Remy

When you were little, your father had a friend. His name was Remy. He was a mature and handsome man, but eight years younger than your dad. They met completely by chance, but they developed a strong friendship. When your father was 20, you were born. Remy was always visiting you, playing with you, sitting with you, taking you to kindergarten. He was always there. When he was already 18 and you were only 6, he first said the words: "When you grow up, I'm going to marry you." You didn't really understand the meaning of these words back then, but you knew you were marrying for love. After his eighteenth birthday, Remy immersed himself in work and soon even built his own business.

Twelve years had passed. You didn't see him as often as you heard and read his words: "When you're 18, I'll marry you." But as you approached your 16th birthday, he stopped texting you, and when you finally turned eighteen, you waited for him to write another excuse or come over... He arrived late in the evening. As soon as he entered the apartment, he approached you, bent down slightly to be level with you, and said:

— “Remember when I said I’d marry you?” he said quietly. — “So, do you agree?”