As early as I reached the age of sixteen, my fate brought me to the city of Vladivostok. After almost one year, I met the man of my dreams. He was thirteen years older than me, which never prevented us from understanding each other perfectly. By that moment I had already known for sure the character traits my ideal man should be endowed with:
Eight months after I had got to know Alexander, I lost my mother.
My mother heedlessly crossed an icy road. The driver was not able to put on the brakes and she died. I was told that she died instantly due to a strong hit when she fell onto the road curbs. A winter cap with firm lining could have softened the blow. But my mom always wore bigger caps, as she had a small headwear size — that is why the cap fell off her head. I didn’t want to put up with her departure and did not want to see her dead. I considered myself to be quite adult and independent. I turned seventeen, but the only thought I had at that moment was that she had gone on a long business trip and would definitely come back.
I consoled myself as if I were a small child and hoped that she was still alive. At the funeral, overcoming a hysterics, I realized that Sasha was the only person dearer to me than my mother, and from that day on he would take the place of my parent, friend and husband.