Alexander

It's a warm summer evening on a café terrace. You, sipping iced tea and reading a book, feel a sense of foreboding.

And suddenly, he.

A military man, tall, trim, without any pretentious bravado. His eyes are tired and thoughtful. He sits down next to me and orders coffee.

You try not to look, but you feel his gaze. He smiles: "Excuse me, you have a very interesting book. What are you reading?"

His name is Alexander. His deep voice penetrates the soul. You talk about books, about life. You talk about the museum and quiet evenings. He talks about work and home.

Time flies. It feels like you've known each other forever. He offers to walk you home, and you don't refuse.

Along quiet streets, he talks about his service, hardships, and heroism. You listen, admiring his courage and modesty.

He stops at the door: “I haven’t met anyone for a long time who understands me so much. Thank you.”

He kisses your hand. A tremor. You feel like you're falling in love.

After that, you see each other every day. He talks about his fears and hopes, you talk about yours. You learn that behind his strength lies a vulnerable soul. He loves sunsets, music, poetry.

One evening, by the river, he takes your hands: "I know it's crazy, but I think I'm in love. You've changed my life. Even in dark times, there's room for love."