The invitation is not for me. Lydia Antonova - страница 3

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"What are you...? How...?" he muttered.
And then I realized: the restaurant was not for the middle class, not even for the slightly upper class. By dating her and living with me, he was risking nothing. We couldn't even cross paths by chance,only with the help of a staged meeting.
"Baby, who's that?" the blonde asked a little stiffly.
"Baby?!" I laughed.
"Really, explain to me who it is?"
“Just an acquaintance... “ he mumbled confusedly.
“Who "just an acquaintance"? Me or her?” I asked
sneering.
“ Let's talk calmly. You've got it all wrong.”
I laughed, the phrase clichéd and hackneyed. I was suddenly disgusted, wanting to cry, but I couldn't let him see my tears. It's okay, I'll be patient; they didn't train me at the school's councils for nothing!
As I rushed to the exit, I remembered my bag. I had to make a detour and come back.
“ And what, you won't even take the keys to the apartment? “ The "well-wisher" asked lazily.
The phrase shifted my thoughts again. I rushed back and grabbed Alex by the hem of his jacket.
“Give me the keys! This is my apartment! My grandmother gave it to me! “
“Young lady, what are you doing?! “ The blonde was outraged.
“I'm taking what's mine!” answered her and took out a bundle from the inner pocket of his jacket.
“Marina, what are you doing?! Calm down!”
“Ha!” I snorted and, unhooking the apartment keys from the rest of the bundle, threw it on the table. The glass they hit shattered and the plate burst.
“Get out of my apartment and live wherever you want!” I said the most terrifying phrase for a non-Moscow resident.
Turning around, she ran her gaze over to A. The man mimed a round of applause. He had gotten the gig he had hoped for and he was happy. Bastard! Flying up to him, I pulled a thousand rubles out of my bag and threw it on the table.
"It's for coffee," I informed him.
Now we can go out! Under the attentive gazes of the audience! I took my coat from the closet, found a corner and finally burst into tears! Tears were already running down my cheeks, but I managed to hold back the sobs.

***
I ran out of the restaurant, rounded the corner where the parking lot was, and dashed towards the lot. The car that backed up didn't hit me hard; I was more scared and hurt when I hit the asphalt. But that was the last straw! I burst into tears, hiding my face in my palms, sitting on the ground almost under the huge car.