The Russian's Hidden Gem

"It's Frolova, now. Not Egorov," the boy said sternly and shut the heavy door behind him just to emphasize his point.

Tired, bored and immensely exhausted, I drank some more of the beer that tasted a lot like diluted coffee. The taste sort of grows on you.

I looked at the bar running slow today and the unopened champagne bottle in its protective case behind the counter.

It was meant to be a celebration today but Vanya didn't even show up.

I don't know why I try. I should have expected as much but I had fooled myself by thinking just this once she would at least take my invitation.

The only one who had showed up was my Intel on the latest IKEA furniture on sale. Our neighbor Lyon recently bought a cottage and for the past week has been obsessed with refurbishing it with ideal furniture.

He wasn't much help at the best of times. And when he wasn't talking in a monotone, he was awkwardly playing with the cocktail he'd ordered.

"Spasiba, Lyon," Thanks, I told him in our Mother Tongue. He stopped short and turned from his drink.

"Why don't you just leave her?" he asked once again. "How long again? Two years?"

It doesn't take a genius to show how pushy and unreasonable my girlfriend gets and how miserable I tend to seem.

But this time instead of shrugging it off or drinking more beer to avoid talking, I found myself actually answering.

"Because I love her," I said.

At least, I did at one point.

His eyes widened from surprise, having gotten used to being ignored on that. But he quickly regained his composure before he patted me on the shoulder.

I got home to an empty house.

The lights were off and the rooms were cold. I was too tired to do anything else so I just went to bed.

Somewhere in the middle of the night, I heard an unsettling noise. I quickly shot out of bed ready with a baseball bat, the closest weapon I keep in the bedroom.

I was planning on turning the handle quietly then surprising the intruder when I heard someone swear.

I relaxed my shoulders and opened the door abruptly because the anger from earlier resurfaced.

"Merde!"

"Where were you?" i asked ignoring her.

As expected, she'd whipped around to face me in a position ready to fight.

When she saw that it was only me, she stood up and then noting my serious tone she matched it with one of her own.

"I got held up at the park for my promotion," she said fixing the pencil skirt that hugged her tall figure.

Any other day before this year, i would have gladly brushed this aside to rip that off of her.

But now, all I'm noticing is the unusually wrinkled state it was in and how messy her hair looked.

It looked like someone had already beat me to taking that suddenly revolting thing off.

"I'm leaving..."

"What?" My eyes returned to her steely grey ones. I remember us once loving the fact that we both have grey eyes.

"I said I'm leaving. I found someone else."

"You mean you cheated on me and realised you like him better," I corrected her as I crossed my arms across my chest, the baseball bat still in hand.

"I'll pack my things when I get back," she continued.

She wasn't even going to deny it. Also as expected, she's not one to beg or deny.

But it hurt inside even if it wasn't showing on my face.

"Just like that... a year of being together and you're just throwing it all down the drain for the plumber?!" I shouted.

My anger rose again as I thought of the pigeon-faced doofus who works at her company.

He openly made advances at her and she let him whenever I visited her workplace.

"He's not a plumber, he's on the field team for the building's water supply and the city's- ... you know what, I'm not explaining this to you. I'm leaving you because I can't deal with how you don't appreciate me, your temper and-"

"Oh sure, how long did it take to think of that pathetic speech?" I scoffed. She frowned.

There are about ten times more things I can list off about her even though I didn't leave her, but I won't. And she knows that.

I wouldn't sting someone with words the way she does. And I won't stoop so low as to beg her to stay.

"You want to leave?... Okay, so why don't you, huh? Go!" I said leisurely swinging my bat. Then I used all my force to smash the glass table she was leaning on. "So leave!! What're you still doing here?"

She jumped and gasped.

She's leaving because of my temper? I felt like laughing at that. Well, I'll show her just how much my temper can rise. I am my father's son after all.

I hit the matching glass chair and the shiny bookshelf just because they were the closest to her.

Each time she backed off out of the way but stumbled a lot cause she was still wearing one of the heels she'd begun to remove.

"Alexei!"

"Now you want to stay? I said... go," I told her.

At this point, I wasn't sure whether I wanted her to lie and say it was all a big joke or whether I wanted her and her new boyfriend to get crushed by some giant bolder.

She placed a sllm hand on the front door handle looking torn.

If she didn't want this then she shouldn't have cheated in the first place.

"I said GOOO!!"

Just as the bat hit the wall next to her, she screamed and fled.

I was close to the window so I could see her jump into the familiar Prada that had been waiting for her.

But as the red car sped off, I couldn't bear the tight feeling in my chest that spread quickly.

I brushed off a glass shard from the couch and slumped down on it with a heavy sigh.

All my exhaustion is catching up to me.

"She didn't even bother to apologize," I smiled bitterly.

I looked around at the messy apartment. This place can burn for all I care, too many memories.

I remembered what I had said to Lyon earlier.

It wasn't love I felt for her anymore. Maybe the first months we were together it was.

But I guess I just pitied her enough to not want to leave her.

Even though I felt heartbroken and my trust was broken, I also felt an unbelievable amount of relief.

As if a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders the moment she stepped out of that door.

Like now I can finally breath.

I picked up the bat and went back to my room.

As soon as the sun rises, it's time to move on.