Chapter 1 .Dasha

Our daysDashaI sat at the bar and finished my second cocktail. The music was insanely loud, but I couldn't hear it. I had a sweet smile on my face that gave the appearance that everything was fine with me. But from the inside, I was just torn to pieces.This whole damn nightclub, including visitors and attendants, knew that my boyfriend, Oleg Ignatov, the son of rich Pinocchio, was cheating on me. And I smiled sweetly. She drank this fucking cocktail and smiled sweetly. Because I really didn't care. From the first time we met, I didn't care.Why the hell is it tearing me apart?Everything is very simple. Ten minutes ago, I almost cheated on my boyfriend with one of his friends. Maxim Golovin. I hate him, but if we hadn't been interfered with, I admit at least to myself that I would not have stopped. My head was blown off so that I forgot where I was and with whom.My hands still trembled, my lips burned, and my stomach twisted just from the mere memory of his touch. I needed to go upstairs to my boyfriend and continue to play my role, but I just couldn’t bring myself to stand up and take even a step. If someone thinks that I was afraid to see Oleg, then he is right. Even in my thoughts I could not imagine that he would guess about our meetings. One of the points of our contract was my loyalty to him. And I really didn’t want some Maxim Golovin, by the way, another son of a banker and a major, to derail my life.Max came into our lives three months ago. For three months this moron does not let me pass, although he knows very well that I am Oleg's girlfriend, that we have love and a bright future ahead. And I need this bright future like air. And that means I will do my best, no matter how bad it would be for me. And it doesn’t matter at all that next to Max I forget to breathe and go crazy from one of his glances. I perfectly understand that I am another trophy for him. Although I am also another trophy for Ignatov. Long-term only. For life, so to speak. And it suits me. Let at least every day lead the girls to his apartment. The main thing is that in the future he would have a marriage with me. But it won't work with Max. I know that he only needs me for the night. Okay, two. Then he will let go and everything will be over for me. He is my whim, which will pass. And I have no other choice.Having taken a long sip of the cocktail, and exhaling noisily, I got up, straightened my dress and headed towards the VIP zone. MaksimA few sips of whiskey to calm down a bit. To calm the trembling and pretend that I'm at a cool party in a club, and not in a dark corridor, where I mentally continue to kiss Dasha Alekseeva, continue to press her body to mine and squeeze her elastic buttocks with my hands. I want her to go crazy. Like some kind of drug addict, I only think about her.This bitch haunts me for three months. But since she's kind of the girlfriend of one of my friends, I have to control myself. And today I broke down. And I don't regret it at all. I'm not sorry, but I'm mad. This whole situation with their incomprehensible relationship strains me. It's annoying, because Oleg fucks everything that moves, and Dasha still continues to look into his mouth. I am one hundred percent sure that she is also aware of all his betrayals, but for some reason she is silent. Really is it conducted on its grandmother? No different from all these chickens who are ready for anything for money. But why the hell does he keep her near him if he changes heifers like gloves. I personally saw how he sends Dasha home, and he continues to party with the girls.And now, we are spending the evening at the club, and instead of Dasha, some blonde in a short skirt is sitting on Oleg's lap. And Dasha is sitting downstairs and clearly knows what is happening here. On the other hand, I'm glad that ten minutes ago, she answered my kisses, moaned, and was ready to give herself right in that smelly corridor. Not one Olezhik to live in a buzz.In general, Oleg Ignatov is not really my friend. We met at the university, occasionally met at parties, then our companies united after some regular party. Since we had nothing to share, we continued to communicate. Then I went abroad for two years, and when I returned, he had already met Dasha. I can’t call him the best friend, and a friend in general, but it seems that he’s not just an acquaintance. In the past, he was a good guy, rich, but not a show off. The girls were always treated with respect. He didn’t get into a relationship, but he was gallant with the ladies. I don't remember having two flings at the same time. And here…I don't recognize him at all.- Oleg, yours is rising! one of the guys warns. Oleg slowly whispers something to the blonde, who, in turn, slowly rises from his knees, demonstrating the infinity of her legs, and moves to an empty seat.A minute later, Dasha appears in the hall. Sleeveless black dress, dark wavy hair loose and barely touching the shoulder blades, lips swollen from my kisses. Confidently approaches Oleg, sits next to him and kisses him on the cheek with a gentle smile. Don't look at me. In fact, he doesn't look at anyone. Everyone except me, in principle, does not care. No one has long been interested in their sick relationship.I really want to know what connects these two. And I really want to get Dasha herself for my personal use. But Oleg seems to be like a friend, and to beat off a girl from a friend also seems to be not in a pansy way. I'm sure of one thing - I'm not going to hide our connection.- Hello, honey! - Oleg puts his hand on Dasha's neck in a businesslike way. hugging her as close as possible.I keep glaring at the girl, but she ignores my presence. I turn away. I pull that same blonde to me and cover her lips with mine. I feel no resistance and only feel lipstick in my mouth. I break away and meet Dasha's indignant gaze. Lips pursed uncomfortably. We must give her five - she quickly pulls herself together and turns away in disgust. That's better. There is no need to build a Snow Queen out of yourself. And pretend like you don't remember anything. All you, girl, remember. And so that I don’t forget, I’ll definitely remind you again … Three years agoDashaMy mom and dad are the best parents in the world, and my sister and I are the happiest children, because our parents lived every day for us. We were not a rich family. We were not indulged in expensive toys, trips abroad, and the fulfillment of our every whim. But Vika and I knew from birth what love, tenderness, care and mutual understanding are. No, we, like all children, had toys, beautiful clothes, but all this was in moderation.Mom worked as a pharmacist in one of the well-known pharmacies, dad worked as a mechanic in a car repair shop. Everyone was doing their favorite thing, but everyone always found time for their daughters. Despite their modest income, which was almost completely eaten up by the mortgage on the apartment, my parents always found opportunities for our entertainment. We very often visited parks and museums with the whole family. Mom was a lover of various exhibitions, and dad was a fan of trips out of town, to nature. So there was enough variety in our life.Mom and dad met in line for movie tickets, fell in love with each other and never parted again. There is nothing surprising in this, because my mother is a real beauty. Dark-haired, swarthy, graceful. I think her great-grandmother was Italian. They say that I am a copy of my mother, although I do not consider myself a beauty. But dad is a fair-haired blue-eyed hero, whom Vika is very similar to. She was a real angel. With the hero, she was united only by the color of her hair and eyes.For eighteen years their love has bound us together. We were family. I really wanted to one day love someone the way mom loves dad. And, of course, that I would be loved like a father and mother. With tenderness in the eyes, with love in the heart, for real.I was seventeen when my sister was diagnosed with blood cancer. Leukemia. She was seven. She had to go to first grade. Vika and her mother had a medical examination before school. Then our little girl was diagnosed for the first time. But we didn't talk about it out loud in our family. Mom and dad decided to hide the truth not only from me, but also from Vika herself, believing that she was still small. I would have been in the dark for a very long time, until I began to notice that mom and dad often whisper in the kitchen, breaking off the conversation as soon as my sister or me appears in their field of vision. And mother's eyes became more and more tearful.I remember how scared I was then. For some reason, then I decided that mom and dad wanted to get a divorce. I wouldn't survive it. Every day I worked myself up more and more, until one day, quite by accident, I overheard the conversation of my parents.“Andrey, the tests were confirmed today,” my mother’s voice trembled.Silence. And again mom:“I don’t know what to do… She’s only seven… God, why are we…”- Ira, calm down! First of all, we need to tell the children!- Why? Andrew! They won't be able...- Ir! We are a family, and Dasha is already quite an adult! She must know that her sister is seriously ill! Cancer doesn't go away on its own! - my father interrupted my mother.I felt like I was deaf for a while. Emotions were running high and, unable to stand it, I ran into the room. Mom and dad turned to me at the same time.- Will she die? Yes? I whispered.Mom pressed her fist to her lips, and tears glistened in her eyes.- Dash, what are you? Nobody will die! We're just going to have a hard time. But no one dies! Dad held out his hand to me.Without thinking, I threw myself into his arms and sobbed bitterly. I didn’t know and didn’t understand anything then, but I was terribly scared. Even in my father's arms, I was very scared.And then a string of endless tests began, visits to various medical centers, doctors, and research. Naturally, Vika was told everything, and to the surprise of everyone, she took everything quite calmly. Well, of course, my mother embellished everything, turning all the ordeals in hospitals into an exciting adventure. Even when my sister and her mother were placed in a hospital for six months under the close supervision of medical workers and communication with us was limited, Vika steadfastly held on. But the droppers that caused side effects did their job. She was crying, begging to go home. Thank God, my mother found the strength in herself and together with her went through this path to the end.Now every member of our family knew about bone marrow, chemotherapy, remission, relapse and a bunch of other terms. Even little Vika understood all this better than some adults.Despite the big age difference, my sister and I were crazy about each other. And it was at this moment that we needed each other, like air.Once, when Vika was allowed to go home, she came into my room and lay down next to me on the bed. I pressed her thin body to me. She was emaciated by illness. After a course of chemotherapy, her blond hair partly fell out. I remember how she cried when it first happened. I couldn't hold back my tears. And she couldn't hide them either.- Why are you crying? she asked, looking at me with her bottomless eyes. Because I'm going to die?There was a huge lump in my throat. I couldn't answer. She just shook her head negatively.- Have you fallen in love?Smiled through the tears of her childish spontaneity. Could only affirmatively head.- Did he offend you? Vika kept asking."No," I croaked.- And then what?He just doesn't love me.- What a fool. You are very beautiful. And I love you.- I love you too, baby.We lay for a long time, hugging each other, until we fell asleep.It was then that I concluded for myself: I can not live without her.All our few relatives, as well as acquaintances and colleagues of mom and dad, having learned about the trouble that knocked on our house, did not remain indifferent. Colleagues and acquaintances from both sides collected financial assistance. Relatives helped not only financially. But the longer the treatment lasted, the more money was required. Gradually, the circle of those willing to help narrowed. Almost no one has responded to our requests. Since our apartment was in a mortgage, the loans fell away by themselves. There was hope for charities.It's been a tough year. Before Vicki's illness, I was a normal teenager with my age-related problems like acne on my face and my choice of skirt the next day. Everything has changed in a short time. I had to grow up quickly. I had my graduation. Along with all the experiences and problems, I also had to learn. I tried my best. Good grades, exemplary behavior. I really wanted my mom and dad not to be distracted by me. They had enough worries with Vika. And I did it. I scored a good number of points on the exam, but there was no talk of continuing my studies. I missed the prom, although my mother persuaded me to go at least to the official part of the holiday. She promised to come up with something with my dress. I couldn't let my parents spend money on me when every penny counted. In connection with this, categorically refused the prom. At some point, I even thought that my mother breathed a sigh of relief. I knew that I needed to look for a job. I saw how hard it was for parents to pull our family out of the hole we fell into.And then came the remission.