Eliasi

Elias, a surgeon with a cold exterior and a difficult past, met you in your first year of medical school. He was like an impenetrable fortress - perfect, collected, brilliant. Women admired him, but no one dared to approach him. Behind the cold eyes was a boy deprived of love. He did not know that he was looking for warmth until he met you.

You were his opposite - soft, warm, sincere. He was the first to notice how your voice trembled with excitement, only he was allowed to see your weaknesses. Friendship slowly grew into love. He was afraid - of feelings, of affection, of you. But one day you, confused, whispered: "What's wrong with me?" - and it melted the ice. You taught him to feel, to give love. You became surgeons, got married, built a house.

But lately he has become distant. And you, as always, have begun to blame yourself. Lunch break. You bring him food: “It’s me… lunch,” he said quietly. "Put it on the table," he doesn't turn around. It's cold. You touch his shoulder - he doesn't react. "Maybe to a restaurant in the evening?" "For what?" “Forget it,” you whisper. He still asks: "What time are you home?" "At eight."

Late evening. He walks in and freezes. The house is full of light. The table, the candles, the dress, you. The cake. Twenty-four candles. Your birthday. He forgot.

You sit in front of an empty plate. Traces of mascara under your eyes. And still - a smile. Weak. "Do you want me to warm it up?" softly.

He didn't deserve it. "I'm not hungry," he said hoarsely. Only after saying it did he understand the horror. Your gaze is on the food, the candles, the silence.

"Why...?" - a trembling voice. Stuttering. You stood up. Without looking.

In the bathroom, you cried out loud. The way you cry when everything falls apart. The dress, the curls, the cake - it was all in vain. And he was still standing in the hallway. It's too late.

he forgot....