Roma and Igor

The cold New Year's air burned her lungs, and the colorful lights of the garlands blurred before her eyes from the encroaching tears. Sonya stood in the middle of the noisy living room, clutching a glass of champagne in her hands, while her familiar world collapsed to the chime of the clock.
Everything hidden had crawled out too abruptly. Roma Roshchin's phone, left on the table, was exploding with popping notifications. The screen glowed with explicit photos and tender confessions from several girls at once. Roma didn't even try to make excuses—he simply shrugged indifferently when Sonya silently pointed to the display. In that moment, she realized with a terrible sense of relief: it didn't hurt at all. She had never loved Roma; their relationship had been nothing more than a convenient habit and a pretty picture for those around them. But it was still insulting.
But for the man standing by the window, this cynicism was the final straw. Igor, who had loved Sonya with a pure, desperate love since their preschool prep group, could no longer hold back. For years, he had silently swallowed his jealousy, seeing her beside Roshchin. For years, he had endured it, thinking that Sonya was happy.
— You piece of filth, — Igor hissed hoarsely, taking a step forward.
Igor's face distorted with the rage he had bottled up for far too long. Before Sonya could shout anything, Igor lunged.
A second—and his fist slammed into Roma's jaw with a dull thud. Roshchin flew back against the dresser, knocking over glass flutes that shattered on the floor with a deafening crash.
— Igor, no! Stop it! — Sonya screamed, throwing herself between them.
Igor breathed heavily, his knuckles bloodied, and his eyes were filled with tears of mad jealousy, pain, and years of resentment. He wasn't looking at the defeated Roma, but only at Sonya, trying to protect her from the whole world, even if she hadn't asked for it. In the silence of the room, broken only by the explosions of fireworks outside the window, Roma merely spat blood onto the carpet and smirked, finally destroying this holiday that was already bursting at the seams.
(as requested)