When Dasha, trying to pass a group of slowly walking girls who were animatedly discussing their shopping, accidentally bumped into a man, she didn’t recognize him immediately. She apologized in passing, involuntarily gasped, and tried to walk around his broad figure.
“Dasha?”
At the sound of that voice, she flinched. But not like usual — she didn’t instinctively duck her head into her shoulders, expecting trouble. On the contrary, something inside her stirred, as if remembering who she used to be — that very girl who had heard this voice almost every day. It was strange that his voice remained the same, since Arseniy now hardly resembled that skinny, awkward young man she once knew.
“Dasha, is that you?” he asked again, brusquely taking her hands and looking closely at her face.
“It’s me,” she simply replied.
“You haven’t changed at all.”
“But you — you’re completely different now,” Dasha couldn’t help but remark.
“Well, yeah, life has added a couple of kilos,” he smirked. “I’m in the restaurant business now, you know.”
Strangely, his smile was still the same.
“I’ve heard something very different,” Dasha said, unable to hold back a sarcastic tone.
Everyone around was sure Arseniy was involved in crime — Lena had said so more than once.
“People say things that aren’t always worth taking seriously. For example, they say cows don’t fly,” he joked. “How about some coffee?”
Dasha closed her eyes, as she often did — to imagine for a moment a different life where she could say yes to such an offer, sit at a table, remember school days, laugh at old stories. The mental image brought a familiar pang of regret. Opening her eyes, she said:
“Sorry, I can’t — I’m in a big hurry.”
She freed her hands and tried to walk past, but forgot one important detail: Arseniy never gave up easily.
“Wait! At least give me your phone number, so I can contact you. I’ve been looking for you on social media…”
“I’m not on there,” she interrupted. “And I really have to go.”
She quickened her pace, but Arseniy caught up, grabbed her hand, pulling so her sleeve rode up, exposing her wrist. His voice suddenly became harsh:
“What’s this?”
At just his tone, Dasha tensed involuntarily and again pulled her head into her shoulders, like she used to when afraid of trouble.
She and Arseniy met in fifth grade. He came to their school after his parents divorced and his mother moved in with his grandmother. He told her this story on the very first day when, after the ceremonial assembly, they went to the park to buy cotton candy. She had planned to go with her friend Lera, but Lera suddenly declared that her best friend was now Katya. Dasha cried, and Arseniy came over and took her hand. They went to the assembly together, sat side by side, and spent the whole year practically inseparable. Of course, they were teased as “bride and groom,” but they didn’t care. It was real friendship — much deeper than with the fickle Lera, who changed best friends every week. Dasha loved inventing stories and starting adventures, and Arseniy was always there — supporting her in everything.
Then his mother remarried, and the family moved to the other side of the city. Arseniy asked to stay with his grandmother, but no one listened to the twelve-year-old boy. They didn’t see each other for three years. They could have called, written, met, but somehow it didn’t happen. Dasha missed him, of course, but eventually made new friends and life went on. In eighth grade, she met Lena, with whom she swore loyalty until the end. But just before the trip to summer camp, Lena got sick — peritonitis — and Dasha went alone.
She didn’t recognize Arseniy. He had changed a lot: grown taller, acne covered his face. But he recognized her immediately, ran up happily, called out to her, even wanted to hug, but got shy at the last moment and stepped back.
At first, there was awkwardness between them, they talked like strangers. But in the evening by the campfire, he somehow ended up nearby, and Dasha felt that same atmosphere again — as if they were back in fifth grade, sitting at the same desk, then going home, doing homework at the table, their sleeves barely touching. Now they also sat close; she felt the warmth of his body, though their hands didn’t touch.
No one at camp teased them; everyone mingled freely, met, and made friends. She had fun with Arseniy, even though she didn’t like him as a boy — too skinny, with pimples, messy hair. But he never tried to be more than a friend. Only once, when seeing her off after the campfire, he cautiously placed his hand on her waist, but Dasha gently pulled away, making it clear she preferred no extra gestures. On parting, he unexpectedly hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. Dasha touched that spot with her fingers all the way home and smiled foolishly. No, she didn’t like him. But she had to tell Lena.
She didn’t expect Arseniy to return to their school. Later she learned he convinced his grandmother to take him in; after long family disputes, he succeeded. Classmates remembered him, some were even glad. Only Lena didn’t like him and demanded a choice: either her or him.
Dasha chose her friend. After all, she really didn’t like him. Besides, he had no money. She and Lena dreamed of a life like in TV series. They didn’t consider the boys in class as potential suitors, and being friends with them was inconvenient — everyone would immediately think they were a couple. How else to meet your prince?
They constantly discussed princes, choosing among actors, guessing who they’d want to marry. Sometimes they went to a pizzeria where boys from the gymnasium hung out and flirted with them. Sometimes someone invited them somewhere, but nothing serious came of it. Sometimes Dasha caught a sad look from Arseniy but tried not to notice.
Everything changed in tenth grade. After vacation, Arseniy returned tanned, with grown curls and a guitar. All the girls went crazy. Lena too.
They became a trio. Lena asked if Dasha minded if she started dating Arseniy. She said no. Arseniy himself was against it. Dasha thought Lena would hate him, but Lena was so in love she was ready to forgive everything. Though later she complained he wasn’t interested in her, but the next day again invited him out.
It was Lena who suggested Dasha talk to him. Before this mission, Dasha was so nervous she blushed when she finally gathered courage to approach. Arseniy misunderstood — he held a red rose. It was raining; he stood long under it, wet, with drops on his hair. Dasha just pitied him. He decided she came because she loved him too. That’s how it all started.
Then she fell in love. It became the hardest time in her life. She couldn’t confess to Lena that she was dating Arseniy. They met secretly, which made the relationship more intense. Arseniy thought there was no one to hide from, but Dasha was afraid. She lied to Lena that she was going to her grandmother’s, but really they took a tram to a neighboring district where no one knew them. There they wandered, holding hands, talking about everything. Once, hiding from rain in a doorway, they were kissing when a man approached — about twenty-five, with a scar on his cheek, yellow teeth, wearing a wrinkled tracksuit. Dasha immediately disliked him.
“Who’s that?” she asked.
“Just my stepfather’s acquaintance,” Arseniy replied shortly.
Because of this man, everything came out. Walking through a shopping center with Lena, they bumped into that guy, who recognized Dasha and started talking about her relationship with Arseniy. They had to admit everything.
Dasha thought Lena would never forgive her. But her friend just said:
“You need to break up with him. He’s clearly involved in crime. And his stepfather too — Dad told me.”
She said nothing more. Dasha agonized for two days and finally told Arseniy it was over.
“Are you serious?”
“Serious.”
“Why?”
“Because your stepfather is a gangster!”
“Where did you get that?”
“Lena said.”
“And you believed her?”
“I did.”
“Then you’re stupid.”
That’s how their short romance ended. At school, they pretended to be strangers, then Arseniy transferred out and didn’t study with them till the end. Lena spread news about him for a long time but stopped mentioning him after marriage. But now Dasha thought with interest about how she’d tell her friend about this meeting.
“That’s my dog Kerry, she plays like this — always grabs hands,” Dasha quickly said, though she had no dog. She smiled as naturally as possible. “Nice to see you, but I really have to go.”
Having taken a few steps, she heard her name and turned around.
“Here,” Arseniy handed her a business card. “If you need anything — call anytime. I’ll do anything for you…”
Dasha threw the card in the trash, tearing it into small pieces first. But she memorized the number — just in case.
That day went by without incident — Viktor grumbled a bit about her delay in the mall but was in a good mood and didn’t make a scene. But lately, such outbursts were becoming more frequent. Somewhere inside, a conviction was growing — she needed to leave Viktor. Only she didn’t yet know how.
He courted her beautifully and charmingly — exactly how she and Lena dreamed of a real prince. Attractive, rich, successful — his choice of Dasha seemed like a miracle. At first, she felt like a fairy-tale heroine. But apparently, the Grim Brothers wrote this story: after the wedding, Viktor changed sharply. He became controlling, harsh, demanding. He watched her every step, told her what to wear, where to go, how to behave in public. At the slightest mistake, scandals began. Not physical violence — he never hit her, but he could raise a hand or squeeze her wrist painfully. Dasha decided for herself: if he hits, she will leave. Once, when she half-jokingly spoke about this, Viktor quietly replied:
“I won’t let you leave me. Got it?”
At that moment, she first heard cold certainty and threat in his voice. But no one but her knew the truth. Everyone thought their marriage was perfect.
“How lucky you are, Dasha,” Lena sighed. “You got such a husband! And he got Seryozha a job, or else I don’t know how we’d survive.”
Dasha didn’t dare tell even her best friend everything. She was ashamed and scared — what if Viktor found out?
Her meeting with Arseniy happened years later. Lena insisted they meet as old school friends. She endlessly flirted with Arseniy, who now looked much better than in youth. And Dasha barely looked up from her cup — every time their eyes met, embarrassment flared inside. Those looks… just like when he rewarded her during their secret meetings. Could he still feel something for her? Or was it just her imagination?
Lena took his phone number and started calling, joking that one of them should become his mistress. Dasha was silent. She didn’t plan to call — she knew if Viktor found out, it would be no laughing matter.
Once, at Lena’s place, Dasha mentioned that Viktor had a mole removed from his back and recovered slowly afterward.
The next day, coming home, Dasha immediately knew something happened. Viktor’s voice was icy:
“Since when do you discuss my business with employees’ wives?”
“I just said you had a mole removed too…”
The next thing she felt was a blow. Her head jerked, her cheek ached. Fear boiled inside — it had begun.
Her survival instinct told her: don’t argue, don’t show fear, don’t leave now. She waited until morning, stayed home a bit longer hoping Viktor would return, then packed a bag with essentials and went to Lena.
She left her phone at home — sure Viktor was watching it. She called a taxi, gave her friend’s address, hoping she was home. After Viktor got Lena’s husband a job, Lena could quit her hated job and focus on family. Dasha had no children. Doctors said there were no problems, but Viktor constantly accused her of infertility.
Lena was surprised by her friend’s arrival with luggage:
“What happened?”
Dasha silently took off her dark glasses and showed bruises on her wrists.
“Oh God… Who would have thought…”
Lena seemed to want to sympathize, but when Dasha asked to stay at least a couple of days, her friend got nervous:
“You better go home. Make up. Sergey and I don’t want to lose a good job. He just started earning well. Well, he hit you once — it happens. My dad often hit my mom, and they live in harmony. You go back home…”
Dasha remembered their childhood oath in the bathroom, when they pricked their fingers with a needle and promised to always be together. Silly, of course, but then she was the first to betray Lena by starting a relationship with Arseniy. But she still believed Lena would always be on her side.
“Can I call?” Dasha asked.
“Where’s your phone?”
“Forgot it at home.”
Lena handed her her phone, trying not to look into her eyes.
“Lena?” came Arseniy’s voice.
“It’s not Lena. It’s me, Dasha. I need help,” she said.
After a short conversation, they arranged a meeting. Before leaving, Dasha asked:
“Don’t tell him it was me who called, okay?”
“I won’t,” Lena promised. “I knew something would start between you again.”
There was no strength to convince her otherwise. Dasha kissed her friend on the cheek and left.
Arseniy arranged to meet near Lena’s house. He came in a black car with a driver and bodyguard. He put her in the car, asked the security to leave, asked a few questions, and said:
“I’ll arrange everything. I’ll take you to a safe place now. Don’t tell anyone the address, only your parents — he probably already called them.”
Dasha expected an apartment or country house, but the “safe place” was a crisis center for women. At first, she refused to go — she thought it would be full of people who had been through real hell. But Arseniy gently insisted:
“Trust me, they will help you here. If you don’t like it, tell me, I’ll take you back.”
He was right. The first days were tough, but then in conversation with a psychologist, Dasha broke the dam she had held for many years. She cried for an hour without stopping. After that, she firmly decided — she would never go back. She asked Arseniy to find a lawyer.
The divorce was long and difficult. Viktor apologized, threatened, cried again. She never stayed alone with him; she came to all meetings with a protector. Arseniy always waited nearby. Viktor pretended they were alone. There was no prenuptial agreement, but there was a lot of jointly acquired property, which Dasha was ready to give up, but Viktor made the process difficult.
It ended suddenly — at one meeting, instead of Viktor, his lawyer came with papers. Dasha signed the documents — and that was it. A month later, she learned their house burned down. No one was hurt, but nothing was left of the house.
“Was it you?” she asked Arseniy.
“No. He has enough enemies without me.”
Dasha decided to live with her parents in a farmhouse, and Arseniy offered to take her there. Over those months, she had grown so used to his help she couldn’t imagine life without him. She wanted to figure out what she felt for him — gratitude, love, or something new.
He helped her pack, close windows in the apartment, left the keys in the mailbox — the owner was his acquaintance.
Left alone, Dasha decided — now or never. She approached Arseniy, stood close, looked into his eyes. She waited for him to make the first move, but he stood still. Then she took his hand. He shuddered and sharply pulled his palm away.
“Don’t.”
He said it as if he was suffering.
“Don’t be angry. I’ve become a bad person. Almost like him. And you need a good one. And you will definitely find him.”
Her heart clenched. Dasha ran her hand over his cheek:
“You’re good.”
Arseniy closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“Let’s go. We need to beat the traffic.”
She nodded and lowered her hand. She didn’t want to leave. Didn’t want to leave this room. But instinctively understood — he was right. She wasn’t meant to be a gangster’s wife. Although…
What would happen next, Dasha didn’t know yet. She decided to think on the way. Maybe she could convince him to stay. Or to live together in that very farmhouse. Maybe get some goats. Why not? She had always managed to persuade him into any adventure before — maybe this time too…