It was a summer night, reaching through the open window with invisible hands, brushing against my skin. It brought a welcome coolness, something I’d desperately missed during the sweltering day that had dragged on endlessly.
I can’t even describe how long that day felt, but as soon as the orange sun dipped behind the neighboring gray apartment buildings—towers that had stood there for over half a century, brooding in their decay—everything changed.
A cool evening arrived, melting into a dark night. At first, I wanted it all to end quickly, but that thought was misguided. I just didn’t know it yet.
Right now, everything felt shrouded in a thick September fog, the kind that falls to the earth for the first time and casts a mysterious veil over everything.
It was intoxicating, but not like regular alcohol—something entirely different. It’s hard to put into words… Or maybe I’d just had too much champagne, the tiny bubbles still rising in my glass.
A warmth wrapped around my hands. It was unfamiliar and unexpected, yet pleasant. With every passing second, I craved more of it, even though it felt beyond the realm of reality.
Sure, I could give in to this surge of passion, let it sweep me up like a fierce wind and carry me to the feathery clouds... But what happens after?
The fall...
Coming back to reality after that would be brutal. I needed to set a boundary, but oh, how I wanted to cross it. It was as if that line was begging me to forget it even existed…
But no.
I had to remember.
Those blue eyes pulled me in, but the familiar gray ones, etched into my soul for six years, wouldn’t let me go. I didn’t want to betray them, so why did I want to so badly? Where did these thoughts come from, urging me to listen to my heart?
It must be the damn alcohol. I’d had too much to drink, and now my mind was cluttered with nonsense. I needed to snap back to reality. Enough of this… But I didn’t want to stop. It felt so sweet, so pleasant, that it was hard to let go.
Max’s hands burned with heat, but I didn’t pull mine away. We exchanged glances, listening to the silence that surrounded us, wrapping us in a tender intimacy.
All that was missing were candles and the heady scent of vanilla. Even the silence, which had stretched on for over ten minutes, didn’t bother me.
It wasn’t awkward or the kind that makes you squirm with embarrassment. Instead, it was comforting because we understood each other without words.
Strange…
Suddenly, a loud, swift bird darted past the window. My dark-haired head whipped around to look.
My soul sighed with relief that it wasn’t the front door, where at any second people could barge in and ruin everything. I knew they would. I didn’t even need a fortune teller to confirm it. They’d be the ones to end this.
I turned back to the guy. He hadn’t even glanced at the window. His eyes were fixed on me…
Weird?
Even weirder was sitting in the middle of the room, legs crossed beneath me, holding hands.
“Your hands feel so nice,” Max’s voice finally broke the silence, catching me off guard. “I want to feel them more.”
“Enjoy it while you can, because when they show up…”
“Let them come,” he interrupted, flashing a warm smile. “I don’t want to think about them right now… I just don’t.”
“We can’t do this,” I said, the words forced out by my nagging conscience. “This isn’t right. Larisa is your…”
“Who?” he cut me off again.
“Your wife,” I whispered, closing my eyes.
A memory flashed through my mind—two years ago, at Max and Larisa’s wedding. She was such a stunning bride that I couldn’t help but feel jealous, imagining myself in that white dress with my Vlad by my side.
“But not a wall,” came his unexpected reply.
“What?” I couldn’t believe my ears. Did he even realize what he was saying?
This guy must’ve lost his mind, or…
Outside, the wind picked up, pushing more cool air into the room. It no longer caressed me gently with its touch; it slapped me with an icy sting. For a brief moment, I understood what was happening, but…
“Has anyone ever told you that you have beautiful lips?” Max said, as if he hadn’t heard me, squeezing my hands tighter. And I… liked it.
“This shouldn’t be happening…”
“It’ll stay between us…”
“That’s a lie…”
“A secret,” he whispered, suddenly pulling me into his embrace.
It was so unexpected, like a bolt of lightning on a clear winter day. In that moment, everything in my head spun out of control, and my champagne glass tumbled to the floor. The sweet liquid soaked into the green carpet, leaving a wet stain.
“What are you doing?” I asked, as he gazed into my eyes, which stared back at him in panic.
“Something I’ve wanted to do for a long time, Zoe…”
He began to lean in slowly, and I started to think this must be a dream. Everything unfolded so gradually, so romantically, but just as our lips were about to meet, a startling rustle came from the door. It could only mean one thing—Vlad and Larisa were here. They were talking about something, their voices loud, almost as if they were deliberately signaling their presence.
Max released me from his hold, and I quickly stood, stepping back a few paces. Our other halves couldn’t find out about this.