BOOKS / Let it rain, when I cry

Let it rain, when I cry

/ 2012

Label: Motýľ

Number of pages: 272

Binding: paperback

Size: 130x210 mm

Weight: 270

Language: slovakian

ISBN: 9788089482580

Release year: 2012


  • "Viktória sa napriek obrovským výčitkám snaží na udalosť zabudnúť a udržať to v tajnosti, keďže vie, že kamarátku by to zničilo ..." read more


The long term friendship of two young women is breaking apart, when Victoria unexpectedly spends the night with the boyfriend of Tamara. It happened shortly after he proposed to Tamara. Both suddenly realised, that despite their everlasting love to Sophia, they both failed. Despite the fact, that new man appears in Victoria's life, and her sin has faded away with her new love, the truth is revealed, and it has unexpected consequences.

Let it rain when I cry is the novel about the consequences of thoughtlessness behaviour, and about the mistake which can be never forsaken.

The book was placed among the 10 best selling books in The Book of the Year public opinion poll.



It seems my parents were divorced forever.
I really don’t recall our family as one of those happy photos consisting of a mother, a father and children. And my younger brother Marcel remembers only vaguely.
Father dedicated his life to the business. In my teenage years he extended his empire and founded another company. He moved far away from us a few years before I started menstruating and Marcel was raging on hormones. Although we were materially secured, emotionally we were empty.
My mother's boyfriend wasn’t as horrible as the next one and the next one. I was looking to escape from reality full of tears and her dissatisfaction everywhere I could. I started to attend judo classes and joined a painting club, but I did not enjoy it. Similarly, I tried my hands at table tennis, singing lessons and even piano.
And that’s when I met her.
She was sitting on a low chair and the keys under her fingers emitted incredibly beautiful sounds. She moved slightly in rhythm with the melody she was creating. And I, as someone who doesn’t have anything to do with music, understood that it means a lot to her.
I watched her with my mouth open in the practice room of our art school and felt terribly unnecessary, clumsy and useless. She played a slow, sad tune, but gradually accelerated the pace and toward the end it seemed to me full of anger, even revolutionary. She hit the keys as if they hurt her. Music went through her entire body and in one moment it suddenly stopped.
She covered her face in her hands and wiped the tears that I had not noticed yet, as she sat with her back to me. After a short while she got up, ran out of the classroom without the slightest glance at me. I don’t know why, I ran after her.
She sat on the bench behind the school building in a fit of a heartbreaking sob. I walked over to her, brought her handkerchief and waited for what would happen next.
She looked at me with her big blue eyes and thanked me. She motion to me with her hand that I could sit down next to her. I was terribly curious why she cried, but I didn’t want to push her. After a moment of silence, she entrusted to me the source of her grief all on her own. Her cat had died.
I had always hated cats, but right away I became fond of this one, even though it was already dead. Actually, mainly because it was dead. Had it not been for the animal's death, maybe I would never have met Tamara. Maybe she wouldn’t be sitting in the classroom at the piano trying to express her emotions through music. And I wouldn’t have been so enthralled and curious.
Tamara was beautiful. From outside and inside. Born just a week earlier than me.
She had become an integral part of my then-boring and sad life and returned it its color.
We spent every free moment together, dreamed of a beautiful future and spun plans of a joint vacation with our spouses and children at the sandy beaches of Latin American islands.
She became my soul mate, who had allayed my loneliness and filled the place which my father gave up. With her by my side, I didn’t miss anything.


When we were seventeen and enjoying ourselves at one of our school’s parties, a spark flew between her and the most famous footballer in the city, on whom every girl had a crush. Beautiful, but a little shy, just the way she was.
They were casting innocent glances on one another, too shy to make the first step and start communicating. So I decided to help them.
"Tamara, I have to bounce. Will you wait for me here?” I asked her when they started playing one of our favorite songs.
I was hoping that she’ll want to stay on the floor and enjoy the music in a circle of classmates with whom we were dancing.
"I'm coming with you," she whispered and from her look I understood that the company in which I was planning to leave her wasn’t to her liking.
However, I could not allow this. I, of course, wanted to help her meet with the footballer.
"Oh, my dear, don’t be silly. I'll be right back. I need to talk to Jana. You know that my brother is completely into her. I need to find out if she likes him as well. Wait for me here."
She gave me a long inquisitive gaze, but nodded.
"Don’t be away long. The idiot next to me is getting uncomfortably close," she whispered.
I smiled and marched towards the hallway of the bar in which the party was held. I noticed the look of the playboy, who was unable of any action directed on Tamara.
He stood in the huddle of his friends and somehow wasn’t engaged in any conversation. I moved closer and tapped his shoulder: "Do you have a minute?"
He shot a blank look as if wondering where he knows me from. But he came closer to me and waited for whatever will happen next.
"We do not know each other, but I'm sure you noticed a girl with blond hair in a white dress. You have exchanged a couple of interesting glances."
He said nothing, just smiled.
I continued, "I am her friend. I'm here because she would love you to meet you. She asked me to see you. She's a little shy. Could you come to the bar in the back in five minutes? She will be there waiting for you. Hmmm?"
He smiled again and I realized that he’s a really nice piece. In my mind, I imagined Tamara and him walking hand in hand, she in a beautiful wedding dress and he in a suit. A beautiful idea, if you are seventeen.
"Okay. I’ll be there in about five minutes. Thanks. You’re a messenger of good news."
That was enough for me. I turned around and gleefully dashed onto the floor.
Tamara was enjoying the song and when she saw me, she smiled and whispered, "Where were you, you liar? Jana is dancing just a few steps away."
I had to wind my way out of this one.
"Of course she is. I couldn’t find her. But you won’t believe what happened. Come here," I pulled her by her hand and sat down at the nearest table.
"What is it?"
I took in a breath. I hate lying, especially to her, but this time I had to.
"I met the footballer. The one who’s been ogling you. He would like to invite you for something. He asked me to tell you that he’ll be waiting in about five minutes at the bar in the back."
"What? Really?" She cried, and her face lit up.
"Yes , really. So get ready, take a deep breath, because in a moment you can talk to him and see him up close."
Tamara was thrilled, clasping hands as in a prayer and repeating, "Thank you, oh, thank you."
Then she stopped and started to panic.
"How do I look? Oh, God, I must go to the ladies’ room. I want to see myself in the mirror."
She quickly got up, grabbed my hand and dragged me to the bathroom.
I honestly enjoyed her happiness. She was even more beautiful when she smiled.
"What should I say? Should I sit on a bar stool or stand? Oh, please tell me how I look."
It was so cute.
I hugged her and said, "Love, you look stunning. And it doesn’t matter whether you sit or stand. And what should you say? Be yourself, that will work. You're amazing and he will immediately understand this. Now go."
"Thank you. You’re a treasure. A messenger of good news."
When she said this, it was clear to me that they will understand each other perfectly. He also called me so.
She strongly squeezed my hand, applied a transparent lip gloss and walked away.
I watched as my friend went on his first official date. I wished her all the happiness of the world, because she was an angel.
The footballer was already waiting for her. He watched how she was approaching him and smiled. From a sufficient distance I saw how he presented his hand and said something, she flinched slightly and took a step back. I assumed my little lie had just been discovered.
Tamara began to look around, and when she saw me in the distance, she gave me a cheeky look, then she said something and both of them laughed. I waved to them with a wide smile and lost myself on the dance floor.
That night I went home with my brother and Jana, who drank a little more. Tamara spent the rest of the evening back at the bar and had a great time. When I was saying my goodbye to her before leaving, I saw that she was absolutely happy.
"I'll call you tomorrow. Thank you," she kissed me on the cheek.
The footballer corrected her:
"Thank you, our fairy godmother."
And from then on, Tamara and Juraj were together.


Today we are both seniors at university. We still spend a lot of time together, although now everything is different.
With age comes responsibility. Preparing for exams takes a lot of time. Same goes for Juraj, love of Tamara’s life, and my, so far unsuccessful, relationships. Somehow it doesn’t bother me. Let that which is meant to happen come to pass.
I'm trying to concentrate on studying and ignore everything negative that happens around me.
Mom is permanently unhappy. And why shouldn’t she be, when then men she always comes across aren’t worth a penny. My brother is still single. He studies at college and works during weekends.
My father is so concentrated on his work and substituting one girlfriend for another that he barely has enough time to call once a month to ask if everything is okay and whether we need any money. And right now I need it.
This Friday the university is throwing its annual ball and I would like to dress in something new and fresh. And so "my caring daddy" wired some money into my bank account, and Tamara and I went shopping.
When she rang the bell at the door, mom was experiencing a bout of hysterics. Finally she broke up with a guy who had a great car, but that was about it. She cried and screamed that she never wants to see a man again. All over again.
Tamara walked into the house in the moment when my mom slammed the door and shut herself in the bathroom. She said nothing, just hugged me. She was accustomed to such scenes, because she witnessed many of my mother’s breakups in recent years. She knew that at the inside it bothered me.
It bothered me to see my mom cry. Although she wasn’t perfect, she was still my mom.
"She'll be fine, you'll see. Just needs a little time," Tamara smiled, and I was immediately better.
"Perhaps you're right," I nodded and in a couple of minutes we were already in the shopping center boutiques choosing our dresses for the ball.
Tamara wanted something special. She had an inner feeling that she’ll finally get the engagement ring from Juraj. He said that he has a surprise in store for her.
She wanted to look romantic. Finally, she decided to buy a long mauve dress made ​​of satin with thin straps. I brought home a beige dress that, though not very bold, was nevertheless interesting with a tie around the neck.
On the day of the ball we were both eager. Tamara couldn’t talk about anything other than the way Juraj could ask her to marry him.
We invented different methods he could ask her as we applied nail polish in my room. Mom was watching some romantic crap in the living room, where everything eventually ends well and the main characters live happily together until death. She took a couple of days off work to cure her aching heart. Bottle of wine was supposed to help her in that regard.
But, it seemed to me she was sipping too often. She managed her previous breakup with the aid of alcohol as well and it took her a few weeks before there was day without a single drop.
"Tamara, do you think it’s possible to spend a lifetime with just one partner?” I asked as I applied a transparent nail polish.
"That’s my plan. Juraj is great. We have been together for years and I can’t actually remember a period of my life when I was without him. For all that time I never once doubted that he is the right one. I still look forward to when we meet and when we are talking about our future together, I wish it to be tomorrow. After all these years, there was no other for me and I’m sure that there wasn’t anyone else for him either. We just trust each other and so it should be. If it wasn’t for you at that school party long ago, we’d probably be discussing something else today," she laughed and I along with her.
It was great to listen to how much she’s happy and still in love. I rooted for her and truly believed that they were made for each other.
And today, if everything works out as it should, he will ask her to marry him. And soon after our graduation, we will organize a wedding and I will, of course, be a witness.
When we were leaving the house, beautiful and dandy, my mom was looking at the bottom of the bottle. I was just praying in my heart that she wouldn’t open another one. I felt really sorry for her.
The ball looked astonishing. The ballroom looked like from the fairytale about Cinderella, the quality of the program was commensurate with decorations and the invited guests, highly educated teachers from around the country. It was a high-level affair and looking at all the participating students, I was proud that I was one of them. Young and full of ambition and plans for the future. And soon, with a university degree, which will hopefully help me find my life’s calling.
We sat at a large round table. There was about ten of us. Tamara sat on my right hand, Juraj next to her and the rest were footballers and their girlfriends. Only one of them didn’t have a partner, and just by chance he wound up sitting next to me. I knew, Ďuro was behind it, so I wouldn’t feel alone. I didn’t care for it.
The whole night I was impatient when the "big thing" would happen and Tamara would add a ring to her finger. I watched as Juraj was lovingly smiling at her and at that moment I was certain that true love really exists. All the while, they held hands and glowed with happiness.
After the dinner I found my phone in my purse. I wanted to call my mom if she was okay. But before I managed to do it, I saw the display indicating a received text message from my brother. My heart sank. I sensed that something wasn’t right.
Hey, sis. Mom is completely out of it. I think she should seek treatment. I took her to the emergency room, they pumped her stomach. She’s in bed now. She’ll be fit in the morning.
I ran into the hallway and called him. He just got back from the hospital. According to what he told me, she drank a second bottle of wine and even added to it a couple of glasses of vodka. He found her lying on the ground, so he called an ambulance. Blood alcohol poisoning.
I was upset. But he assured me that he will remain at home at her side.
In order to get back into the mood and have a good time, I ordered double vodka with juice and tried to forget the reality that was waiting for me in our beautiful home.
After two such drinks Roman, sitting to my left, started to seem more attractive than before.
Tamara and Juraj swayed in a slow dance, so I followed them, dragging behind me my forced partner. I needed to feel someone next to me.
We were dancing right next to them, when my partner called on Juraj and with a gesture suggested for a switch of partners. Tami laughed, but didn’t object to it. I didn’t either.
"That dress suits you," Ďuro flattered me, as I would sometimes call him.
"Thank you, dear. Tamara helped me with the selection. You also look great," I returned him a polite compliment, to which he responded with a smirk.
"That's impossible. Just look at them," I hinted with my head toward the place where my best friend was dancing with Roman. He spun her around the entire dance floor and it looked fantastic.
Juraj laughed. "Oh, yeah. we'll show them yet," he whispered to me, gripped me tighter in his arms and said:
"Just let me lead."
There was nothing else that I could do.
We danced together several times in recent years, but never like this. It was great. I felt I was flying.
When he made an abrupt pause and bent me at the waist, as do professional dancers, I smelled his beautiful scent and breath on my neck and I became a little confused. My mildly inebriated senses have for the first time over these years whispered to me that this is not just a future husband of my best friend, but that he is truly a man.
And how beautiful.
He noticed how intently I was looking at him. For a while we stayed in this pose, as if he understood what I meant. And then we danced on without a word until the disc jockey changed style of songs to one that did not suit us.
I felt a little guilty for the fact that I found Juraj to be attractive. Therefore, when Tamara whispered to me in half an hour that they are leaving, I was delighted.
Tomorrow is a new day, she will be engaged and I sober.
I stayed on to have fun with those who remained and replenished the vanishing effect of alcohol with more drinks. Around four in the morning, I decided it was time to go home. Into reality, where I didn’t want to go, but I had to go somewhere.
I refused offers to be driven home by Roman and my other classmates, I even paid a few cheeky glances at a taxi driver who just did his job and stopped next to me when I was walking in an empty street.
I wanted to be alone, but on the other hand, I didn’t want to think. About anything or anyone.
So I wandered down the street and although it was November and beneath my coat I had just a very thin dress, I wasn’t cold. In my hand I gripped a rolled up plastic bag in which I kept my shoes that I changed for high boots in the locker room of the ballroom.
I was grateful for November without snow and frost.
With so many drinks in me I probably wouldn’t be able to keep my balance and at the very least would break my head, I thought and I laughed all to myself. If anyone had been watching me, they’d probably think that I had escaped from an asylum.
I had only ten more minutes of a very slow walk to my home when it started to rain. I stopped, spread my hands and turned my face to the rain. It smeared the little bits of make-up, which still remained. I didn’t mind.
I slowly started to spin and hum the tune from the song November Rain and I felt incredibly fantastic. Freed from what was and what will be. Just me and the rain.
After several spins around my own axis, however, I got dizzy and my legs flew in all directions.
I fell. I felt a severe pain in the right forearm, with which I subconsciously wanted to protect my face during the fall. But that wasn’t all. My right knee also hurt, which I scraped against the edge of the pavement.
From the prone position, I rolled over on my back and sat down. Not a soul anywhere around. I was near a high school campus.
Who could be around in such weather and in the wee hours during a weekend? Nobody.
On my forehead I felt something sticky and when I touched it and then looked at my hand, I saw blood. It frightened me a bit and at first it occurred to me to call an ambulance.
However, the mere idea made ​​me disgusted.
Just a few hours ago, doctors tried to help my drunk mom and now the daughter too? My God, what would they think? That we are a family of alcoholics. Troubled and unhappy toasting their failures in life and in need of professional help.
The truth was that I was not troubled and unhappy, nor unsuccessful. It was my mom. Oh Mom, I thought, and tears swelled in the corners of my eyes.
I sat on the sidewalk with a hole in the dress around the right knee, sharp pain in the elbow, bleeding forehead and cried like a baby. It was not fair that my mom is suffering.


Rain has escalated, and when the rain got too heavy, I wanted to get up. I inhaled to overcome the pain when behind me I heard the noise of a stopping car. I had no mood for a Samaritan to give me a helping hand, but when I heard the voice of Duro, I sighed.
"Hey, Viktoria, what are you doing? Are you okay?" He asked as he got out of the car and ran to me.
'How did you get here?” I reacted instead of answering the question.
"I gave Tamara a ride home. I have practice around noon and I wouldn’t want to wake her up when I'll be getting ready. It was a long day and she was tired. I see that you are too. Come on, get up," he said and grabbed me under the arm.
Unfortunately, it was my right hand, so I cried out in pain, "Ouch!"
"Sorry, I didn’t know it hurts. What happened? Did somebody hurt you? Assaulted you?" he investigated as he was looking around my bloodied face.
"No, nobody assaulted me. I broke into a dance in the rain until my head spun. Could you drive me home, please?"
"Sure, of course. But first, I’ll clean the wound on your forehead. What will your mom and brother think when they’ll see you in this way?" He led me slowly to the car.
He then returned to the place of my "accident", lifted my handbag and prom shoes from the ground and sat behind the wheel.
"Are you okay? Maybe we should go to the emergency room. Did you hit your head? Do you feel dizzy?"
I liked how caring he was. Tamara will be well taken care of in life.
She deserved a guy like him.
"No Juraj, it's just a scratch. I'll be okay. Really."
I closed my eyes and in my thoughts I cursed myself how stupid I was.
How could I spill out on the sidewalk like that? Thanks to alcohol. If I were sober I'd manage not to fall.
"Final stop, miss," he said as he stopped, turned off the engine and quickly jumped out of the car and opened the door for me.
For two years, he’s been living alone, without parents. Not like me and Tamara.
I looked toward his apartment. I was here before for a few celebrations. The apartment was small but clean and nicely furnished. He was on the second floor with no elevator.
"Oh," I moaned.
He laughed.
"You're like Tamara. She also doesn’t want to climb up the stairs. And yet it’s only the second floor. And you know how I like it when she gets lazy?"
I shook my head.
He locked the car and leapt up to me, grabbed me by the waist, threw me over his shoulder and carried me towards the entrance of the tenement and then up the stairs.
I was kicking my legs and I laughing, he laughed with me.
A few minutes later, I was lying in my dress on a comfortable sofa in his living room and watched as he burrowed in his medicine cabinet looking for disinfectant. After a while my gaze wandered to the wall next to the couch.
"I remember the day when the photo was taken. As if it was only yesterday. And yet it was four years ago," I said, and Juraj smiled.
"Hmmm, you know that it was one of the most beautiful gifts I have ever received? You get the main credit. You took the picture. Tamara is perfectly beautiful. That day was all like a dream. Our team won the cup and my love was watching the match and rooting for me. When we hugged after the game, I felt that I was the happiest man in the world and that I have everything I could wish for," he said, when he viewed the photo.
He was wearing his football jerseys in the photo, he smiled beaming with happiness into the lens and Tami was kissing him on the cheek. Her hair was loose, eyes half-closed and her long eyelashes seemed even longer.
A perfect couple.
They weren’t striking any poses. It was a spontaneous joy when his football team became the overall winner of the top regional competition. We ran under the grandstand to congratulate the boys, and when I saw how they both enjoyed the moment, I couldn’t let it slip away and had to record it for all eternity.
Tamara had the photo turned into a puzzle in life size, and Juraj got it as a Christmas gift a few weeks later.
"It’s an excellent photo. And you're a really lovely couple."
"I can’t disagree," he smiled. "Now it will sting a little, but it's necessary. You have to endure it a while."
He put a cotton ball on my forehead, to which he previously applied the disinfectant. He found it, when I viewed the photo.
The disinfectant stung me more than a little. I thought I would bite off his arm or even his head. But after a while it just stopped and he went on to treat my knee in the same way. Although my right hand ached it wasn’t abraded because it was saved by my coat.
"I'll be right back. Then I’ll get you home," he said, and disappeared into the bathroom.
I closed my eyes and ran over the events from the ball. I recalled the opening ceremony and the first song of the night, boring jokes from one of the friends at the table, mending of my bra strap, which unfortunately broke, on the toilet and, eventually, I wound up at the memory of the dance with Juraj.
It was something incredible. I recalled his deep gaze and I have to say that in movies, such scenes are always followed by a kiss. Romantic, gentle ...
I saw myself as I’m smiling at him and my imagination took over the reins. I felt the touch of his fingers on my cheek. He whispered to me something that I did not understand, got closer to my neck, inhaled my scent and I felt his hot breath on my body.
Again, I felt guilty. After all, he will soon be a legitimate fiancé of my best friend and I suddenly I was seeing him as a sex object. If only in my imagination.
I wanted to dispel my ideas and open my eyes. When I did so, Juraj was sitting on the floor next to the couch and was looking over my scraped knee. He didn’t notice I opened my eyes. He thought I fell asleep, so I left it at that and closed my eyes.
A few short seconds later I again felt the tips of his fingers on my cheek. This time it was not just my imagination, but reality.
He stroked my face and I hadn’t the courage to open my eyes and ask him what he was doing. I felt the movement of his body and somehow I knew what would follow. I felt him slowly approaching my face. I still pretended to sleep, to give myself time to think about how to respond.
Suddenly, I felt his lips touching my own. He kissed me gently, as if I were stroked by rose petals.
I wriggled a little on the couch and he pulled back sharply. He gave me a quick glance, pretended that nothing happened, but did not say a word.
He opened the balcony door and entered into its darkness.
I sat up, still in disbelief what's just happened.
Could I have invented the whole thing, because I still have so much alcohol in me?
Or maybe it was true, and he really did stroke my cheek and kiss me?
Why would he do that?
The only person who could give me answers, was he. I got up and then I walked toward the balcony, I heard the beep of a received text messages from my handbag.
Devil take the cell phone when I have something much more important to worry about.
The door to the balcony creaked. He was sitting in a chair with his back to me, smoking and staring at the stars. I sat next to him and was silent. Just as he was.
He turned and looked right into my eyes. He saw in them a question that he probably didn’t want to answer.
He took another drag from the cigarette.
"Why did you do that?' I asked suddenly.
Nothing. Silence.
I got up and leaned on the railing. I watched the puddles left by the rain and wished him to finish his cigarette as soon as possible and to be already home in my bed.
Tomorrow I'm going to pretend that I was drunk and nothing had happened. And life goes on.
When I turned to face him, to examine how much longer it’s going to take, he was just getting up from the chair. He made a step towards me and I stepped back, as if I was afraid of him.
He didn’t say anything, just took another step forward, and I had nowhere to go.
We looked into each other’s eyes, as if that’s the first time him and I met. For a long time without a single wink. A long and silent conversation went on between our eyes.
And then, as if time has stopped.
From the hot embers, with which we were toying at that moment, kindled in our thoughts a huge fire capable of destroying everything around us. And yet we did not stop, even while we could.
We rushed at each other like a hungry man at a plate of food, latched on to each other’s lips, palms, bodies and took everything that was within reach.
Locked in a kiss, we moved into the living room where he tore down my new clothes and didn’t give me a chance to resist, because he felt that I couldn’t.
Tamara did not exist at that moment, even though the picture was just inches from the sin that was taking place in the apartment of her beloved man.
Everything happened quickly and it was full of energy and passion, such that I’ve never experienced before. Long kisses that followed after, as if they didn’t want to allow the mouth to say anything that could spoil the magic of this moment, words that will hurt, because there was no other way.
It will hurt. In a moment it will, but not now. Now I'm in heaven - I repeated to myself and touched Juraj, as if I weren’t to touch a man again.
A few minutes later he stopped kissing me and, for a long while, he kept looking into my eyes: "Please, do not say anything. Just be mine. For now. Forget all that unites and divides us."
I was close to tears. Slowly it occurred to me what we have done.
"I have to check the cell phone. I received a message. I hope my mom is okay," I said to divert his attention.
When I reached for my purse and was looking for my cell phone, Juraj started kissing my nipples. His hands wandered over my body and I felt him waking up again and wanting more and more.
When I finally found the phone, he was gently licking my hip bone and moved lower and lower. The excitement escalated every hundredth of a second, I breathed loud and fast, full of expectations. With a wave of orgasm, which blew through me like a hurricane, the phone fell out of my hands. I didn’t pay it any attention.
In a minute our bodies were again united in perfect harmony.
We indulged one another in different positions, and when we remained lying, exhausted on the sofa, my eye fell on the mobile phone lying on the ground.
I reached for it, but it was far away. Juraj saw this and so he grabbed it for me.
"Thank you," I smiled.
He gave me a long kiss. When I looked at the screen, there shone a small closed envelope. I clicked on it and the display showed the sender.
Tamara. I started to tremble all over.
"Are you okay? Something with your mom?" He asked carefully.
"No, it’s Tamara. She sent it to me before you ..." I fell silent.
I didn’t have the courage to deliver the final: screwed me.
"Hmmm," that was all he said.
I sat down and he did so as well. He peered over my shoulder to see the message on the screen and read it with me:
I'm the happiest woman on Earth. Juraj proposed. You will be my witness. Call me when you get up. I LOVE YOU.
After that tears streamed down my face.
Ďuro didn’t move. I jumped as though I were out of my senses and began to dress and look for the things that could reveal what's happened in the last hour. He watched in silence, then rested his head in his hands.
"You should have controlled yourself, asshole. How could you?" I shouted.
I couldn’t help but feel tremendous remorse. I just had to throw the blame on him to make myself feel a bit better.
"For all of those million years that Tamara and I are together it hasn’t happened to me before. Today I just couldn’t resist. This desire for you has grown in me, and now it just exploded. It was terribly sexy when you lay on the couch. You could’ve stopped me," he returned my accusation with the last sentence.
I jumped toward him like a female defending its cubs.
"You monster, you should’ve told me that just a few minutes ago you got engaged."
He stood up and shouted as well: "What would that change? Nothing. You liked it, and you wanted it too."
He looked me in the eye and boldly kissed me. I wanted to pull away, but he grabbed my hair and wouldn’t let me go.
After a while I stopped to defend myself, but our kisses were mixed with my tears.
"Now what? Can we live with it?” I said as I pulled away.
"We will have to. This will remain just between you and me. We did something stupid. Well, who doesn’t? We both carry equal guilt. We’ll forget," he said, and I believed him.
Yes, we’ll forget and pretend that nothing happened.
"Okay. Now call me a cab," I said mildly.
He didn’t object.
It was better this way, because someone could see us together so late. If what had happened didn’t, I wouldn’t care. After all, we were friends for years. But the facts were different.
I slept with my best friend's fiancé and I will have to live with.
Damn. Damn.


My mom looked like an angel when I came home and into her bedroom to have a look. Marcel lay in the living room in front of the TV and slept, the door to her room was left open just in case.
I sat down on her bed.
Oh, Mom, why is it all so bad? What kind of a human being am I?
I wanted to talk to someone close about what I had done. Maybe I would be a little relieved. Of course, Tamara, as my closest friend, was out of the question. And my mother slept.
Who knows what she was dreaming about.
I wasn’t sure if I would tell her about my misdoing from a few minutes ago, if she were up. We weren’t very close and I felt very sorry for that.
Slowly I left the bedroom and closed the door behind me in my room. I sat in a chair next to the commode above which reigned a huge mirror. I looked at myself for a long time.
My tousled hair served as a proof that only recently I’d been in quite a commotion. Yet I could not recoup from what I did.
How could I? Tamara is the purest person in the whole world and deserves to be happy. How can I after all of this look her in the eye? How will I be able to forget?
I tore myself out of the clothes and ferociously crumpled them.
I don’t want to see them anymore. I don’t want to be reminded of what had happened.
I crammed them into the trash can, even though they cost a lot of money.
No, I’ll never wear them again.
I lay on the bed and buried my head under the pillow. When, after a while, I decided to breathe again my gaze fell upon a shared photo of me and Tamara on the shelf next to the perfume.
Me and Tamara. We hugged and looked into the camera with broad smiles.
I started to cry. I’ve never felt worse in my entire life.
I'm dirt. Waste.
The worst of the worst.


I thought that the feelings I had experienced early in the morning after coming home would be the worst. I was wrong.
The worst was when my mom came into the room around noon and with her I smelled the aroma of the chicken broth.
"Wake up, sleepyhead. Tamara is here. And in such a good mood. Hurray, we’ll have a wedding!"
She smiled, no trace of yesterday's troubles.
I was glad. I sleepily rolled over on the bed and didn’t respond verbally. Many thoughts whirred through my head.
My mom decided to let daylight into the room. She walked over to the window and began pulling up the blinds when there was a knock on the slightly-opened door.
"May I?"
The voice belonged to Tamara. She ran to the bed and hugged me.
"Viktoria! You probably were already asleep when I wrote you. So you still don’t know. Me and Juraj, we 're engaged," she said happily.
And now to seem surprised - I thought.
"Oh, that's great. Congratulations," I said with a broad smile. I couldn’t manage more than that.
Mom just pulled the last blinds, and when she passed through the room, her gaze brushed the trash can, from which stuck my dress. She jumped toward it and started pulling them out.
"What is this? You must’ve looked really nice yesterday when you stuck the dress into the trash can instead of the commode. I’ll prepare the broth for both of you girls," she shook her head disapprovingly.
Tamara stared at me blankly.
When mom left the room with my crumpled clothes, she asked:
"Viky, what happened? Why did you throw out those clothes? They are so beautiful and you wore them only once."
Once was enough. Never again, I thought.
"I drank more than I planned. Don’t even remember that I threw them out. Believe me, it was a long, terrible night," I lied.
"But please tell how it happened?" I feigned interest in her engagement despite the fact that was the last thing I wanted to listen to.
It had to come sometime, so I better get this over with soon.
Tamara started to talk. She was beaming with happiness and circled around the room, describing every word and imitating every movement of his body, and her body, reliving those moments again and in the meantime she was stabbing the dagger into my heart deeper and deeper.
I sat on the bed and tried to appear happy, but on the inside I burned with pain. I felt like I had swallowed pins and those were digging deeper into all my organs.
"You know, I wanted to spend the first night as an engaged woman with my ​​fiancé in his apartment, but he has a workout at lunch and didn’t want me to lose sleep because of him," she said, looking mysteriously. "But before he left we enjoyed it in his car like a bunch of teenagers. We could have run up to his apartment for a moment, but it’s nice to spice it up a bit in a relationship," she giggled nicely and my stomach was in knots. Because of me, but mainly from Juraj.
He screwed me a few minutes after his fiancée.
Tamara couldn’t be stopped. She really was the happiest woman in the world, while I was the exact opposite.
The higher she floated, the deeper I fell. I wasn’t aware anymore what she was rambling about when she came to me and started to cry.
I was just combing my hair before the mirror. I put my comb on the shelf and I hugged her rigidly.
"Viktoria, thank you for everything. You're the most amazing person in the world. The best friend one could wish for. My life would be empty and sad without your love and support. You always stood by me and actually, it is to you that I owe the man of my dreams. Thank you. Oh, how much I wish I could repay you everything you have done for me. I really love you. Say you'll be my witness. That you'll be at the reach of my hand when I’ll give my life over to Juraj."
I couldn’t manage to utter the words so I just nodded my head as a sign of consent. I cried along with Tamara.
She whimpered from emotions and happiness and I from remorse and disgust over myself.
We stood in the middle of the room clamped in a hug, shaking and in sobs, and when I looked over her shoulder at myself in the mirror, I felt sick to the pit of my stomach so that it couldn’t get any worse.
I'm the worst thing that was ever born in this world.
I violently broke free from her embrace and ran to the bathroom, where I emptied the contents of my stomach into the toilet bowl.
She, of course, ran after me and knelt beside me. She held my hair, so they won’t get soiled from vomit.
Wasn’t she an angel? Again, I felt sick, because a few hours ago I slept with the man she loves.
And, with all that, she’s the one holding my hair. Damn!
After I cleaned my teeth she smiled at me pleasantly.
"It's nothing. You’ll be well in a bit."
"Tamara, I just want to say that I am glad you're happy. You deserve it. I would give my life so that you could always be smiling," I got out of myself and I meant it seriously.
"But I know that you only want the best for me," she kissed me on the forehead and lost herself in my room at the computer.
It wasn’t difficult to blame my sickness on alcohol. Almost each of the photos from the ball had me posing with alcohol. When we viewed them on our university’s website, I very much wished to go back and have another chance to make my decisions. Call a cab, let myself be escorted by one of those guys who offered themselves, or choose a completely different street for my dance number in the rain, not the one along which Juraj drove returning from Tamara’s.
I tried to stop thinking about it.
"The broth is on the table. Come on girls," my mom called from the hallway.
Everything seemed easier in the kitchen, where we settled. My mom lightened the mood, which seemed so unbearable to me.
The two discussed the latest gossip from the showbiz while the tasty chicken broth helped me feel better. At least physically.
"I'll go shopping at the supermarket. I am in the mood for baking. Buy some baking powder, dairy products and fruit and then we can produce something together," my mom said cheerfully and I rolled my eyes.
It was one of her attempts to stake her claim to the title "The Mother of the Year", which she’ll probably give up on.
Tami responded immediately: "I could go shopping with you. Until Juraj’s practice ends, you could maybe teach me some simple recipe. Soon I'll be a wife. I would like to learn something with which I could surprise my man."
She beamed with happiness. I admired the energy of the two women I loved above all else.
"I'll have a bath until you two return. And buy me, please, chocolate. Lots of chocolate," I asked them.
When they left, I went into the bath. It was nice to be home alone.
Marcel dropped off early in the morning. He was helping out a friend in a garage, where he learned a lot of things. He couldn’t forgive our father for leaving mom on her own with two children and didn’t want a penny of his money. He’d been working at the garage for three years, while studying at the university. On the one hand, it made him value money and also it helped him acquire experience which he’ll surely need in life.
I dipped my head under the water. When I emerged after a moment, I imagined professors, auditorium, thought about exams, cramming for them, all of which was just around the corner, and everything else repulsive, just so that I could drive this sin out of my mind.
Try as I might, it caught up with me again. Unexpectedly.


He knocked on the door to the bathroom and before I managed to shout, "Marcel, don’t come here, I’m bathing," the door burst open and standing in them was Ďuro.
I subsequently exchanged a comfortable supine position for a seating one and I hugged my breasts.
"What are you doing? How did you get here?!? Immediately get out!” I shouted as though I were deprived of my senses.
He quickly turned his back to me and said, "Sorry. Marcel let me in. He’s in front of the house looking at a car with the hood popped open. He told me you’re at home. He didn’t say that you’re in the bathtub."
"But what do you want in our house?" I yelled, while I stretched for the bathrobe, stepped out of the tub and quickly snuggled into it.
He stood still with his back to me.
"I called Tamara. I forgot my credit card in her purse yesterday. She said she was in the supermarket, but the purse is here. She said it’s in some compartment inside the bag. Sorry. I'm no more delighted to have ambushed you here like that than you are, especially after last night ..." He slowly turned around.
He was beautiful, although he had dark circles under his eyes circles and seemed tired. I must’ve looked the same way.
You haven’t slept a whole lot.
I dodged with my gaze sideways and passed by him rapidly.
"Then let’s find the card so you could go away."
He followed me to my room.
"Don’t worry, I’ll just take it and go," he assured me.
Water dripped from my hair as I frantically looked for the purse.
Juraj sat down on my bed. Tamara’s bag was lying just inches from him on the ground. I found the card in the very compartment Tamara described and held it out to him in my hand.
"Here. And get out."
He took it and stood up.
I retreated backward, like then on the balcony, just before he kissed me and triggered an avalanche, the consequences of which we’ll have to endure forever.
This time, he came close to me. He looked deep into my eyes and said, "Viktoria, you can’t treat me like this."
"Like what?" I exclaimed.
I turned around and took a photo off the shelf. I stuck it in front of his eyes. Me and Tamara.
"Look here. You see the person next to me? I really care about her. I betrayed her with a stab to the back. And it's all thanks to you. I'm not saying it's all your fault, but don’t make me be nice to you. I can’t do it. I can’t look at myself in the mirror," I shouted and tears streamed down my face.
I turned the photo toward me and broke down in a deep sob.
Juraj took the photo from my hand and returned it to its original position.
He hugged me and I didn’t have the strength to protest. I was crying and he didn’t say anything, only offered me his shoulder, onto which I unburdened all my torment.
"Viky, I am very sorry. I'm feeling wretched myself, but we need to talk."
He sat me on the bed and sat down beside me.
I was still crying, and when I gazed at him, I longed to die. He was beautiful.
The most beautiful man in the world.
"Listen, we did something stupid. But that’s not her fault. The two of us are to blame. After that sex we agreed to forget it. We have to. But we have to play our game until the very end. You can’t be stiff and cold toward me, different than before, because it will be suspicious. We’ll simply pretend in front of everyone that nothing happened."
"I want to go back. I want to change all that had happened. I’m very angry at myself. I can’t pretend that everything is okay," I said when I looked him into his eyes.
He slowly passed his fingers across my face and said, "You must. Because of Tamara. It's not her fault that the two of us have failed."
He hugged me once again.
In his embrace everything was different. I felt within myself - "we can do this".
When he pulled back, he smiled and left without saying a word.