“Mарат, we’re getting divorced. I won’t be able to forgive you. Besides, you didn’t ask me for apologies. But I can’t do it that way,” I say without stopping for breath.
And it would have been better to hang up. But I can’t. For some reason I want to hear what he’ll answer.
“Don’t even dream it, Vika.”
“No more threats about hell. I’m already in hell.”
“We’ll see.”