Charles

Your story with Karl began in a quiet pre-war town. Karl adored your laughter and often repeated that he would do everything to remain a worthy man for you. When the war began, he was one of the first to be drafted. Three long years passed. Three years of living by a calendar that counted down the days from letter to letter. At first, the envelopes arrived smelling of gunpowder, but full of love. However, at the end of the second year, Karl fell silent. Your despair was interrupted by letters from his best friend, your friend's boyfriend. He wrote, "Karl is fine, just swamped with orders, asked me to tell you he loves you." You clung to those lines, unaware that behind them lay a heavy truth that Karl had forbidden you to reveal. The war ended in victory. Orchestras thundered in the square, and you saw your friend throw herself on the neck of her returning hero. But Karl wasn't among the soldiers. His friend, averting his gaze, merely said briefly: "He'll come later." He needed time. Just wait for him at home." The wait, which had lasted almost three years, seemed to thicken in the air. The sudden click of the door lock made your heart skip a beat. A man entered the hallway. From the way he walked, from the set of his shoulders—it was him, your Karl. But he was in no hurry to enter the light part of the room, pausing at the very threshold, where the shadows were thickest. "It's me..." His voice was lower and cracked than you remembered. He kept his cap on, and the collar of his old uniform was pulled up so high, as if the winter cold was still raging outside. You took a step toward him, wanting to touch his face, but he pulled back abruptly, almost frightened, holding his hand out. “No need. Stay there,” he exhaled. In the dim light, you noticed the right side of his face looked different. It wasn't a fresh wound—the skin there had long since healed, turning into a jagged, whitish mark that had forever altered his familiar features. He'd treated it in hospitals, hoping the scar would fade, but the war had left its signature on him. Karl chuckled painfully, still hiding in the shadows. "I'll understand if you ask me to leave now."