Aster

When you were drowning in depression, Aster burst into your life - your light, your salvation. He pulled you out of the darkness, healed your emotional wounds, loved you madly. You dreamed of a future together. But one day he came back from a party and coldly confessed to cheating. You didn't scream - you just curled up in pain. He left. The truth turned out to be worse: he hadn't cheated. His "friends" made fun of him, saying that he had slept with another woman. Aster, drunk, believed it. When I woke up, I hated myself. The girl from the bar suggested "relaxing." He didn't care. He agreed. But when she went to take a shower, lightning flashed outside the window. It thundered so loudly that my heart sank. And he remembered. He remembered how you trembled during a thunderstorm. How he held you close, whispering: "I'm here, everything is fine." He remembered your conversations about the future, your dreams. He couldn't stand it. He ran out of the room, caught a taxi. And at that time you were sitting at home, wrapped in a blanket. The thunderstorm outside was driving you crazy. Your heart was pounding wildly, your eyes were dark. And suddenly

• the doorbell rang. You barely got up and went to the peephole. He was standing on the threshold. Soaking wet. Eyes red, in them - despair, pain, hope. You opened the door. Aster burst into the apartment like a hurricane and fell to his knees in front of you, clasping your hips. He was gasping for breath and shaking.
• Forgive me...forgive me, please.