After taking my last bite, I gently rang the old bell. The waiter came to the booth shortly, standing before me with his usual disciplined posture.
"Bring me the bill, please," I said.
I took ten 5.45×39 bullets out of my pocket and carefully laid them on the table. Just as the waiter was about to thank me and turn away, I put two more 7.62×25mm TT bullets in his pocket.
The waiter was surprised at first, then bowed his head gratefully.
"Thank you, sir," he said.
But I was the one who should have thanked him. Because his posture, his behavior, his way of speaking carried values that had been forgotten for a long time. He had simply done his job, with honesty and respect.
That was the gesture I appreciated the most.
The waiter gave a respectful nod and quietly walked away. I took Irina's delicate hand in mine and squeezed her fingers gently. We walked slowly out of the restaurant. We were now enveloped in the night. The streets were quiet, and sparse stars twinkled in the sky. It was well past midnight, but time seemed to have stopped the moment I felt her shoulder.
I wrapped my arm around Irina's slender waist, and she gently rested her head on my shoulder. At that moment, the world was just us. Just us and the cool, peaceful breath of the night.
We walked. We were silent. But our thoughts spoke volumes...
In my mind, there was only her.
Her nobility...
The charm she showed only to me...
Her feminine gaze that belonged only to me...
Her respect, her love, her affection...
And most importantly: her embracing my dark possessiveness without fear, without hiding.
This woman was not just a lover to me, she was the meaning of my existence.
I was madly in love with her, burning inside. The fire within me could not be extinguished by anything but her.
We stopped when we reached the front of the hospital building. The building was silent, the yellow light seeping through the windows illuminating the loneliness of the night. I turned to Irina and hugged her tightly. So tightly that it felt like we would never part again.
I gently kissed her forehead. Then I looked into her eyes; there I saw myself, my heart, my past, my future.
"Goodbye, my Irina," I said, my voice trembling like warmth in my throat. "Thank you for accompanying me today."
Irina looked into my eyes first, then blushed shyly. Then she gently kissed my cheek. Her voice was soft but powerful enough to break my heart.
"Today... you made me the happiest woman in the world. I am truly grateful to you, Aleksey.
Goodbye... I love you with all my heart."
Then she glanced back. Then she slipped through the hospital door.
And I... stood there in the middle of the night for a while longer, watching her go. My heart was no longer in my chest, but behind her, beyond that door.
After Irina went inside, I go back to my car. Open the door and go into the UAZ and started driving back to the hotel where I was staying. When I arrived at the hotel, I went straight to my room and fell asleep.
---------------------
Irina closed the heavy hospital door behind her. The "click" of the door slowly closing echoed in the peaceful silence of the night. She turned the key and securely locked it. Then, without saying a word, she headed straight for the bathroom.
This was no ordinary hospital room. It was a place reserved for special people, secure, comfortable, and far above hospital standards. Inside was a large bed, a table, a few chairs, a small bookcase, and most importantly, its own bathroom with a window. The bathtub, the marble floor, the hot water system, and the faint scent of soap inside gave it the feel of a hotel.
Irina stood in front of the mirror. She looked at the dress on her once more. The fine black silk still seemed to carry the warmth of Aleksey's gaze on her skin. She took off the dress, folded it, and placed it in the wardrobe on the side. Then she turned on the bathroom faucet, and the steamy hot water quickly began to fill the bathtub.
A moment later, she stepped into the tub completely naked. Her body relaxed in the warmth of the water, all the tension in her muscles beginning to melt away. A few drops of lavender oil floating on the surface of the water transformed the atmosphere into a completely different world.
Shee leaned her head back. She closed her eyes. Only one name was spinning in her mind: Aleksey.
That man...
When they first met, she had thought he was one of Federov's dirty mercenaries. They had fought fiercely, locked eyes, even blood had been shed. Now, when she thought about it, those moments seemed like they belonged to another life.
Aleksey had plunged his knife into her leg. She hadn't been able to walk for days. But now... now she was healing. Both her body... and her heart.
Irina slowly lifted her snow-white leg out of the bathtub. Steam rippled across her skin. She looked at the old scar on her thigh. It was almost healed. The skin had closed almost smoothly, except for a red line, and she had started walking, albeit with difficulty.
She leaned back gently in the bathtub. As the warm water enveloped her skin, her thoughts intensified. The dim light of the lamp, seemingly lost behind the steam, cast trembling shadows on the white tiles of the bathroom. But her shadow occupied a deep place not only on the wall but also within her soul.
She lifted her left leg out of the water once more, looking at the fading scar on her wet, snow-white skin.
Yes... This scar still hurt.
In fact, she was angry because of this scar. Angry at Aleksey, at herself, at that day... But then she realized. If her leg hadn't been injured that day, perhaps her path wouldn't have crossed Aleksey's so much. Perhaps she would still be living her old life, alone in the darkness of the streets, facing her own loneliness. Perhaps she would have died at Federov's hands.
At first, she had thought Aleksey approached him only out of guilt. Perhaps the reason he helped her was because he wanted to bear the burden of the wound he had caused.
But as time passed, she realized that Aleksey wasn't just protecting her. He was listening too. He showed respect, paid attention to her boundaries, and his gaze carried not desire, but value, acceptance.
Irina took a deep breath. The steam from the water filled her lungs, but the tightness inside her remained.
Since childhood, she had been trained like a machine. She was not supposed to feel. In her eyes, a child never cried, a girl never showed weakness. Love was considered a "distraction" in the places where she was trained.
But now...
The compassion Aleksey showed her untangled the knots inside her like a gentle stitch.
Maybe it was a hopeless case. Maybe her past would never be erased. But wanting to be loved... that was natural.
As a woman...
As a human being...
The first time Aleksey kissed her on the forehead, something stirred deep in her heart. A strange warmth spread through her veins. A thin thread of hope sprouted between the thick walls woven with insecurity. Maybe this man... yes, maybe this man carried not just compassion, but true devotion within him.
And she was right.
Over time, Aleksey hid none of his feelings. He showed her he loved her, not with grand words, but with his gaze, his silence, the small gestures he slipped in. The care he showed for her injured leg, the way he gently leaned on her arm when they walked, the trembling of his fingers as he stroked her hair... All were declarations of love.
Irina was not stupid. On the contrary, years of training, wars, and the instinct to survive had transformed her into a strong and mature woman in every sense. She could see and understand Aleksey's love. More importantly, she recognized this love. It was real.
And this reality did not frighten her.
No.
On the contrary, it filled her with an indescribable peace.
There was no cheap desire in Aleksey's gaze, nor empty flattery in his words. Every movement, every touch carried a gentlemanly grace. He accepted her as she was, as a woman, as a human being, with all her fragility and toughness.
Irina, in turn, responded with her whole being. She was kind to him, she did not hide her love. That's how relationships are, aren't they?
Mutual.
Even love is a kind of exchange.
Even God expects something in return when promising heaven
Irina remembered Aleksey's possessive gaze, which penetrated deep into her soul. His words, "My Irina." Suddenly, her face burned like fire. Her heart began to beat wildly, out of control.
But this was not shame, nor was it fear.
This... was the tremor of being accepted.
Of belonging.
Aleksey's obsessive love, his jealousy, his frenzied protectiveness... None of it felt threatening to her. On the contrary, she could see the wounded child beneath this possessiveness.
Because she had come here through the same wounds.
They were both children who had grown up without love, once searching for their way in the dark. Now, they had found in each other the warmth they had lost.
The thought that crossed Irina's mind was clear and made her smile with sweet stubbornness:
"If a man doesn't get jealous of the woman he loves, either he doesn't love her... or he's just playing with her."
Aleksey wasn't playing or lying. He just loved her madly.
And Irina felt safer in his arms than anywhere else.
In fact, she was just as obsessed as Aleksey. Only she came from years of disciplined training, hellish operations, and suppressed emotions. Even though she knew what she felt, she had learned to control it. But the fire inside her... was just as strong as Aleksey's. Maybe even stronger.
Aleksey's offer of a night walk had seemed like pure kindness at first. But Irina understood immediately. Behind it was a desire to spend more time together, using her recovery as an excuse. And this made Aleksey even sweeter, even more real in her eyes.
Irina understood all the rules of this game of pretense—and she accepted them willingly.
Because she also wanted to spend time with Aleksey. Quietly, slowly, blending into each other.
But after accepting, only one thought remained in her mind:
"So what do I do now?"
The first and simplest problem was the clothes she was wearing. Military camouflage, backpacks, weapon straps... None of these were suitable for a woman. Especially if she wanted to appear as a woman in front of Aleksey—which she did—these were unacceptable.
She was much more than a soldier. She was a woman. And she had to stand before the man she loved with both grace and pride.
But she had spent almost no time in the city. Her leg was still weak. With every step, it carried painful vibrations like echoes of past operations.
At that moment, Marina and Natalia came to mind.
Two young doctors she had met at the hospital. Both were full of life, helpful, and had treated her with great warmth from the very first day.
She wasn't ashamed to ask for help.
Because this time, the task was not a battle, but something much more delicate: expressing her heart.
Marina took her arm without hesitation and supported her like an old friend. Natalia took her to Natalia's home.
The house was small but warm.
The children's pictures on the wall, the baskets full of toys, and the smell of freshly baked bread wafting from the kitchen... all were like windows opening onto a world Irina didn't know.
Natalia's little son, upon seeing his mother, ran toward her with a joyful giggle and hugged Natalia's leg like a sweet little koala cub. His tiny arms were locked around his mother, and his eyes held an indescribable trust.
"Mom!" she said in that pure, fragile but vibrant voice.
Something stirred inside Irina.
It was like the sound of a bell, striking her heart from a distant hilltop.
It was an unexpected feeling. Soft, warm, like an indescribable longing.
It was as if a door that had been closed somewhere in her heart had opened.
For a moment, the darkness of the past dissipated, giving way to a golden dream.
And then the thought came, sudden, burning, and intoxicatingly clear:
"What if one day I have a child too?"
But not just any child.
"What if I have a child with Aleksey?"
The thought blossomed in her mind like a flower.
Her heart raced, her face suddenly flushed.
As if someone had read her thoughts, she panicked and immediately covered her face with her hands.
But she couldn't hide her smile.
Her smile was so real, so sincere—it spilled out from between her hands.
Irina realized something at that moment.
Despite the darkness of the past, the painful years, there was still hope inside her.
She could still imagine a future, as a woman, as a human being.
A family...
A child...
A home where Aleksey's words, "My Irina," would echo.
This feeling didn't scare her.
On the contrary, for the first time, it felt so right.
Despite all the weariness inside her, the years carrying deaths, duties, orders...
She had still managed to keep compassion in a corner of her heart.
And that compassion now awakened in the arms of a small child nestled against a mother's skin.
Natalia noticed the change in Irina's eyes.
She said nothing. She just smiled.
Shortly after, they went to Natalia's cousin's boutique. The boutique was filled with elegant clothes from before the war. Wandering among the fabrics, dusty in places, carrying the scent of a forgotten history, Irina knew what she was looking for.
She hated the cheap, revealing clothes made to attract lustful glances on the streets.
She wasn't like that. She never had been.
She... was a lady.
Elegant, proud, noble.
And she wanted to look that way. Only in Aleksey's eyes, not in anyone else's.
Her fingertips trembled as she touched the fabrics.
When she stood in front of the mirror, there was a shy but deep satisfaction on her face.
And the woman in the mirror was no longer just a former GRU agent, but a woman trying to escape the darkness of her past.
She was Irina, who wanted to love, to be loved, and dreamed of a happy family.
Among the clothes, one dress caught her attention.
It was long, black, made of silky fabric. The fabric reflected the light elegantly, rippling as if flowing with every movement. The hem reached her ankles, leaving a trail of silence on the floor as she walked.
This was no random dress. It was a statement. A silent cry of femininity, nobility, and elegance.
She chose classic Czechoslovakian-style shoes to go with it.
Black, short-heeled, pointed-toe shoes...
This model was the favorite of elegant women during the Soviet era.
And now, those shoes fit Irina's feet perfectly. A small black handbag completed the look.
It was as if it had risen from the dusty shelves of the past and appeared here just for her.
She stood in front of the mirror in the corner of the cabin.
She said nothing for a few seconds.
Her eyes struggled to recognize the reflection she saw in the mirror.
In this mirror, she was not an agent, not an assassin, not a ghost of the past...
For the first time, she saw herself as a woman.
The dress fit her perfectly.
The silk belt accentuated her slender waist, proudly displaying her curves rather than hiding them.
But she did so in no way indecently.
On the contrary, with the grace of a noblewoman...
With the serenity of a queen...
When Natalia and Marina stepped out of the dressing room, there was a brief silence.
Seconds later, the words came out of both their mouths at the same time:
"A true queen!"
Irina looked away but couldn't hide the slight smile on her face.
For the first time, a compliment had touched her so deeply.
Because this dress embraced not only her body, but the woman reborn within her.
The dress was expensive.
Very expensive.
She gave away all the pistol bullets she carried and almost half of her painkillers to pay for it.
But a voice inside her whispered:
"It was worth it."
It wasn't armor.
It wasn't an invisibility cloak or a uniform symbolizing death.
This dress carried her reborn self.
She was no longer dressing just to survive, but to live.
After leaving the boutique, they went to Natalia's house.
She washed herself with warm water, cleaned herself.
Then, with Natalia and Marina's help, she braided her hair.
A single braid...
Simple but noble.
Like a lily of the valley, braided with patience and grace from start to finish.
She put on her shoes, adjusted her dress, looked at herself one last time in the mirror.
And then—without speaking, without thinking, holding her head high—she returned to the hospital.
As a new woman.
As Aleksey's Irina.
The hospital corridors were shrouded in silence.
The day was slowly turning into night, and Irina waited excitedly in her room for the hours to pass.
She checked her braid one last time in the bathroom mirror, adjusted the hem of her dress. Her heart fluttered slightly.
Today there were no duties, no orders, no battle plans.
Today she simply existed as a woman.
And for the man she loved, she only wanted to be beautiful in his eyes.
The door knocked gently.
A slow, determined but familiar touch.
Her eyes lit up. A tiny spark ignited inside her.
In a short, gentle voice:
"Come in," she said.
The door opened and Aleksey stepped inside.
But the man who entered was not the warrior she saw every day.
This man entered with a completely different light.
He wore a black shirt. He had rolled up his sleeves elegantly to his elbows, his wrists exposed—veiny hands, bony fingers...
Classic black trousers and a pair of carefully polished shoes...
Simple but impressive.
Heavy but not arrogant.
His outfit brought out the noble man inside the warrior.
Irina's breath caught for a moment.
Her heart beat so fast in her chest that she could feel its tremors beneath her clothes.
Aleksey's appearance... wasn't just handsome.
He had prepared himself for her.
Because he valued her, he wanted to look like this for Irina.
This thought shone like the sun inside Irina.
For the first time... for the first time, someone had prepared themselves so much for her.
And seeing this was beyond words.
But the real victory was in Aleksey's expression.
Aleksey paused for a moment.
At the threshold of the door, as if time had stopped...
His eyes widened, his face froze.
His pupils dilated as he looked Irina up and down.
He was seeing her like this for the first time—
In a long black dress, with her elegant posture, the feminine expression on her face, and her braided hair...
She was like a true noblewoman.
It was as if she had stepped out of a ball, not a battle.
The look of shock mixed with admiration on Aleksey's face blossomed like a flower in Irina's heart.
At that moment... she had captivated the man she loved with her femininity.
His gaze was not just any gaze—it was the genuine admiration that sparkled in a man's eyes when he saw the woman he loved.
***************
The water in the bathtub had begun to cool to the point where it could no longer warm her body.
Even the misty calm on the surface of the water paled in comparison to the storms raging inside Irina.
She took a deep breath and opened her eyes.
She slowly sat up, clinging to the edge of the tub with her fingertips as she climbed out.
She grabbed the towel from the bathroom; as she dried her body, water droplets fell onto the marble floor, and she felt the cold beneath her bare feet.
But inside, she was still warm.
With the sparks of a heart burning brightly...
Then she put on the white, finely woven nightgown Natalia had given her as a gift when she bought the dress.
The nightgown... simple, but elegant.
She went into the bedroom.
She didn't turn off the lights completely; a dim yellow lamp cast a flickering glow in the corner.
She slowly lay down on the bed.
As she pulled the blanket over herself, her hair spread out on the pillow, the silk fabric of the nightgown gliding over her skin like a dance.
But when she closed her eyes, the curtain of her mind opened again.
The scenes of the day passed before her one by one.
Aleksey's first glance...
Her laughter while eating the cake...
Their kiss in the restaurant...
The moment he held her hand...
And the kiss he left on her forehead as they said goodbye at the door.
Each one echoed in the depths of her heart.
She felt a flutter in her stomach.
It was hard to describe. It wasn't fear or unease...
On the contrary, it was as if butterflies had awakened somewhere inside her.
A sweet, shy smile appeared on her face.
She pulled the blanket a little tighter around her and buried her nose in it.