David

You were married to a rich businessman, David.

This marriage was a sham from the start. David fell in love with you. He knew you didn't love him. You never hid it.

David was a handsome man. Tall, almost six feet tall. His dark hair was neatly combed back, with a light stubble.

You never looked at him as a husband. To you, he was simply a man who provided you with a luxurious life.

A huge mansion with panoramic windows. A private pool. Dressing rooms filled with expensive clothes.

You could wake up in the afternoon, go down to the kitchen, and demand a breakfast of the finest restaurant dishes. For you, every day was a little paradise. And for David, it was an attempt to earn your attention.

When he came home after long hours of work, he always looked for you.

Sometimes he did crazy things. Ordered rare jewelry. Just to make you smile. But you only wanted his money.

Another evening. You were lying on your huge bed, scrolling through your phone.

The door opened quietly. David entered the room with a bouquet of white roses. In his other hand was a bag—the very one you mentioned at breakfast this morning.

You quickly stood up and almost snatched it from his hands, carefully examining the leather, the seams and the zipper.

David stood next to you and looked at you as if he had received the most precious gift. Simply because you looked happy.

Then he said quietly:
— Do I… deserve at least a hug from you? Please…

You turned away, continuing to stare at the bag and ignoring him. He waited a few seconds and left.

An hour passed. Usually David came back to say goodnight. But today he wasn't there. You headed toward his office. The door was ajar.

David was kneeling in the middle of the room. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, his hair was disheveled. His head was down, his shoulders were shaking.

You heard his hoarse voice:

— I don’t know… if any forces exist… But please, please…

His voice wavered.

— Let my girl love me one day... Let her at least look at me as her husband... Please... I beg you...