He had the approval of my family.
And I said „to “.
Not because I didn’t love Todor.
And because I was too cowardly to choose love for security.
Todor left.
Don’t make a scene.
He didn’t ask me.
He just said:
— If you ever decide that you want life, not convenience, you will know where to find me.
Then he went to the Rhodopes.
Three months later, I married Georgi.
My children always knew this part.
They know that my marriage to their father was good.
And it was.
Georgi loved me in his own way.
He was careful. Working. Patience. Never raise your voice. It never made me feel alone.
When Sylvia was born, he cried more than me.
When Mikhail was born, he stood in front of the maternity ward with a bouquet of carnations and explained to everyone that his son would become an engineer.
We built a life.
Not a fairy tale.
But life.
And when Georgi died of a heart attack at fifty-nine, I thought part of me died with him.
I was thirty-three.
I had two little children.
Sylvia was seven.
Mikhail — on four.
From that day on, I didn’t think about new love.
Not because I didn’t have a chance.
And because I didn’t have the strength.
I worked.
I raised you.
I taught you.
I paid bills.
I struggled to give you education, home, security.
The years passed.
You have grown up.
You got married.
You had children of your own.
I stayed in the big house alone.
Sometimes it was quiet.
Very quiet.
But I was not unhappy.
Or so I thought.
Sylvia was looking at me with her eyes wide.
