Chapter 3

Turning away from Janis, I look in front of me for a long time, dreaming of only one thing: to leave the restaurant and get on a plane to Moscow. In a few days I will get rid of the train of memories of this chance meeting, and everything will be as before.

I don't think I've eaten anything today. It is necessary, like Nolik, to occupy my hands and brains with something, just not to think that Janis is a few meters away from me and can come up at any moment. Although ... if I were in his place, I would not fit. I wouldn't even come close to a metre.

I raise my wrist, which wraps around the elegant bracelet of the watch. The height of the evening, there were many plans for it, but to stay here is equal to intersect with Bagdasarov. And I don't want that. From the word "absolutely".

- Let's go.

Having dragged Nelly to a secluded corner on the other side of the table, I shift my gaze out the window, to the lights of the evening city, trying to calm the excitement and trembling in my hands.

“I wonder who that girl is with him?” Nellie asks quietly, continuing to absorb goodies from the table on her nerves.

“Not interesting at all,” I cut her off sharply.

There is some speculation as to who this girl is, but whoever she is, I shouldn't care. None.

- Funny, don't you think? Both of you are paired with fair-haired... Well, you understand why. And Bagdasarov? Was he really so hooked that you then took this damned salon?

- Still hooked. And not only this. Oh, Nellie, do not reopen old wounds, I ask.

I would not be surprised if Goncharov, for his part, helped to turn Janis away from me completely, and, perhaps, somehow added fuel to the fire of his hatred. Because Bagdasarov, after that conversation, disappeared from the horizon, as if he had never been in my life. As I warned you, he went into the shadowban. In fact, they sent me there. Probably, the health problems that began in his brother and my absolute indifference also played an important role, or maybe something else, I don’t know. And I don't want to know.

“Bagdasarov approached his companion and said something in her ear, while looking in our direction,” Nelly reports.

“God, Nolik, stop. Pretend, like me, that he's not here. Let's change the topic. You are welcome.

- I can't, Alena. You were very worried then, Lenar and I even postponed the wedding due to this. This is not forgotten, she says. - All gone. Jan returned to Ivashchenko, and his passion went to Angelica.

Which, fifteen minutes later, comes up to us with Janisa's girlfriend. Heck. Well, why, you ask? He asked her, didn't he?

Nellie sighs in displeasure, putting her glass of juice on the tray.

- I'll grab her hair someday if she doesn't stop spinning around me and Lenar. I swear.

“Good afternoon, Nellie,” Ivashchenko’s daughter greets politely, having caught up with us, and then looks at me with an inquiring look. - You seem to be Alena?

I nod in greeting, wishing I had more champagne. But that's enough for now.

“Hello, Angelica,” Nellie responds in a friendly tone. Yes, this is Alena. Henry's girl. And you? .. - she smiles sweetly at Jan's companion.

I understand perfectly why Nolik says this. And why is he behaving like this? The theater stage is clearly crying over it.

— Veronica. Vezhina. The girl holds out her graceful hand to me.

Now I, too, begin to feel annoyed, like Nelly, but I can’t really immerse myself in these feelings, because Jan’s passion, in the process of unobtrusive communication, allegedly accidentally spills a glass of champagne on my dress and immediately begins to pretend to apologize.

All doubts about who this lady is for Janis and what they whispered about disappear. Pride does not allow you to approach in front of everyone, right, Jan? Do you want a private audience behind closed doors and without prying eyes? But why?

- I accidentally, - Veronika continues to apologize falsely.

I want to swear loudly. She's by accident, right? I cast a wary glance towards Janis.

- Nothing. It's all right," I calmly assure Veronica. - I'll go away for a minute.

I turn to Nellie, showing her with my eyes to stand still and continue to pretend friendliness.

There is no soul in the toilet. Although recently someone was. It smells of cigarettes and women's perfume. After washing my hands and wiping the hem of my black dress with napkins, I straighten up and notice Bagdasarov, who is standing in the doorway and watching me.

I don't understand what you deserve. The fact that in the past we were together and badly parted? But it happened. I didn't want that kind of ending.

Glancing at Janis with a quick glance, I throw the napkins into the trash can and, trying not to look him in the eyes, I go to the exit, but Bagdasarov blocks the way.

“Oops,” Jan says casually as I try to get around him.

I take a step to the side, but Janis also takes it, not letting me pass.

Are you in a hurry, Alyona? he asks in a calm voice, raising an eyebrow slightly.

- Yes. Could you please leave?

— I couldn't.

Bagdasarov suddenly starts advancing on me, slashing his gaze, which tears me to shreds. I back away until my shoulder blades are pressed against the cold wall, realizing that I have fallen into a trap.

“They are waiting for me in the hall,” I try to speak as calmly as possible, but not a penny inside the serenity.

- They'll wait.

My chest hurts, shrinks under the onslaught of strong feelings caused by a sudden meeting in a beauty salon and its continuation in a restaurant.

With a slight tilt of his head, Jan comes close, and I am paralyzed by his proximity. A farewell scene at the airport flashes before my eyes, our intertwined fingers, a whisper in our ear ... Parting, all my words and deeds too. One is inseparable from the other. No way.

- Not necessary. I try again, but Yang doesn't even move.

- Need.

Bagdasarov scans me with narrowed eyes. For a long time. Persistently. I feel like a witch tied to a post, at whose feet a fire is being made. It's getting hot, I want to push Janis away and leave. But I'm afraid to touch it. And those wild eyes opposite... He still hates me. It didn't seem to me. But why then did it all start? I would have ignored it and not approached.

Got a new fan?

- Started, - I answer in monosyllables, taking an example from him.

The half-smile leaves the manly face.

I'm about to push Ian away, saying I'm in a hurry, but he puts his hand on the wall above my shoulder and roughly presses his whole body against me. I would like to blurt out something again so that Bagdasarov is skewed and he moves away from me. Preferably forever. Because its closeness and powerful energy are like a sharp razor, which is led along healed wounds, ripping them open again.

With his free hand, Bagdasarov reaches out to my face and runs his finger along my cheek, outlines a mole, and with his eyes seems to be saying: “How can you be such a beautiful and heartless bitch, Alena?” That's right, Jan!

I try to turn away, but Bagdasarov's fingers close painfully on his chin, forcing me to look into his face. And before his eyes become softer, a very long time passes. The sharp blade manages to slash the heart several times, leaving deep cuts. Also... I notice the scars on Janis's arms. They are the same as Andrei had when he scalded his palm with boiling water.

Janis's breathing is heavy, like after a fast run, although outwardly nothing betrays his emotions. Have you learned to control yourself? Judging by how closely he presses against me, pressing into the wall, hardly. There is too little distance between us. Too much.

“Alive,” Yang chuckles softly and is silent for a while, and then beats backhand with words: “But I constantly dreamed that she had died. He exhales raggedly into my cheek and lightly touches my skin with hot lips.

For a moment I close my eyes. What he hears is unbearably painful. I blink frequently to keep the tears from rolling out of my eyes. Died, right? It's all right, Jan. Are you having prophetic dreams again?

When I begin to noticeably tremble, Bagdasarov abruptly removes his hands and moves away, his gaze becomes distant.

- What kind of stupidity does not dream of, - Jan concludes shortly with notes of sadness.

It takes a lot of effort for me to pull myself together and not howl with annoyance.

- Are you in a hurry? Go, he nods at the door. - I don't hold any more.

I would love to, but my legs seem to be stiff. It is impossible to escape from what is inside, and there is now hell. I take a step. More. Movement is difficult. As if weights were tied to the legs.

“Alena,” a hoarse voice calls from the door.

I freeze. It is terrible to turn around and meet Bagdasarov's eyes again.

- Have you moved to St. Petersburg? he asks.

Still, I turn around.

- And what?

Jan goes to the windowsill and pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pants pocket. He adjusts the collar of his shirt, clutching one in his teeth, and shrugs indifferently.

- If Neiman and Kamaev create a few problems and movement, - he smiles wryly, - I wonder if someone will want to help them in a difficult situation?

Seeing how I twitched at his words, Janis lets out a jet of bluish smoke in my direction and innocently rolls his eyes, they say, did he say something wrong, Alena?

It would be better to hit than to mock and hurt like that, before sending his mistress or escort to pour champagne on me, so that later he would be alone with me.

"You won't do it, will you?" I whisper.

- I do not know. Yang purses his lips again in an ironic grin. - Okay. Go, - nods at the door. - You've probably been waiting for. I hope to see you again,” he winks, and I feel sick at what I see in the depths of his dark eyes.

- I hope no.

I'm out the door.

Lord, may Bagdasarov come to his senses and leave me alone. I just recently came to my senses after all the emotional upheavals. I don't want to bring up the old. And if he is still as stubborn as before, then it’s time to look for Goncharov’s business card so that he somehow influences Janis and straightens his brains. If it is, of course, in his power.

In the corridor I run into Heinrich. Neiman catches me in his arms and draws me to him, carefully examining me.

- Everything is good? Nellie said you need help. You are trembling all over, Alyona…” he remarks. - What happened?

I instinctively press myself against Neiman, deafened by my own heartbeat. And when I hear Bagdasarov's voice behind me, my heart even threatens to break my chest.

“I frightened your companion a little with my unexpected appearance in the ladies' room. Messed up the doors. Sorry again... I don't know your name, beautiful stranger. I didn't mean to scare you,” Jan says to me until I take my face off Neiman's black shirt-covered chest. - Have a nice evening.

Confident steps soon subside, and I feel a little better. But my head is still a mess. I understood that I would have to live with the consequences of my choice, but I could not imagine that it would be so hard.

Neiman lifts my face with two fingers, forcing me to look at him.

I was accidentally doused with champagne. I was washing a stain in the toilet when this man came in ... I was upset that I would now walk around “beautiful” for the rest of the evening, I sadly state, nodding at the soiled hem of my dress.

- Do you want to leave? Heinrich asks, as if sensing my mood.

“I want to,” I answer honestly.

“Then let’s go say goodbye to the Kamaevs, and I’ll call a taxi,” Neiman says, hugging my waist.

I don’t really like the idea of returning to the hall, but it seems that I have already experienced the worst of that evening. A few minutes ago.