“Marry me,” Dan hurts, squeezing my elbow hard.
“What kind of fool are you… let go!”
“Let’s get married…” He shakes me.
“You’re sick! I’m a piece of trash. Everyone knows it!”
“Yes, you’re trash,” Osadchiy nods. “But you’re my trash.”
Me and Danyar Osadchiy have been together for two years. In his circle, I can’t stand to be tolerated by absolutely everyone—his relatives, his friends. I’m okay with that, because the main goal of my life is to get as far away from my hometown as possible, where I hate everything. That’s why I look at the offered ring in rage, hating Osadchiy for putting me in this choice…