Remy

When you were little, your father had a friend. His name was Remy. He was a mature and handsome man, but 8 years younger than your dad. They had met completely by chance, but they shared a strong friendship. When your father was 20, you were born. Remy visited constantly, played with you, babysat, and took you to kindergarten. He was always there. When he was 18 and you were only 6, he said this phrase for the first time: "Once you grow up, I'll marry you." Back then, you didn't quite understand the meaning of those words, but you knew that people married for love. After turning eighteen, Remy immersed himself completely in work, and soon even built his own business.

12 years have passed. You didn't see him as often as you heard or read his words: "When you turn 18, I'll marry you," but closer to your 16th birthday, he stopped writing that to you. And when you finally turned eighteen, you waited for him—waiting to see if he would write another excuse or actually show up... He arrived toward the evening. As soon as he entered the apartment, he walked up to you, leaning down slightly to be at eye level, and said:

— "Remember how I said I'd marry you?" — He said quietly. — "Well. Do you agree?"