The invitation is not for me/Приглашение не для меня - стр. 9
It was good that I had put my keys, which I had taken from Alex while running away from the restaurant, in my coat pocket. I hadn't thought about losing mine. I flew to the third floor, made sure that Alex wasn't waiting for me in the entrance, and entered the apartment.
The first thing I did was go to the bathroom, wash my face, and scrutinize the scattering of hickies on my neck. I'd have to hide them with a scarf, I couldn't blame it on the curling iron. And, having changed into a cozy sport suit, I went to the kitchen to drink coffee. It would also be nice to go to the drugstore or even ask my neighbor to do it.
No sooner had I settled down at the table, putting my injured leg on a neighboring stool, than the doorbell rang. Sighing, I hurried down the hallway, feeling a sense of unease. And it was justified! In the stairwell stood Alex, disheveled. He held his jacket in his hands.
The unfortunate thing is that if you pay attention, you can see a shadow on the other side of the peephole. Of course, Alex noticed me and angrily kicked the door.
“Marina, open up, we need to talk.”
“We?!” I was theatrically surprised. “It seems to me that we have nothing to discuss.”
"Marina! Open up!"
"I won't!" I responded.
The fact that he had come to reconcile was nice, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I really didn't want him to leave. But at the same time, I knew it was the end of the relationship. It would be better if I put an end to it myself.
“But where would I go? What did I do?!”
I even looked through the peephole to make sure my senses were right: he really didn't understand what he'd done. Apparently, it's normal for him to have relationships with more than one woman at a time.
“Fuck you…!!!!” – I shouted.
“Who needs you, you gray mouse?! You should be thanking me for everything!”
I couldn't believe my ears! I never thought I'd hear Alex say that. I thought we were going to part quietly… well, as quietly as possible. He'd find out I wasn't going to forgive him, take his things and leave.
“Well, then I won't take up your time. Go to the one you appreciate.”
Not listening to his scolding, I headed back to the kitchen, and on the way I turned on the TV and turned up the music channel. It partially blocked out the screaming from the stairwell, and at the same time showed that I wasn't listening to my ex-housemate's cries.
Trying to abstract myself from the situation, I decided to think about something else. My memory immediately brought up some particularly vivid scenes from last night. I had to give a natural shake of my head to stop thinking about it. It would be better for me to forget the adventure.