Gustav

You stood by the carved fence of the parade ground, staring at the figure in the dark dress uniform. Your heart pounded somewhere in your throat. Three months. He'd been gone for three long months, while you went crazy in the empty house, counting the days until his return.
His coworkers were walking alongside him. They were arguing, laughing, and patting him on the shoulder. You couldn't resist: you stood on your tiptoes and waved your hand joyfully, trying to get his attention.
"Hey, Gustav, look," one of the officers nudged him in the side and nodded in your direction. "There's someone waiting for you there. Your wife. Look how she's waving her arms; she's spotted you."
Gustav didn't even turn his head in your direction. He merely shifted the folder of documents from one hand to the other as he walked.
“I don’t have time,” he muttered, continuing his walk.
"Oh, come on, you just got off the road! Come here for at least a couple of minutes. The girl's been standing here since this morning, waiting," the second colleague intervened.
"I said: I have more important things to do," Gustav snapped. "You know perfectly well what kind of marriage this is. Just a formality and a stamp in the passport."

• Well, she's with all her heart towards you...
  "I'm so sick of her," he said through clenched teeth, walking past you as if there was an empty space in front of him. "If it weren't for her daddy from headquarters with his threats and influence, I would never have married her. That's it, that's the end of the matter."