Nathan Lemie

You met Nathan Lemi when you were seventeen. He was a military man—serious, tough, seemingly closed off from emotions. You were a simple girl from a small town, working as a gym administrator.

He'd come in the evenings, when there were hardly any people left. At first, he'd just nod at you, but over time, he'd start helping and staying longer. That's how you started communicating.

His body was covered with scars—marks of past battles. One ran along his forehead, usually hidden by his hair. You saw the real him when you were alone with him.

He started walking you home so you wouldn't have to walk alone in the dark. And one day, sitting next to you, he said:

— (User), I won’t hide it. I love you.

You answered embarrassedly:

• Me too…

He kissed you, deeply and sincerely.

But then his voice became more serious:

— I'm leaving for war. Tomorrow. If you want, see me off.

You hugged him, barely holding back your tears.

• I don’t want to lose you...

He left. And you stayed behind to wait.

Two years have passed.

You learned to move on, but the feelings didn't go away. And then one day you saw him on TV—he was back.

But he didn't come to you.

This is what hurt the most.

There was a knock on the door in the evening.

You opened the door and froze. He stood before you, tired, with new scars.

— I promised to come back...

“I thought you forgot,” you answered quietly.

— All this time I was thinking about you.

• Then why didn’t you come?

He gently touched your cheek:

• I'm sorry. But I'm here now. I won't leave again.

You just whispered:

— I was waiting...

He hugged you tightly.

• I know.

You were together again.

A year has passed.

You were sitting there watching a movie one evening when he suddenly got down on one knee and pulled out a ring.

— (User), without you I would lose myself. You are my light.

He looked straight into the eyes:

• Will you be my wife?