One hundred reasons to leave

Chapter 7 Roman

The girl had prepared breakfast for me. It was the first time someone had cooked for me not for money, but out of their own free will. And it turned out to be very pleasant.

“Let’s stop by a café and have breakfast,” Vitek says, sitting in the passenger seat.

“I’ve already eaten at home,” I reply without a second thought. My friend suddenly gives me a bewildered look.

“Did your guest feed you?” he asks with a crooked smile.

“Yeah,” I answer indifferently. “And drop the jokes. Better tell me what’s going on with her parents?” I turn into the parking lot near the main office.

“Oh, Morozov has confiscated all their property. All that’s left is an old four‑room apartment.”

“They’ll be fine,” I say. After hearing Lina’s story about how her parents raised her, I don’t feel the slightest bit of pity for them. If I had the chance, I’d take all their property away myself…

“They say her own mother is throwing all kinds of abuse at the girl…”

“What exactly are they saying? Be more specific!” I grip the steering wheel tightly in anger.

“Well, they say she’s a w***e — that she cheated on her husband the day after their wedding and ran off with her lover. And Morozov started this rumour. The media are reporting it in every city news outlet. And in the comments, people write that she’s a ‘w***e’ and ‘unworthy of living’.”

“Damn it!” I slam my hand against the steering wheel. “Call Morozov.”

“I already called… They’ve cleaned it up, but the internet remembers everything. There’s no way to erase it now. The only option for the girl is to move to another city with fake documents.”

“No way! Reinstate her at the university. And get her divorced from Morozov — urgently.”

“What are you planning?” he asks, studying my face.

“I’ll announce her as my fiancée, and not a single bastard will dare say a word,” I declare. The decision came spontaneously. I hadn’t really thought through all the details. But since she got into this situation because of me, it’s my responsibility to fix it.

“You didn’t want to get married…”

“I’m not planning to. While we’re dealing with Morozov, she’ll just play the role of my fiancée.” My friend gives me a strange, appraising look.

“What’s so special about her?”

“I don’t know… I just can’t help wanting to help her,” I say truthfully, thereby admitting my interest in the girl. Vitya nods in agreement.

After work, I stopped by a jewellery store and bought an engagement ring. White gold, an elegant design, and a large ruby in the centre. I don’t know why, but that red stone reminded me of her. Despite her apparent calmness, her true fiery and bold nature would occasionally surface.

I’d never chosen jewellery for a woman myself. Usually, I’d just assign the task to someone else. But this time, I somehow wanted to do it myself. I was afraid she wouldn’t like something someone else had picked out.