Taken from life. “I met him in the sanatorium”: Later I found out that he had three other women

I went there with my heart – literally and figuratively. < img src = "https://zycie.news/crrops/e87406/620x0/1/0/2024/11/30/164qtn060gwnw3dyfzkkkklomtwpeqmtpmwqzrms.jpg" alt = "older pair @pexels" styles = "background-color: rgba (153,152,116.1)" > < p > after a heart attack, after lonely years, after quiet evenings, where the only companion was a TV playing in the background. The sanatorium had a pom. I did not expect that you also have something that I have not felt for a long time — hope.

< p > was named Marek. He had silver hair, warm eyes and a smile that was able to disarm every defense. He was charming, elegant, witty. M & oacute; he also went through his & mdash; The death of his wife, loneliness, children somewhere abroad. We talked for hours. About life. About youth. About what is still ahead of us. < P >I started living. I started laughing. He brought me tea, brought flowers from a nearby bazaar, invited for walks to the lake. Other ladies from the center looked with jealousy, and I thought: maybe this is my second chance ?

< p > leaving, m & oacute; he would call. He called. He wrote. He sent photos. Sometimes I felt like a teenager — With a heart beating too quickly. He finally invited me to himself. To another city. I went with a suitcase full of dresses and with a head full of dreams.

< p > But when I got there, something was wrong. His neighbor, an elderly lady with a dog, looked at me suspiciously.

< p > & ndash; And you are kt & oacute; razu ? & ndash; She asked without the garden & oacute; & ndash; Because a week ago was the one from Opole, and two weeks earlier some from Wrocław …

< p > I thought I could hear badly. I froze.

< p > I started looking. I looked into the drawer, in the bedside table. There were photos & mdash; Not only mine. Netops. I don't use perfumes that I don't use. Calendar with recorded names on specific dates. And suddenly everything became clear. < p > Marek played. He played the role of an ideal widower, romantic and victims of loneliness. And really … he was a hunter. Female hearts. Maybe even something more.

< p > When I confronted him, he just shrugged.

< p > & ndash; I did not promise you anything exclusive & ndash; He said coldly. & ndash; Life is kr & oacute; Everyone takes it, which can. < p > A I & Hellip; Wr & oacute; I was home with a void greater than before. Because I believed. Because I opened my heart. Because I allowed myself to feel that I was important. < p > Now I put on a mask of indifference every day. I smile at my neighbors, water the flowers. But inside I know that I will never trust anyone as then. < p > because this time is too much — broke me.