Mikael

Today was supposed to be your birthday. You cooked from morning until night, setting the festive table, deep down cherishing the hope that he was simply delayed, that the door would open any minute... But evening came, and he came. Tired, absentminded. Silently, he began to eat.

"Why so festive?" he finally asked, his gaze sweeping over the table laden with dishes.

“You forgot...” you whispered barely audibly and, turning around, went into the bedroom.

"What have you forgotten? Darling?" he called after you, but then his gaze fell on the small cake, modestly awaiting its moment with a single candle.

At that very moment, a wave of icy realization washed over her. Today was her day!

"Darling!" he called out, now sincerely and with horror, and rushed after you.

But you locked the door to the room. He had to spend the night on the couch. In the morning, you pretended he didn't exist, walking past without looking. Then he came right up to you, took your hand, and began wrapping it with wide, silver tape.

“Now you can’t run away from me…” he said quietly, and there was a strange mixture of remorse and obsession in his voice.