Next few days brought to Perun his wildest dreams come true. He earned so much money that he had enough not only to buy his desired house near the reservoir, but also to replace his old, obsolete automobile with a much better one. His new car was not, of course, as the ones he was selling in his dealership, but he was still glad that the everyday trip from Bedekovcina to Zagreb would pass much more comfortably. He went to the real estate agency and arranged a tour. He was most satisfied with what he saw; the house was just like he had imagined. Small, on only one floor, with two bedrooms, one living room and one bathroom, it was on the periphery of Bedekovcina, on the road that led to the lakes, separated from the surrounding houses and appeared quite lonely. It didn’t bother him, on the contrary, it fitted into his imagined picture. It was almost new and renewal was not necessary. But what he liked the most was the facade that was most unusual; it looked like the house was built from old wood eaten by the tooth of the time although it was a solid building of bricks and mortar. Before he returned to Zagreb, he photographed the house several times; and when he looked at the pictures, he felt his breath taking away from delight. He had never seen such a beautiful place before. The lakes were a thirteen minutes walk away.
Happy that he found such a favourable offer at the right time, Perun bought the house. Then he sat on his computer and wrote an email message to Ariana, in which he included all the photos he made that day along with the document of purchase. The beauty of the house will cause her approval, he thought, and she will be glad he bought it.
He sent the mail, sat on a chair in his room and waited.
He didn’t have to wait long. In less than thirty minutes on his computer arrived a notification that he had a message from Ariana. He opened it impatiently and he started reading it.
“I can’t imagine that this pond full of algae has drawn your attention so much,” she wrote, “it looks like in it , instead of carps, can live only frogs. You stupid, the house must be built in the nineteenth century, the wood has rotted that much. It’s so spooky, looks haunted by ghosts. I wouldn’t be surprised if you mysteriously disappear shortly after you move in. And now something serious. If you think I will leave Zagreb and everything I have in this city to join you in your infantile fantasies for isolation, you are wrong. Do you know why I needed almost thirty minutes to answer your message? Because that long has lasted my conversation with the Zagrebian business magnate Luka. I have his number for months. He is not like you, and besides you are not up to his knees in any way, he has a lot more feelings for me. This weekend we are going on skiing in Italy. If you wonder why, blame yourself. And do not wait for me to come back!
Perun felt his whole world falling apart. He read the message again and again, trying to find a piece of hope in it’s words. Her "blame yourself" scared him to death. No, he wouldn’t think about it. He knew Ariana well enough to know she wrote the letter in anger; it would not be the first time she broke up with him, regretted and made up with him again. Without any success, he closed the message and deleted it. He couldn’t believe it was over, it couldn’t be. But, if it was true that the owner of the chain of betting shops was taking her on a trip to Italy, the thing this time was serious.
He felt sick; until the next day he lived like in a nightmare. He did what he usually did without thinking about her, but all the time, with a part of his existence, was aware about a pain in his soul that pressed him. He had a feeling that something terrible was happening, something worst. On Friday evening, he sat again on the computer and wrote another message to Ariana, in which he was asking her to deny everything. The answer arrived sooner than he expected. On the message was attached a photo that he opened urgently. His heart tore apart from what he saw; Ariana, dressed only in her underwear was sitting on a bed in a luxury hotel room, and in the mirror was visible a reflection of Luka taking the photo. There was no doubt she had cheated on him.
He wanted to tear her apart; he thought to go to the same moment in Italy, to find her and make her regret; but everything he managed to do was to become aware of his own misery and powerlessness. He wondered how he would survive this blow the life inflicted on him, how he would continue to live.
He didn’t want to think about it any longer. Next day he planned to tidy up his new little house and to move there.
With a heavy sigh, Perun deleted the second message and started packing his suitcase for Bedekovcina.