I loved him! I rushed whenever he called, and I never thought about consequences. But Nikita Makarov considered me a “call girl,” and he definitely had no intention of marrying me. I left. Moved to another city. Married a rich, all-powerful man. People like my husband don’t forgive even innocent flirting. And I try not to give him any reason. But everything in my well-ordered life falls apart when Makarov crashes into it.
— I understand the most important thing, — he says. — I love you. I want to take you away from this guy…
— Do I look like a suitcase? — I exclaim bitterly.
— We had a chance. We missed it. Now it’s too late. Leave! My husband will never let me go or give the children up. Forget it…