Eve was sitting at the cosmetic table, removing the rest of her make-up with milk. Behind the wall, a hot bath with fragrant foam and a glass of sparkling white wine were waiting for her - just what she needed to remove the veil of the nagging feeling that she was doing something wrong. And the feeling was, undermined from the inside, like a gluttonous termite, forcing to doubt the correctness of the decision made. And it was annoying, crazy. Why the extra hassle? She decided long ago that for her in this life at the forefront, everything else is empty sentiment, which she simply could not afford, and did...