She seemed to be the perfect woman, but a demon lay in her soul - part 2

She seemed to be the perfect woman, but a demon lay in her soul - part 2

"That's how it's been so far. From now, Demyan will drink less!" she gestured her hand in a dictatorial gesture reminiscent of famous dictators.

I didn't want to create a scene, so I obeyed: I got up from the table, greeted my friends - amazed by the scene they had witnessed - and followed Nura. Of course, on the way I had a serious discussion, trying to make her understand that she had made a mistake in breaking the party just when it was in full swing, and she continued to claim that she had done the right thing, that she was not interested in others:

"I don't care what one or the other says, I do what I want, not what they want. And you, if you don't want to lose me, you're going to do what I tell you to do! he concluded in the same authoritarian style, which I did not know, but which my father had perfectly sensed when he had warned me of Nura's ugly character. The second time my blonde put me in an embarrassing situation in front of my lifelong entourage was when we all went to Al-Maktoum Stadium. Things went well up to a point, the fun being maximum. At one point, however, it was when we started drinking beer and eating fast food, and she came up overboard: unhappy with what she saw. Nura shook my hand and scolded me, horrified as if she had seen something extremely disgusting:

"What does this mess mean Demyan? Where do you think you are? Such a thing must not be done! You disgust me."

"Well, where do you think I'm Nura? On the stadium! And that's exactly what we suppose do on the stadium! I replied, absolutely stunned by what I heard. It's not a mess, you can see that we put all the leftovers in the bags. Is no reason to be disgusted."

"Indeed, there is nothing out of commune sense in all this." Nura! That's why we came to the stadium to feel good, right? Sasha defended me, obviously embarrassed by my girlfriend's intervention. Relax, everything is under control.

"How can I relax in such company? You all disgust me!" she burst out then, unable to control her nature. "Take me home, Demyan! I don't want to spend not even one more second in this miserable place!"

I won't tell you what was on her lips all the way, but I think you can imagine. I will only give you back the end, a rather predictable one, after the increasingly unpleasant turn that our relationship had taken:

"Demyan, if you don't get your mind right, if you don't become the serious and honest man I want in my life, I'll leave you! Don't say you didn't know!"

Scenes like the ones above have been numerous over the course of the few months that our relationship has lasted. Practically, at almost every time we went out with friends, when she was supposed to be serene and cheerful, Nura found something that didn't suit her, reproached someone and ruined everything, so it's no wonder that our friends nicknamed her "party death": you even lost all your joy when you heard her geting angry for no reason and found a reason and started to argue with whoever stood in her way. Slowly, most of my friends started to get around me and avoid coming to where they knew I was going to be accompanied by Nura.

"Demyan, I'm sorry to tell you, but I'm not coming." I don't feel like getting upset because of your girlfriend's moods, with the air of a queen and with manners of a woman who sleeps on the streets, who hates us just because we are happy and we like to laugh and joke! Sasha refused me at the same time speaking on behalf of all my friends when, sipping our beer, I invited him to my birthday anniversary. And, as I know the boys, I don't think anyone will come.

What can I say, great loss! You may not come, because we don't mind. Demyan and I will be better off alone without your pathetic company! he replied on the spot, without hiding the satisfaction of having escaped the presence of my friends, whom she could never suffer. Come on, honey, let's go!

But I didn't go, I stayed. For the first time, I didn't do what she wanted. Because I was too upset with what she said; she had stretched the rope way too far. I had suffered too much from her, she had humiliated me too much in front of my friends, she had alienated me too much from them. It had been the drop that filled the glass of my patience. It was time to do what I should have done a long time ago: to break up with her. And that is exactly what I did, not before measuring those present with my eyes and reading on their faces, rippled with amazement mixed with nausea, approval.

"You know what, Nura? Get up nicely from the table and speed up! I urged her as politely as I could, leaving her perplexed. Find another sucker who will tolerate your whims! You... selfish bitch!"

"I beg your pardon? Are you talking to me? Demyan? I don't recognize you, darling!" she tried to fix the situation, realizing it wasn't a joke, and hoping she would cling to me like a dog's fur thistles. " Be more reasonable! "

"I was too lenient! Way too much!"

"But I'm done! Enough!" I screamed like a wounded animal, for my soul ached after dripping bitterly into it. "Get out of my face!"

Luckily for her, Nura realized there was no point in lingering, so she got up and left; otherwise, I don't know what I would have been able to do.

I breathed a sigh of relief, as did all those present. It was only then that I noticed that the pressure that the diabolical women had put on me had passed on to my friends, who did not feel at all comfortable in her presence. But as soon as it disappeared, the pressure disappeared, and we became the same beautiful and cheerful group of yesteryear again. What was harder had passed ... After separating from Nura, I was still in emotional convalescence, limiting myself to mechanical erotic acts in the company of escort ladies. Then, being healed, I made another attempt at sentimental rapprochement. To the joy of me, my parents and friends, the one I chose to be my girlfriend, a student from Abu Dhabi, turned out to be a warm, understanding girl who knows how to value the man next to her and make him feel like a man. Ilona, as she is called, never told me not to drink anymore, but on the contrary, when she sees the empty glass, she immediately puts her hand on the bottle and immediately offers to pour:

"What are you doing, Demyan, stay empty-handed? May I? Let me pour you another one! Cheers!"

How can you not love such a woman? It is impossible not to love her. I, at least, am melted by her like a butter in the hot pan, just like everyone who knows her. It strikes me that if she continues to be as adorable as ever, I should ask her to be my wife.

the End