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“Are you out of your mind?!”

Jürgen’s furious shout echoed through the room. Still half-asleep, I squeezed my eyes shut and pretended not to hear.

“You’ve lost your senses completely! In the middle of the night, without a word—damn it… damn woman!!”

He prowled the room like a madman. His footsteps were restless, his breathing ragged and harsh. Then—crash!—his fist slammed onto the desk. Everything on it toppled with a clatter.

Startled, I flinched and opened my eyes. There was no point in pretending any longer.

He glared down at me, his gray eyes bloodshot, burning with a terrifying intensity.

“Svyeta.”

Shoving back his damp hair, he strode toward me.

“How did you get hurt?”

“I slipped while riding my bicycle.”

His face was flushed as if from fever.

“What if something happens to you while you’re away and you don’t get in touch?”

“I didn’t realise I had to report every move I made to you. Is that what made you so angry?”

“How could I not be angry?”

I frowned, confused. He almost sounded as though he were… worried about me.

“Today I received a telegram from the camp. Seryozha died of Pneumonia.”

Turning away from him, I closed my eyes, drained.

“So tonight, just leave me be. Surely even you have some shred of sympathy.”

“So even a woman like you can grieve for family?”

His sneering face filled me with disgust. I turned my head, chest heaving as grief and rage welled and surged inside me.

“If family matters so much to you, you’ll indulge me again tonight.”

He pulled me up, tucked my dishevelled hair behind my ear, and wiped away my tears with his big hand. Then he showered me with kisses.

At first, I resisted. I truly didn’t want to sleep with him tonight. My body was already covered in wounds — I didn’t want to be hurt any more.

“Ahh…!”

After a long struggle, we both fell off the bed and landed on the floor. He landed on his back and I landed on his chest. Our eyes were locked.

With my breath ragged and panting, I gradually collapsed against him. I kissed him, swallowing the saliva that had passed into my mouth. With my eyes shut, I could feel his tender caresses.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned closer, pressing my lips fervently against his. Our clumsy, precarious kisses continued until I cupped his cheek and whispered:

“Are you satisfied now?”

Just as he had mocked me, now was my turn to mock him.

I slowly undressed him, leaving him still wearing his coat. Using only my left hand — my right arm was useless — I took off his coat, undid his tie, and unbuttoned his shirt. He never looked away, his gaze fixed and unyielding as he watched my every move, until I fumbled trying to open his trousers.

“Haa…”

“Svyeta.”

He guided my hand to his p*nis.

“Touch me.”

I grasped it hard; it was swollen to the point of bursting. Clear fluid welled from the reddened tip. I stroked it up and down with both hands, struggling to keep up. He groaned in a raw, animalistic way.

“On your knees, Svyeta.”

I knelt down as instructed. Bending down, I licked the tip and noticed his breathing become more laboured. Despite my awkwardness, I felt a surge of dominance. It was as if I were the one conquering him.

“Haa… Svyeta.”

It happened in an instant. One moment I was riding him; the next, I was pinned beneath him. This sudden reversal stunned and dazed me.

He drove himself between my thighs and thrust into me. Smooth and slick, he slid deep inside me, reaching far within.

He was winter itself: pale and merciless. Ashen skies, dark bare branches, and white frost.

A sense of dread stirred within me. Ultimately, he would take everything from me.

This was the first ill omen I had ever truly experienced, yet it did not sadden me.

“It might not be so bad after all.”

I confessed it as I looked at him, thrusting into me with sharp, relentless movements.

“After all… I don’t really have any other reason to live.”

His hips faltered, his sweat-drenched face twisting as he asked,

“Are you saying you want to die?”

“Who knows.”

I gave him a faint, inscrutable smile.

“Sometimes I just wish it would all end like this.”

With a low groan, he pulled me into his arms. I clung to him desperately, swept away in the searing heat of his embrace.

“I think I know now why you hate me.”

“…”

“Because I hate myself too.”

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The next morning, we drove to the hospital in Jurgen’s car. I smoked a cigarette as I spoke of the war.

“Dozens starved to death on my father’s rural estate alone. None of the soldiers who went to fight ever returned, of course. Death, death and more death… Everyone around me perished, without exception. At some point, I just became numb to it all.”

His car screeched to a halt at a red light.

“And then the war ended. When a gun was raised to Father’s head, the entire village erupted into celebration. A comrade colonel stood on the platform in the village square and shouted…”

I tapped the ash from my cigarette and shouted in a booming voice: “Comrades, the war is over—everything will be better now!!”

I clapped my hands in imitation of the colonel. Jürgen, who was driving, let out a quiet laugh. I laughed too, shaking with mirth until I nearly lost my breath.

Soon, we reached the hospital. Jürgen parked the car and got out. He opened the passenger door for me and offered me his hand like a gentleman.

Taking his hand, I got out and waited to be seen with him.

Inside the examination room, he immediately bribed the doctor. Although the principle was free healthcare, bribes had become common practice.

After slipping the thick ruble notes into his pocket, the doctor told me to roll up my jumper. Jürgen did it for me, lifting the fabric himself.

The doctor examined my swollen left arm and said that we should take an X-ray.

After I had returned to the office with the X-ray, he informed me that the bone was fractured and proceeded to put a cast on my arm.

“Please do a blood test as well.”

“Comrade, the young lady came in because of a traffic accident, did she not? In such cases, a blood test isn’t necessary.”

“I want to know if she’s pregnant.”

At Jurgen’s flat, indifferent demand, I frowned and turned sharply toward him.

“Your arm, miss, if you please?”

Despite the doctor’s request, I remained frozen to the spot, so Jürgen seized my left arm and placed it on the desk. While he rolled up my jumper sleeve, the doctor swabbed the inside of my arm with alcohol and took a blood sample.

He told us that the results would be ready soon, then instructed us to wait outside.

In the waiting area, we sat listening to a radio programme about the rapid advancement of science and technology. It seemed that science and technology had advanced enough to detect pregnancy.

Soon, the doctor called us back to deliver the result.

I wasn’t pregnant.

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Jurgen took me to an upscale restaurant.

After leaving our coats with the waiter, he led me to a table near the piano. He ordered lunch. Having never been to such a place, I could only sit in silence, watching him give the order.

“Today you’ve come with a beautiful lady.”

The waiter was clearly familiar with Jürgen and greeted him warmly. He was clearly a regular at this kind of establishment.

The restaurant owner was surprised to see that Jürgen had brought a woman with him, and presented me with a bouquet. The purple flowers were a variety I didn’t recognise, with a sweet fragrance reminiscent of a Monet landscape.

Soon, the aperitif and appetiser arrived: dark bread topped with butter and caviar.

As the pianist played, I cautiously tasted the food. It was the first fine meal I had eaten in a long time.

When the performance ended, everyone in the restaurant applauded. With my arm in a cast, I simply continued eating.

“Do you like the piano?”

To break the heavy silence, I asked a meaningless question. But his answer was unexpected.

“Not particularly. But my mother loved the piano. She was skilled enough to play on stage a few times.”

“Then—you can play too, Jurgen?”

“I learned. From my mother.”

“Are you any good?”

“I am.”

Next came borscht, followed by lamb steak with raspberry sauce. Seeing that I was injured, my host cut the meat for me. It was a surprisingly thoughtful gesture.

“I was never interested in music. I only learned because it pleased her.”

“I didn’t expect that side of you.”

“As the second son, I always felt overlooked. In front of my mother, I often played the spoiled child, hoping to be favored a little more.”

“My goodness.”

“I thought her smile was beautiful. That’s why I kept playing.”

“Even now?”

“Even now.”

It was unexpected. I had assumed that, since his older brother was his only source of support, he must have been distant from his mother. But perhaps their relationship hadn’t been as cold as I thought.