I stare out the window as if through it I can see what awaits me next. Maybe freedom. Maybe loneliness. Or maybe a new, quiet life without love, but with meaning. My meaning. Our baby.
The tears have long since dried. Only silence remains. So loud that it seems I can hear the tiny heartbeat inside me.
Maxim…
If only you knew how deeply I love you.
If you could feel even a fraction of what I have inside, you would never let me go.
But precisely because I love you—I will let you go. With my own hands, gritting my teeth, with bitterness in my chest… I will do it.
I have chosen a path. Baby, now it's just you and me. And he… he will be happy. Without us. But he will be. I believe that.
And someday, maybe, he will love again. And laugh. And I will hold your hand and tell you bedtime stories. And everything will be fine. Everything will definitely be fine.
Pregnant.
That word strikes me like thunder out of a clear sky. I am sitting on a cold hospital couch, clutching the edge of the medical sheet, trying to gather my thoughts. The doctor looks at me sympathetically, but his words echo in my head, pushing reality away, as if I am hearing someone else's story: "You are pregnant."
The last few days I have been feeling unwell—weakness, dizziness, constant nausea. But I blame it all on stress, lack of sleep, studying. I cannot even imagine that life is already growing inside me. A life that Max and I, without knowing it, have created together.
It happens the day before his mother is supposed to arrive. I stand by the window, holding the test results in my hands, my heart pounding as if ready to burst out of my chest. I don't know what to do.
Tell Max? Tell him he will become a father? Or… No. Even the thought pierces my soul like an icy knife.
Abortion? Never. I cannot. This is our baby. A part of him, a part of us. A child conceived in love. How could I give this up? I feel a tiny life forming inside me, a tiny person who has already become everything to me.
But I know Max. I know how responsible and selfless he is. He wouldn't let me go through this alone. He would immediately want to quit school, find any job to support us. He would start working day and night, forgetting about himself and his dreams, just so I and the baby would be okay.
I cannot allow that. I cannot ruin his life.
But the decision is not mine. His mother makes it. At first glance, she understands what is happening. Female intuition, a look, experience—all combined in her. She looks at me in a special way, as if reading the whole truth in my eyes without words.
And then I realize. I can no longer stay in his life. My presence is chains pulling him down. I am his brake. No matter how painful it is, I must leave. Give him freedom. Give him a chance to become who he dreams of. He deserves a bright future. And I… I will just love him from a distance.
I make the decision. Terrible, soul-breaking, but necessary. First, I must part with him. That will be the hardest part of my plan. I already feel my throat tighten at the very thought of it. How will I look him in the eyes and say the words that will break us both?
I will take my documents from the institute. Studying in the same place with him will be unbearable. I won't be able to see him in the hallway, accidentally catch his gaze, hear his voice… And how can one study when a new life is growing inside and a storm is raging in the soul?
I will sell the apartment. I will move to my grandmother's. She will take us in. She has always been my quiet harbor, a warm blanket on a cold day. There I can start all over again. I will have money for childbirth. For diapers, for the first stroller, for everything we need. I will manage.
And Max… He will continue living. Continue dreaming. Studying. He will forget me—maybe not immediately, but with time. He will find someone who will be by his side, who will not destroy his plans. He is strong. He will endure everything.
And me? I… I must be strong too. For the child. For him.
We both know it isn't forever. That our love is like a comet's flash: bright, dazzling, and brief. We know the day of farewell will come. And it will be in a week.
Oh, this week… It will be the brightest and the darkest in my life. I will soak in every glance, every touch, every laugh from him like the last breath of air.
I stroke my belly, and tears run down my cheeks. Inside — our miracle. A piece of love. A reminder that once I was truly happy.
Everything that is between us has become my flesh, my heart.
I will never forget. Never.
Neither his hands, holding me tightly in the middle of the night.
Nor his eyes, full of tenderness.
Nor his voice, whispering, "I'm here."
He is a part of me. He will stay with me forever.
At first, I laugh at how quickly he got attached. But now I am the one clinging to him with all my might. I don't know how to live without him. But I have to.
Only one thing holds me back — our child. My anchor. My everything.
I remember the first time he said, "I love you." And back then, I am just beginning to realize I feel the same. Or that night in the club… How he fought for me. How he protected me, standing with his chest between me and Ivan. I think he would be killed. I am scared. Maxim barely knows me, but he is already ready to fight for me. He shows he can be my hero. My shield.
And then… when we are kidnapped… I see fear, rage, determination in his eyes. Again ready to die just so they wouldn't touch me. He is protecting not only me. He is protecting the three of us. Me. Himself. And our baby.
And now I have to protect him… from myself. What irony. I am his enemy, his threat, his premonition of pain, the one who could destroy his future if I stay. I didn't understand this for a long time, hide behind a dream, believe that love is a cure for everything. But now I see: our life together does not lead him to the light. It leads to nowhere. To me. And inside me there is too much pain, unresolved wounds, and bottomless holes through which everything good leaks away.
We shouldn't have started. But we did. And I don't regret it.
Because even if I knew the end — this silent, slowly approaching finale, like a shadow from the sun — I would choose him again. I would choose all of it again.
For one look from him, one smile, for his breath on my neck early in the morning, when the whole world is still asleep.
For that blissful feeling of happiness, as if the entire cosmos for a moment becomes warm, safe, and gentle.
For the feeling that I am not a mistake. That I am worthy. That I am loved. Loved… just like that. Without conditions. Without promises. Without requests. Without obligations. Even without words. I never once say it out loud to him. The word "love" gets stuck in my throat like a lump of cotton, like the whisper of the wind through a narrow window crack. I am afraid that if I say it — it will change everything. Or, on the contrary, change nothing.
I enter the apartment. The wind outside quiets, as if the entire universe holds its breath for a moment. It is quiet. Frighteningly, sterile quiet. This silence no longer feels cozy like before. It is too real. Like a pause before the last line in a play.
I walk down the hallway as if through a dream and open the bedroom door. He is sleeping. So familiar. Innocent. Mine. The light from the hallway softly slips across his face. I hold my breath.
There he is — my perfect boy turned into the man I so want. So handsome, even in this vulnerable silence of sleep. His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm. He is so close, and yet — already so far away.
I stand and watch. Watch as if memorizing forever. Because in a week he will no longer be mine. In a week I will leave, leaving him only memories. He doesn't know this. And I already feel everything inside me cracking from this pain.
I lie down beside him. Carefully, as if afraid to disturb his sleep.
He stirs, exhales quietly, and as if sensing me, opens his eyes. His gaze is a little sleepy, but in it — there is that very kindness that once saved me from myself.
"You're back?" he asks, and his voice is warm, like morning tea on a cold day.
Maxim smiles. That smile that takes my breath away, even after everything. A smile without reproach. Only love. Only him. And it makes me want to cry. Because it will end. Because this is goodbye wrapped in the beautiful packaging of the last evening.
"Yes," the lump in my throat is huge, but I swallow it. Not now. Not yet.
"How is Vi?" he asks.
Oh, if only you knew, my love, how much pain is in that simple question. If only you knew how easily you trust me, and how subtly I betray you — not with deeds, but with silence.
"He's fine. We had coffee, just talked," I lie. For the first time. But unfortunately, it is not the last lie I tell him.
"That's good. I was tired of waiting and decided to sleep."
I touch his cheek with a trembling hand. Warm. Familiar. So gentle, as if life itself is in it. He takes my palm in his, firmly, carefully, as if afraid to scare me away. And — kisses it. Tenderly. Almost weightlessly. That touch pierces me through and through, burns my soul with fire of pain and love. As if time stops. As if the whole world shrinks to this point of contact — his lips, my hand. I breathe in his scent, listen to his breathing, and with my whole body memorize: his warmth, his skin, his love — the love I might be losing.
Let everything disappear. But this… this will remain in me forever.
"Let's go on a date," I say, and my voice trembles.
He smiles wider. There he is — my cosmos. My peace.
"I'm all for it. Any ideas?"
"I want to go wherever you want to take me. Consider your wish continues," I whisper with difficulty. As if giving him the last dream. The last gift.
"Um… Let's go to the planetarium, like we wanted," he says, a little shyly.
The planetarium.
Yes, that's perfect. We will sit in the dark, look at the stars, and I can hold his hand. No one will see my tears.
There, in the hall among the projections of galaxies, I will say goodbye to him in my soul. Without words. Only with feeling. Because if I could live this love once more — I would choose him again.
Always.
"Then we'll go tomorrow," I nod.
He hugs me, and we lie in silence. I listen to his heartbeat. It is a sound I once got used to. And now — a sound I will dream of every night.