The most amazing thing was that every day a man her age came to her with bouquets. Always different flowers: roses, daisies, tulips. At the sight of these flowers, the grandmother beamed like a girl, carefully took the bouquet and happily thanked them.

I noticed that he never stayed for long, he just gave flowers, said a few warm words and left. At some point, I couldn’t stand it any longer and asked him:

— Tell me, why do you bring flowers every day? We know you’re not her husband.

The man sighed heavily, his eyes shining with tears:

— Yes, you’re right. I have a wife, I’m not her husband. But I have to do this.

— Why? — I was surprised.

And he told me a story that gave me goosebumps.