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The invitation is not for me/Приглашение не для меня
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I laughed. He came to talk! He's got nowhere else to go! I suppose he was hoping to convince me that I'd misunderstood, as if what had happened in the restaurant could be understood in any other way!

It's over between us! – I reminded him of the obvious.

"Yes, I can see that," Alex grinned.

"Good, if you can see it! Give me the keys and get out! " Andrew held out his hand again. " “I'll fire you.’

The threat had an effect: Alex threw the keys on the floor and rushed to the exit. All I had to do was blink.

“Fire me? “I specified.

“Yes, in any case. I won't tolerate my girlfriend's ex-boyfriend around. “

“A?”

“Why are you even dressed up? Although… Come here....”

At the last moment, I twisted out of his arms and bounced away. For some reason, I had the feeling that Andrew knew that Alex was coming: he appeared just in time to interfere with our reconciliation.

"What is it?" Andrew asked.

"Go away," I demanded, putting my hand out in front of me to stop him from coming near me.

"What?"

Andrew didn't seem to believe what he was hearing. He stepped even closer, and I took another step back. But there was nowhere else to retreat: there was a windowsill behind me, and I leaned against it.

"Go away at once!" I commanded.

I needed to think. I had to think about what had happened. Right now, the men around me were just getting in the way. I felt like I was being used and brainwashed, so I wouldn't understand.

"Are you sure?" he said.

"Yes!"

I jumped out of my seat and pushed him out the door. It was only after I had locked the door that I could finally cry, sinking to the floor in the hallway.

***

If you think the worst thing in your life has already happened, you have to wait a little longer to see how wrong you are. As I wiped tears from my cheeks, sitting on the floor in the hallway, thinking about how betrayal was the worst thing in my life. Just yesterday I had a family and a loved one, and today I'm alone in an empty apartment.

Realizing that I am terribly afraid of loneliness, a titanic effort decided not to forgive. I'd rather immerse myself in work – there's always something to do at school. I'll take another class, start leading a club, and forget Alex.

I started to pack his things so that I wouldn't change my mind. I brought garbage bags from the kitchen (I couldn't give him his brand-new suitcase!) and began to empty his closet. Somewhere I read that this is a necessary stage in the breakup, they say, then it will be easier. Well, it's all lies!

I was ready to get hysterical over every shirt. There were memories associated with all of them. If memory could be formatted like a hard drive, I would have done it.

I couldn't even get half of it done, and I fell asleep in the middle of the mess.

In the morning, I felt even worse than yesterday. My leg hurt even worse, my face was swollen, and my eyes were puffy. I couldn't go to work tomorrow in such a state; I'd better tell them I was sick and take a few days off. I didn't want to sit alone in the apartment, but it was better that way than to catch the interested looks of my colleagues and listen to their whispers. At the same time, I remembered my phone, which I hadn't even seen yesterday. It was left in the bag brought by Andrew, and I had completely forgotten about it. It took a decent amount of time to find the phone. The apartment was a mess.

After rewarding myself with another sandwich, I checked the contents of the bag. Nothing seemed to be missing, but it felt like it had been rummaged through. Probably Andrew was looking for my ID to get my address. But my phone surprised me: it had zero battery life. I realized the reason as soon as I turned it on: I had never had so many calls in one day. Everyone called: friends, colleagues, acquaintances. The messages in messengers were no less mysterious: "Wow!", "What happened?", "Well, you're crazy, friend!", and the "icing on the cake" was a message from the principal about the call to the pedagogical council, the reason for which should be my unworthy behavior.

Understanding absolutely nothing, I clicked on the first link sent to me and realized that I would be fired. Although I have a chance to go to the bottom of the Moscow River simply out of shame! Turns out there was a newly minted paparazzi in that ill-fated restaurant, so the entire performance I put on was filmed and posted on TikTok! The comments were horrendous and the highlights were plastered on memes!

Obviously, the video with the title "A woman caught a man cheating and made a scandal in a restaurant" was instantly recommended and spread all over the Internet!

Choking back another batch of tears, the only person I responded to was the assistant principal. After informing her that I had twisted my leg and couldn't walk, I disconnected the phone again. I just didn't have the energy to get mocked or be sympathetic to what had happened.

3 Chapter

Two days flew by. I didn't leave the apartment once during that time, partly because of my leg. The swelling was slow to go down, despite all the anti-inflammatory ointments. But I suddenly had a lot of time to finish watching a TV series I had started long ago. I somehow managed to forget that in the absence of a man and work, you don't have to cook every night, one eye looking into the pot, the other – in a notebook. There was no one to litter either. Having collected all of Alex's belongings, I brought them over to my neighbor's place. We had agreed that if Alex showed up, my neighbor would hand them over to him.

He couldn't resist knocking on my neighbor's door to inquire about my whereabouts.

In any case, someone rang the doorbell, but I decided to ignore it by putting on my headphones, pumping up some music, and not going to see who it could be.

By the middle of the week, I was able to move my legs fairly well, if I remembered to keep my bandage on, and after some deliberation, I decided to crawl out to the store. You can't hide from the world for the rest of your life. I need to buy at least the essentials: bread, milk, and chocolate bars!

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