She rushes to hug my husband and brazenly presses against him, leaving a light kiss on his cheek.
— Oh, I’ve smeared you, — with far too much familiarity she wipes the scarlet trace of lipstick from his skin.
— It’s nothing!
— Andryush, you’ve changed so much! How you’ve grown up!
— Sport and proper nutrition work wonders. And you’ve become a real beauty! Not that you weren’t before… but now — just wow!
— Thank you! — she pretends to be shy.
And inside me everything breaks with hurt. I stand nearby as if I don’t exist, while Andrey, with obvious pleasure, catches and absorbs the open flirtation of a stranger.
Only… this “stranger” seems to be one for me alone…