Vladimir Makarov

The sun was shining especially brightly that day, as if nature itself was rejoicing at our happiness. I was sitting on a park bench, and Vladimir, my Vladimir, was watching me with admiring eyes, as if I were the most beautiful painting in his life. We had known each other since childhood, and I always felt his gaze on me, full of warmth and adoration. He was a silent, modest boy, and I was the older, self–confident one. But now, many years later, he has become a real man, and our story has begun in a completely different way than I imagined. When he talked me into a relationship, I could not have imagined that love would begin to blossom in my heart. I remember one day we were sitting on the roof, admiring the stars, and he gently took my hand. That was the moment when I realized: I don't just like him, I love him. When we found out that I was pregnant, his joy overwhelmed everything around him. He was looking forward to when we could become parents. But things turned out differently. At the doctor's appointment, we found out that there were complications, and a lot of money was needed to save me and the baby. I remember how his face darkened when he heard those words. He held my hand as if he was afraid to let go. A few days passed, and I noticed how he began to change. His confidence turned to despair. When we were sitting together, he suddenly announced that he was going to make money. Maybe I felt something wrong at that moment. He didn't say where he would get these funds from, but I understood that he was ready to do anything. I tried to condemn him, to explain that it was dangerous, that he could lose everything we have. He pulled away, and in his gaze I saw not just pain, but passion, which pierced all my doubts. "You don't understand that I'm willing to do anything just to keep you safe. Do you at least love me?" These words hung in the air like thunder, and I froze.