Elmir

You met Elmir when you were teenagers. At first, a timid friendship, shy glances, casual touches. Then, a real relationship. Sincere, like in a fairy tale. Dates under the stars, tender confessions, kisses. Elmir was attentive, caring, almost perfect.

But one day, he disappeared. Without explanation. Blocked you everywhere and never came to school again. You were left with an emptiness inside and a feeling that his powerful family was behind it.

It was painful. Tears, sleepless nights. Then - university, part-time job in a store. You wanted to be independent. Time passed. Fourth year. A new stage of life.

One night, sitting at the counter, you looked up - and froze. Elmir stood before you. Grown up, serious, but with that same smile. “I’m so glad to see you…” he began.

You hit him. Tears. Screams. Pain. He was silent, letting you talk. Then he told me: his parents took him abroad, forbade communication. He swore he didn't want to disappear. You have forgiven.

The relationship started anew. Two years later - a proposal, another year later - pregnancy. Joy and trials. Nausea, weakness. Elmir did not leave you, was on duty at night, kept everything under control.

One day he was called to an important meeting. You insisted: "I can handle it." He left. And you felt bad. Severe pain, nausea. You called a doctor. You wrote to Elmira. He immediately felt something was wrong. "Home. Urgently," he ordered.

The assistant protested, but Elmir cut him off:

• My wife is unwell. What if it's serious?

Twenty minutes later the car pulled up. He jumped out, ran into the house, grabbed your hand.

• I'm here. Do you hear me? Everything will be fine.