I sit on the bed, my phone is clutched in my hand, and I stare stupidly at the wall.

"was wrong, refund"

How easy it is for him...

-Baby, what's going on with you? Who wrote to you?

Can tell? Suddenly feel better. Just don't tell me who he is...

I don’t need scufflers or firearms here ...

- you know... I... Damn, how difficult it is...

Anton is patiently waiting for me to be ready.

- Generally...

She told me... and somehow it became easier...

-who is he?

-doesn't matter.

- answer who?

-do not shout at me.

I'm sorry... my poor baby...

- Don't you dare feel sorry...