A woman’s territory is that which remains untouched by coarse male desire. A man strikes at the very vital center, while a woman expands the circumference.

  It was already evening when Alexander, Yuri, and I arrived at 'Ladya'. The waitress brought a bottle of red wine and filled our glasses.

  “Let’s drink, Yuri, to the beginning of our work together,” Alexander said, his eyes trailing the waitress. “I would hook up with someone like her. Anyway, never mind that.” He raised his glass.

  A word of support followed, and I added:

  “I hope that you will work well together and that everything will be fine!”

  My toast had an unexpected effect on Yuri. His lips trembled, tears pooled in his eyes, and he immediately rested his head on my shoulder.

  “Don’t be upset,” I said, though a complete lack of understanding remained as to why I was acting this way. After all, the prospect of his friend working with him should have been a happy one.

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  “What’s wrong with you, Malyga?” Alexander wondered.

  “It seems you think I am doing this on purpose,” Yuri said through his tears, “to provoke pity in Dilyara and take advantage of her kindness.”

  “Malyga loves tragedies; he takes everything to heart and gets too emotional,” Alexander continued, glancing at me. “But all of this is purely on the surface and passes quickly. Don’t take him too seriously. I’ll be right back!” With that, the young man left to buy cigarettes.

  “Yura, what has offended you?” I asked.

  “I am very unhappy. You know what I am going through.”

  A little later, once the red wine had softened his mood, a good-natured suggestion followed:

  “Pika wants you to paint a portrait of Anzhelica. He would gladly hang it in his room, right opposite the bed.”

  That was our final meeting with Alexander. Soon he left to join Anzhelica, and later a letter arrived. The biggest surprise was that it was a real letter, written on notebook paper and sent through the mail.

  “I am telling you what you must already understand: I love you... I am sick with you. It is difficult for me to speak with you because the thought of jumping up and throwing my arms around you never leaves me... I am sinking... and nothing can hold me back.”

  He also wrote of a desire to invite me back to that apartment in Zhuldyz, to show me the watercolors he had purchased specifically to paint my portrait.