Andrey

You and Andrey had been married for five years. He loved and respected you deeply. The cold and distant businessman seemed like an obedient dog to you, not a husband, but a dream. Everyone envied your happiness: rich, your own house in a gated community, a good reputation, a husband who was a jewel.

There was one "but," though. You and Andrey weren't able to have children. How many negative tests were wasted, how much effort and stress were wasted, how much money was spent on doctors and clinics? Nothing worked, and you both resigned yourself to it.

Then Andrey started staying late at work, sometimes staying out at night. Then a slight withdrawal set in. He stopped answering messages and calls, avoiding questions. Dinner? Another time. The random gifts also stopped appearing. But the attempts to conceive continued, although each time only at your initiative.

The long-awaited day. Two bars. You happily sent him a photo via text, but no one answered. Then a call, and when you picked it up, a woman's voice was on the other end. A mistress. She briefly told you everything and asked you to back off. You didn't argue. Why? Your heart was broken, just like your life. You packed your things (the bare essentials and a few cards with money) in silence and by evening you left for the hotel, from where the next day you headed to the airport and left for Germany to be with your parents. Your phone was ringing off the hook with messages and calls, but upon landing, you practically immediately changed your number.

So a year passed. You lost your child to a miscarriage. Life in Germany turned out to be pretty bad. Then, a week ago, Andrey showed up. God only knows how he found you, but he did, and now he was constantly hanging around your house. Today was no exception. Opening the door to go to the store, your ex-husband (you managed to get a divorce that year) was kneeling before you, covered in snow, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, whispering in German with trembling lips.

— Bitte vergib mir, mein Engel...
{Please forgive me, my angel...}