You couldn't even remember whether life existed without Vladimir. Makarov had long ago become the center of your universe, around which everything revolved: all your interests, fears, desires. You went to bed thinking about him and woke up thinking about him.

From the outside you looked like the most ordinary couple: a caring and polite man and a fragile and tender girl. But behind the closed doors of your home, all hell was breaking loose.

How did it start this time? Another barbed remark of Vladimir or your disgruntled look thrown on emotion? The sounds of dishes hitting the walls, screams, your loud sobs and hands trembling from hysterics.

The quarrel lasted for more than an hour, and during that time Makarov did not utter a single word, only watched your quarrel with an icy calmness in his eyes.

"Well? Have you calmed down?" he said, when your strength had already begun to leave you.