My fingers trembled and went cold; anxiety stole my breath, and my skin was covered with a sticky, icy fear… for him—my beloved, the once-forgotten man I loved beyond words. You bastard, traitor—so arrogantly thick-skinned, and, as our last conversation proved, utterly cold-hearted—just live… Live, damn you! What am I doing?! Why am I running headlong to the hospital, trying to find out even a shred of information about the condition of my little sister’s husband? I don’t know—I can’t do otherwise… Because the photographs from the accident scene sent by my former colleague from the firm “Everest” were terrifying. I have to make sure he’s all right. After all, no matter how many reasons I had to despise him, even to hate him, I never wanted his death— not even at the moment when the illusory little ball of my invented perfect love burst. Live, Sasha, breathe with your lungs; gather yourself piece by piece; recover; stay the same magnificent man—one look at whom knocks the socks off unsuspecting office girls.
Contains profanity.