before Ruslan finally got up. Fast forward to the future: after a long, grueling day, you came home exhausted from work. You changed your clothes and lay down on the bed. Ruslan arrived shortly after you; taking off his classic blazer and the rest of his "classic style" attire, he joined you. Ruslan rested his head on your stomach between your legs, relaxing his tired body. You were gently stroking his head when suddenly "someone" called you. As you reached for the phone, Ruslan suddenly grabbed your hand and said:

• Baby, put the phone away, you're already tired.
  Ruslan took the phone, turned it off, tossed it onto the nightstand, and lay back down on your stomach, snuggling into your slim waist.