Cool stories about love. Love stories. Three short love stories

Love story- this is an event or story of a love event from the life of lovers, which introduces us to the spiritual passions that flared up in the hearts loving friend people's friend.

Happiness, which is somewhere very close

I was walking along the pavement. She held high-heeled shoes in her hands because the heels were falling into the dimples. What sunshine it was! I smiled at him because it shone straight into my heart. There was a bright premonition of something. When it began to worsen, the bridge ended. And here - mysticism! The bridge ended and it started to rain. Moreover, very unexpectedly and sharply. After all, there wasn’t even a cloud in the sky!

Interesting…. Where did the rain come from? I didn’t take an umbrella or a raincoat. I really didn’t want to get wet to the threads, since the dress I was wearing was very expensive. And as soon as I thought about it, it became clear to me that luck exists! A red car (very nice) stopped next to me. The guy who was driving opened the window and invited me to quickly dive into the interior of his car. If the weather had been good, I would have thought, showed off, of course I would have been afraid... And since the rain got heavier, I didn’t even think for a long time. Literally flew into the seat (near the driver's). I was dripping like I had just stepped out of the shower. I said hello, shivering from the cold. The boy threw a jacket over my shoulders. It became easier, but I felt the temperature rising. I was silent because I didn’t want to talk. The only thing I was looking forward to was warming up and changing clothes. Alexey (my savior) seemed to guess my thoughts!

He invited me to his place. I agreed because I forgot my keys at home and my parents went to the dacha for the whole day. Somehow I didn’t want to go to my girlfriends: they were like their boyfriends. And they will start laughing when they see what happened to my expensive outfit. I was not afraid of this unfamiliar Leshka - I liked him. I wanted us to at least be friends. We came to him. I stayed with him - Live! We fell in love with each other like teenagers! Can you imagine... As soon as we saw each other, we fell in love. As soon as I came to visit, we started living together. The most beautiful thing in this whole story was our triplets! Yes, we have such “unusual” children, our “luck”! And everything is just beginning...

A story about instant love and a quick proposal

We met in a regular cafe. Trivial, nothing extraordinary. Then everything was more interesting and much…. The “interest” began, it would seem..., with little things. He began to look after me beautifully. He took me to cinemas, restaurants, parks, and zoos. I once hinted that I adore attractions. He took me to a park where there were many attractions. He told me to choose what I wanted to ride. I chose something reminiscent of “Super 8” because I like it when there is a lot of extremeness. I persuaded him to join me. She persuaded me, but he did not agree immediately. He admitted that he was afraid, that he only rode these as a child, that’s all. And even then I cried a lot (from fear). And as an adult, I didn’t even skate because I had seen enough of all sorts of news that showed how people got stuck at heights, how they died on such unfortunate “swings.” But, for the sake of my beloved, he forgets for a moment about all his fears. But I didn’t even know that I wasn’t the only reason for his heroism!

Now I’ll tell you what the culmination actually was. When we found ourselves at the very, very top of the attraction... He put a ring on my finger, smiled, quickly shouted for me to marry him, and we rushed down. I don’t know how he managed to do all this in a hundredth of a second! But it was incredibly pleasant. My head was spinning. But it’s unclear why. Either because of a wonderful time, or because of a great offer. It was both very pleasant. I received all this pleasure in one day, in one moment! I can’t even believe this, to be completely honest. The next day we went to submit an application to the registry office. The wedding day was set. And I began to get used to the planned future, which would make me the happiest. Our wedding, by the way, is at the end of the year, in winter. I wanted it in winter, not summer, to avoid banality. After all, everyone rushes to the registry office in the summer! In the spring, as a last resort...

A beautiful story about Love from the life of lovers

I went to visit my relatives by train. I decided to take a ticket for a reserved seat so that the journey would not be so scary. And then, you never know... There are a lot of bad people. I reached the border successfully. They dropped me off at the border because something was wrong with my passport. I poured water on it and the font smeared on the name. They decided that the document was forged. There is no use arguing, of course. That’s why I didn’t waste time arguing. I had nowhere to go, but it was a shame. Because I started to really hate myself. Yeah…. With my negligence... It's all her own fault! So I walked for a long, long time along the railway road. She walked, but didn’t know where. The main thing was that I walked, fatigue knocked me down. And I thought it would hit me... But I walked another fifty steps and heard a guitar. Now I was already answering the guitar’s call. It's good that my hearing is good. It's arrived! The guitarist wasn't that far away. I still had to go through the same amount of time. I love the guitar, so I no longer felt tired. The boy (with a guitar) was sitting on a large stone, not far from railway. I sat down next to him. He pretended not to notice me at all. I played along with him and just enjoyed the music flying from the guitar strings. He played excellently, but I was very surprised that he did not sing anything. I’m used to the fact that if they play such a musical instrument, they also sing something romantic.

When the stranger stopped playing amazingly, he looked at me, smiled, and asked where I came from here. I noticed the heavy bags that I could barely drag to the “random” stone.

Then he said that he was playing so that I would come. He beckoned to me with his guitar, as if he knew it was me who would come. In any case, he played and thought about his beloved. Then he put the guitar aside, put my bags on my back, picked me up in his arms, and carried me. I only found out where later. He took me to his country house, which was nearby. And he left the guitar on the stone. He said that he doesn’t need her anymore..... I’ve been with this wonderful man for almost eight years. We still remember our unusual acquaintance. I remember even more that guitar, left on the stone, which turned our love story into a magical one, like a fairy tale...

Continuation. . .

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Irina Lobusova
Kama Sutra. Short stories about love (collection)

It was like this

Almost every day we meet on the landing of the main staircase. She smokes in the company of her friends, and Natasha and I are looking for the women's restroom - or vice versa. She is similar to me - maybe because we both completely lose the ability to navigate the huge and endless (as it seems to us every day) space of the institute. The long, tangled bodies of which seem to be specially created to put pressure on the brain. Usually by the end of the day I start to go wild and demand to immediately hand over the monkey who built this building. Natasha laughs and asks why I am sure that this architectural monkey is still alive. However, endless wandering in search of the right audience or women's toilet is entertainment. There are so few of them in our lives - simple entertainment. We both appreciate them, I recognize everything in their eyes. When at the most unexpected moment We bump into each other on the stairs and tell each other that our meeting is completely unexpected. We both just know how to lie classically. Me. And she.

We usually meet on the stairs. Then we look away and do important view. She explains sedately how she just left the audience. I am walking along the corridor nearby. No one admits, even under the guise of a terrible death penalty, that in fact we are standing here and waiting for each other. No one except us is given (and will not be given) to know about this.

Both very amicably pretend that they are incredibly happy to see each other. From the outside, everything looks so easy to believe.

– It’s so nice to meet friends!

– Oh, I didn’t even know that you would be passing through here... But I’m so glad!

– What do you have to smoke?

She holds out cigarettes, my friend Natasha brazenly grabs two at once and in complete female solidarity the three of us smoke silently until the bell rings for the next pair.

– Would you give me your notes on economic theory for a couple of days? We have a test in a couple of days... And you already passed the test ahead of schedule... (she)

- No problem. Call, come in and take... (me).

Then we go to lectures. She is studying in the same course as me, just in a different stream.

The auditorium is damp from the morning light, and the desk is still damp from the wet rag of the cleaning lady. In the back people are discussing yesterday's television series. After a few minutes, everyone dives into the depths of higher mathematics. Everyone but me. During the break, without taking my eyes off my notes, I sit at the table, trying to at least see what is written on the open table in front of me. paper sheet. Someone slowly and quietly approaches my table. And without looking up, I know who I will see. Who is standing behind me... She.

She enters sideways, as if embarrassed by strangers. He sits down next to you and looks devotedly into his eyes. We are the closest and best friends, and from a long time ago. The deep essence of our relationship cannot be expressed in words. We're just waiting for one man. We both wait, without success, for another year. We are rivals, but not a single person in the world would think of calling us that. Our faces are the same because they are marked with the indelible stamp of love and anxiety. For one person. We probably both love him. Maybe he loves us too, but for the safety of our common souls, it’s easier to convince ourselves that he really doesn’t care about us.

How much time has passed since then? Six months, a year, two years? Since that time, when was there one, the most ordinary phone call?

Who called? I can’t even remember the name now... Someone from a neighboring course... or from a group...

"- Hello. Come right now. Everyone has gathered here... there's a surprise!

- What a surprise?! It's raining outside! Speak clearly!

– How about your English?

– Have you gone crazy?

– Listen, we have Americans sitting here. Two came on exchange to the Faculty of Romance-Germanic Philology.

- Why are they sitting with us?

– They are not interested there, besides, they met Vitalik and he brought them to our dorm. They are funny. They hardly speak Russian. She (named the name) fell for one. She sits next to him all the time. Come. You should look at this! “

The rain that hit my face... When I returned home, there were three of us. Three. This has been the case ever since.

I turn my head and look at her face - the face of a man who, faithfully laying his head on my shoulder, looks through the eyes of a pitiful beaten dog. She definitely loves him more than me. She loves so much that it is a holiday for her to hear at least one word. Even if this word of his is intended for me. From the point of view of damaged pride, I look at her very closely and competently note that today she has her hair done poorly, this lipstick does not suit her, and there is a loop on her tights. She probably sees the bruises under my eyes, unmanicured nails and tired appearance. I have known for a long time that my breasts are more beautiful and larger than hers, my height is taller and my eyes are brighter. But her legs and waist are more slender than mine. Our mutual inspection is almost unnoticeable - it is a habit ingrained in the subconscious. After this, we mutually look for oddities in behavior that indicate that one of us has recently seen him.

“Yesterday I watched international news until two o’clock in the morning...” her voice trails off and becomes hoarse. “They probably won’t be able to come this year... I heard there’s a crisis in the States...”

“And even if they come, despite their shaky economy,” I pick up, “they are unlikely to come to us.”

Her face falls, I see that I hurt her. But I can’t stop anymore.

- And in general, I have long forgotten about all this nonsense. Even if he comes again, you still won’t understand him. As last time.

– But you will help me with the translation...

- Hardly. I forgot English a long time ago. Exams are coming soon, the session is coming, we need to study Russian... the future belongs to the Russian language... and they also say that Germans will soon come to the Russian Geographical Fund for exchange. Would you like to sit down with a dictionary and go look at them?

After her, he turned to me - it was normal, I had long been accustomed to such a reaction, but I did not know that his ordinary masculine actions could cause her such pain. He still writes me letters - thin pieces of paper printed on a laser printer... I keep them in an old notebook so as not to show them to anyone. She does not know about the existence of these letters. All her ideas about life are the hope that he will forget me too. I guess that every morning she opens a map of the world and looks at the ocean with hope. She loves the ocean almost as much as he loves him. For her, the ocean is a bottomless abyss in which thoughts and feelings drown. I do not dissuade her from this illusion. Let him live as easily as possible. Our history is primitive to the point of stupidity. So ridiculous that it’s embarrassing to even talk about it. Those around us are firmly convinced that, having met at the institute, we simply became friends. Two closest friends. Who always have something to talk about... It's true. We are friends. We are interested together, there are always common topics and we also understand each other perfectly. I like her - as a person, as a person, as a friend. She likes me too. She has character traits that I don't have. We feel good together. It’s so good that no one is needed in this world. Even, probably, the ocean.

In our “personal” life, which is open to everyone, each of us has a separate man. She is a biology student from the university. Mine is a computer artist, a rather funny guy. With a valuable quality - the inability to ask questions. Our men help us survive the uncertainty and melancholy, and also the thought that he will not return. That our American romance will never truly connect us to him. But for this love, we secretly promise each other to always show concern - concern not about ourselves, but about him. She doesn’t realize, I understand how funny and absurd we are, clinging to cracked, torn straws in order to float to the surface and drown out some strange pain. Pain similar to a toothache, occurring at the most inopportune moment in the most inopportune place. Is the pain about yourself? Or about him?

Sometimes I read hatred in her eyes. As if by silent agreement, we hate everything that exists around us. An institute that you entered just for the sake of a diploma, friends who don’t care about you, society and our existence, and most importantly, the abyss that forever separates us from him. And when we are tired to the point of madness from eternal lies and poorly hidden indifference, from the whirlwind of meaningless but many events, from the stupidity of other people’s love stories - we meet her eyes and see sincerity, real, truthful sincerity, which is purer and better... We never talk about the topic of a love triangle because we both understand perfectly well that behind this there is always something more complex than the dilemma of ordinary unrequited love...

And one more thing: we think about him very often. We remember, experiencing different feelings - melancholy, love, hatred, something nasty and disgusting, or vice versa, light and fluffy... And after a stream of general phrases, someone suddenly stops mid-sentence and asks:

- Well?

And the other one shakes her head negatively:

- Nothing new…

And, having met his eyes, he will understand the silent sentence - there will be nothing new, nothing... Never.

At home, alone with myself, when no one sees me, I go crazy from the abyss into which I fall lower and lower. I desperately want to grab a pen and write in English: “leave me alone... don’t call... don’t write...” But I can’t, I’m not capable of doing this, and therefore I suffer from nightmares, from which my other half only becomes chronic insomnia. Our jealous sharing of love is a terrible nightmare in my dreams at night... Like a Swedish family or Muslim laws on polygamy... In my nightmares, I even imagine how we both marry him and run the same kitchen... Me and her. I shudder in my sleep. I wake up in a cold sweat and am tormented by the temptation to say that from mutual friends I learned about his death in a car accident... Or that another plane crashed somewhere... I invent hundreds of ways, I know that I cannot do it. I can't hate her. Just like she did me.

One day, on a difficult day, when my nerves were shaken to the limit, I pressed her against the stairs:

- What are you doing?! Why are you following me? Why are you continuing this nightmare?! Live your own life! Leave me alone! Don't seek my company, because in reality you hate me!

A strange expression appeared in her eyes:

- It is not true. I can't and don't want to hate you. I love you. And a little bit of it.

Every day for two years we meet on the landing of the stairs. And every meeting we don’t talk, but we think about him. I even catch myself thinking that I’m counting down the clock every day and looking forward to the moment when she quietly, as if shyly, enters the classroom, sits down with me and starts a stupid, endless conversation on general topics. And then, in the middle, he will interrupt the conversation and look at me questioningly... I guiltily look away to the side to shake my head negatively. And I’ll shiver all over, probably from the eternal cold dampness in the morning.

Two days until the new year

The telegram said “don’t come.” The snow scratched his cheeks with hard bristles, trampled under the broken lantern. The edge of the most brazen of all telegrams protruded from his pocket through the fur of his fur coat. The station looked like a huge pheonite ball, molded from dirty plasticine. A door leading into the sky fell brightly and clearly into the void.

Leaning against the cold wall, she studied the railway ticket window, where the crowd was choking, and thought only that she wanted to smoke, she just wanted to smoke like crazy, drawing in bitter frosty air into both nostrils. It was impossible to walk, you just had to stand, watching the crowd, leaning your shoulder against the cold wall, squinting your eyes from the familiar stench. All the stations are similar to one another, like fallen gray stars, floating in the clouds of other people's eyes, a collection of familiar, undeniable miasma. All stations are similar to one another.

Clouds - other people's eyes. This was essentially the most important thing.

The telegram said “don’t come.” This way he didn’t have to look for confirmation of what he was going to do. In a narrow passage, a trampled drunk homeless man fell out from under someone’s feet and fell right under her feet. She crawled extremely carefully along the wall so as not to touch the edge of the long fur coat. Someone pushed me in the back. Turned around. It seemed like she wanted to say something, but she couldn’t say anything, and so, unable to say anything, she froze, forgetting that she wanted to smoke because the thought was fresher. The idea that decisions can gnaw at the brain in the same way that half-smoked (in the snow) cigarettes gnaw. Where there was pain, red, inflamed dots remained, carefully hidden under the skin. She ran her hand, trying to cut off the most inflamed part, but nothing happened, and the red dots ached more and more painfully, more and more, leaving behind anger, similar to a hot broken lantern in the usual pheonite ball.

Sharply pushing part of the wall away from her, she crashed into the line, professionally throwing away all the bag-men with her confident elbows. The impudence caused a friendly opening of the mouths of seasoned ticket resellers. She pressed herself against the window, afraid that again she would not be able to say anything, but she said, and where the breath fell on the glass, the window became wet.

- One to... for today.

- And in general?

- I said no.

A sound wave of voices hit the legs, someone was vigorously tearing at the fur side, and very close by, the disgusting onion stench of someone’s hysterical mouth entered the nostrils - so the indignant masses of the people righteously tried to take her away from the railway ticket window.

– I may have a certified telegram.

- Go through the other window.

- Well, look - one ticket.

“Are you kidding me, damn you...,” said the cashier, “don’t hold up the line... you..., moved away from the cash register!”

The fur coat was no longer torn; the sound wave hitting the legs went to the floor. She pushed the heavy door that went into the sky and went out to where the frost immediately bit into her face with sharpened vampire teeth. Endless night stations floated past my eyes (other people's eyes). They shouted after us - along the taxi stands. Of course, she didn't understand a word. It seemed to her that she had forgotten all languages ​​a long time ago, and around her, through the aquarium walls, before reaching her, human sounds were disappearing, taking the colors existing in the world with them. The walls went all the way to the bottom, not letting in the bygone symphony of color. The telegram said “don’t come, circumstances have changed.” A perfect semblance of tears dried on her eyelashes, not reaching her cheeks in the vampire frost. These tears disappeared without appearing at all and immediately, only inside, under the skin, leaving a dull callous pain, similar to a drained swamp. She took a cigarette and a lighter (in the shape of a colored fish) from her purse and took a deep breath of the smoke, which suddenly stuck in her throat like a heavy and bitter lump. She pulled the smoke into herself until the hand holding the cigarette turned into a wooden stump, and when the transformation took place, the cigarette butt fell down of its own accord, looking like a huge falling star reflected in the velvet black sky. Someone pushed again, Christmas tree needles caught on the edge of her fur coat and fell onto the snow, and once the needles fell, she turned around. Ahead, in the hare's mark, loomed a wide man's back with a Christmas tree attached to his shoulder, which danced a fantastic funny dance on its back. The back walked quickly and went farther and farther with each step, and then only needles remained in the snow. Frozen (afraid to breathe), she looked at them for a very long time, the needles looked like small lights, and when her eyes dazzled from the artificial light, she suddenly saw that the light coming from them was green. It was very quickly, and then - nothing at all, only the pain, suppressed by the speed, returned to its original place. It stung in her eyes, spun in place, her brain shrank, and inside someone said clearly and clearly “two days until the New Year,” and immediately there was no air, there was bitter smoke, hidden deep in her chest as well as in her throat . A number, black as melted snow, floated out and knocked something off my feet, carried me away through the snow, but not in one place, somewhere - from people, to people.

“Wait, you...” from the side, someone’s heavy breathing reeked of a full range of fusel oils. Turning around, I saw fox eyes under a knitted hat.

- How long can I run after you?

Was someone running after her? Nonsense. It has never been like this - in this world. There was everything, except for two poles - life and death, in complete abundance.

– Did you ask for a ticket before...?

- Let's say.

- Yes, I have it.

- How many.

– I’ll pay you for 50 as if you were my own.

- Yes, let's go..

- Well, a measly 50 bucks, I’m giving it to you as if it were my own, so take it...

- Yeah, one for today, even the lowest place.

She held the ticket up to the lantern.

– Yes, that’s right, in kind, no doubt about it.

The guy crunched and held up a 50 dollar bill to the light.

- And the train is at 2 am.

- I know.

- OK.

He melted into space, like people who do not repeat themselves in daylight melt. “Don’t come, circumstances have changed.”

She grinned. The face was a white blur on the floor with a cigarette butt stuck to his eyebrow. It protruded from under sleepy drooping eyelids, and, fitting into the dirty circle, it called far, further and further. Where she was, the sharp corners of the chair pressed on her body. Voices merged in my ears somewhere in a forgotten world behind me. A sleepy web enveloped even the facial curves in a non-existent warmth. She bowed her head down, trying to leave, and her face only became a dirty white spot in the station tiles. That night she was no longer herself. Someone born and someone dead changed in ways that could not be imagined. Without falling anywhere, she turned her face away from the floor, where the station lived a nocturnal life that was not subject to consideration. At about one o'clock in the morning a telephone call was heard in one of the apartments.

- Where are you?

- I'd like to check out.

– You decided.

- He sent a telegram. One.

- Will he at least wait for you? And then, the address...

– I have to go – it’s there, in the telegram.

- Will you come back?

- Come what may.

– What if you wait a couple of days?

- This makes absolutely no sense.

- What if you come to your senses?

- There is no right to another exit.

- There is no need to go to him. No need.

“I can’t hear well—the receiver is hissing, but you speak anyway.”

- What should I say?

- Anything. As you wish.

- Satisfied, right? There is no other such idiot on earth!

– There are two days left until the New Year.

- At least you stayed for the holiday.

- I have been chosen.

- Nobody chose you.

- Doesn't matter.

- Do not leave. There's no need to go there, do you hear?

Short beeps blessed her path and the stars turned black through the glass of the telephone booth inside the sky. She thought that she was gone, but she was scared to think about it for a long time.

The train crawled slowly. The carriage windows were dimly lit, the light bulb in the reserved seat aisle was dimly lit. Leaning the back of her head against the plastic of the train partition that reflected the ice, she waited for everything to go away and the darkness outside the window to be washed away by those tears that, without appearing in the eyes, do not dry. The glass, which had not been washed for a long time, began to tremble with a small, painful tremor. The back of my head hurt from plastic ice. Somewhere inside, a small, chilly animal was whining. “I don’t want...” somewhere inside a small, tired, sick animal cried. “I don’t want to go anywhere, I don’t want to, Lord, do you hear...”

The glass shattered with small painful tremors in time with the train. “I don’t want to leave... I cried little beast, - nowhere at all... I don’t want to go anywhere... I want to go home... I want to go home to my mother...”

The telegram said “don’t come.” This meant that staying was not an option. It seemed to her that, together with the train, she was rolling down the slimy walls of the frozen ravine, with melted snowflakes on her cheeks and Christmas tree needles on the snow, down to the most hopeless bottom, where the frozen windows of the former rooms glow with electricity in such a homely way and where the false ones dissolve in the warmth. words that there are windows on earth, to which, having abandoned everything, you can still return... she was trembling, her teeth knocked out tremors where the fast train wheezed in agony. Cringing, she thought about the Christmas tree needles stuck in the snow, and that the telegram said “don’t come,” and that there were two days left until the New Year and that one day (it warmed with a painful artificial warmth) the day would come when she would no longer need to go anywhere drive. Like an old sick beast, the train howled along the rails that happiness is the simplest thing on earth. Happiness is when there is no road.

Red flower

She hugged herself by the shoulders, enjoying the perfect velvety skin. Then she slowly smoothed her hair with her hand. Cold water- miracle. The eyelids became the same, without retaining a single trace of what... That she cried all night the night before. Everything was washed away by the water, and we could safely move forward. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror: “I am beautiful!” Then she waved her hand indifferently.

She walked through the corridor and found herself where she was supposed to be. She took a glass of champagne from the tray, not forgetting to give a sparkling smile to either the waiter or those around her. The champagne seemed disgusting to her, and a terrible bitterness immediately froze on her bitten lips. But none of those present who filled the large hall would have guessed this. She really liked herself from the outside: a lovely woman in expensive evening dress drinks exquisite champagne, enjoying every sip.

Of course he was there all the time. He reigned, surrounded by his servile subjects, in the heart of the great banquet hall. A socialite, with an easy charm, he strictly follows his crowd. Has everyone come - those who should come? Are everyone enchanted - those who should be enchanted? Is everyone scared and depressed - those who should be scared and depressed? A proud look from under slightly knitted eyebrows said that was all. He was half-sitting in the center of the table, surrounded by people, and, first of all, beautiful women. Most people who met him for the first time were fascinated by his simple-minded, attractive appearance, his simplicity and ostentatious good nature. He seemed to them an ideal - an oligarch who kept it so simple! Almost like a common person like your own. But only those who came into contact with him closer or those who dared to ask him for money knew how, from under the outer softness, a formidable lion’s paw protruded, capable of tearing apart the culprit with a slight movement of a formidable palm.

She knew all his gestures, his words, movements and habits. She kept every wrinkle in her heart like a treasure. The years brought him money and confidence in the future, he greeted them proudly, like an ocean flagship. There were too many other people in his life to notice. Occasionally he noticed her new wrinkles or folds on her body.

- Darling, you can’t do that! You need to take care of yourself! Look in the mirror! With my money... I heard a new one has opened beauty salon

-Who did you hear it from?

He was not embarrassed:

– Yes, a new one has opened and it’s very good! Go there. Otherwise, you will soon look like you are forty-five! And I won't even be able to go out with you.

He wasn't shy about showing off his knowledge of cosmetics or fashion. On the contrary, he emphasized: “You see how the youth loves me!” He was always surrounded by these same “enlightened” golden youth. On either side of him sat the two most recent title holders. One is Miss City, the other is Miss Charm, the third is the face of a modeling agency that dragged its charges to any presentation where there might be at least one earning more than 100 thousand dollars a year. The fourth was new - she had not seen her before, but she was just as evil, mean and impudent as everyone else. Perhaps this one had even more impudence, and she noted to herself that this one would go far. That girl sat half-sitting in front of him right on the banquet table, coquettishly placing her hand on his shoulder, and burst into loud laughter in response to his words, with her whole appearance expressing a greedy predatory grip under the mask of naive carelessness. Women always occupied first places in his circle. The men crowded behind.

Squeezing the glass in her hand, she seemed to be reading her thoughts on the surface of the golden drink. Flattering, ingratiating smiles accompanied her around her - after all, she was a wife. She had been his wife for a long time, so long that he always emphasized this, which meant that she also had the main role.

Cold water is a miracle. She no longer felt her swollen eyelids. Someone touched her with his elbow:

- Ah. Expensive! – it was an acquaintance, the minister’s wife, – you look great! You are a wonderful couple, I always envy you! It’s so great to live for more than 20 years and maintain such ease in relationships! Always look at each other. Ah, wonderful!

Looking up from her annoying chatter, she really caught his gaze. He looked at her and it was like bubbles in champagne. She smiled her most charming smile, thinking that he deserved a chance…. He did not get up when she approached, and the girls did not even think of leaving when she appeared.

-Are you having fun, dear?

- Yes darling. Everything is fine?

- Wonderful! And you?

– I’m very happy for you, dear.

Their dialogue did not go unnoticed. People around thought “what a lovely couple!” And the journalists present at the banquet noted to themselves that they should mention in the article that the oligarch has such a wonderful wife.

- Dear, will you allow me to say a few words?

Taking her by the arm, he led her away from the table.

-Have you finally calmed down?

- What do you think?

“I think it’s bad to worry at your age!”

- Let me remind you that I am the same age as you!

– It’s different for men!

- Is that so?

- Let's not start over! I'm already tired of your stupid invention that I had to give you flowers today! I have so much to do, I’m spinning like a squirrel in a wheel! You should have thought about this! There was no need to cling to me with all sorts of nonsense! If you want flowers, go buy it for yourself, order it, or even buy a whole store, just leave me alone – that’s all!

She smiled her most charming smile:

- I don’t even remember anymore, dear!

- Is it true? - he was delighted, - and I was so angry when you clung to me with these flowers! I have so much to do, and you come up with all sorts of nonsense!

“It was a little feminine whim.”

- Darling, remember: little feminine whims are only permissible for the young. beautiful girls like those sitting next to me! But it only irritates you!

- I will remember, my love. Don't be angry, don't be nervous about such trifles!

- It’s very good that you are so smart! I'm lucky with my wife! Listen, darling, we won’t be going back together. The driver will pick you up when you're tired. And I’ll go by myself, in my car, I have some things to do…. And don’t wait for me today, I won’t come to spend the night. I'll only be there for lunch tomorrow. And even then, maybe I’ll have lunch at the office and not return home.

- Will I go alone? Today?!

- Lord, what is it today?! Why are you getting on my nerves all day?

- Yes, I take up so little space in your life...

- What does this have to do with it! You take up a lot of space, you are my wife! And I carry you with me everywhere! So don't start!

- Fine, I will not. I did not want.

- That's good! There is nothing left for you to want!

And, grinning, he returned back, where too many - much more important - were waiting impatiently. From his point of view, more special than his wife. She smiled. Her smile was beautiful. It was an expression of happiness - enormous happiness that could not be contained! Returning to the toilet room again and locking the doors tightly behind her, she took out a small mobile phone.

- I confirm. After half an hour.

In the hall, she again lavished smiles - demonstrating (and she did not need to demonstrate, that’s how she felt) a huge surge of happiness. These were the happiest moments - moments of anticipation... So, beaming, she slipped into the narrow corridor near the service entrance, from where the exit was clearly visible, and clung to the window. Half an hour later, familiar figures appeared in the narrow doors. It was her husband's two guards, and her husband. Her husband hugging the new girl. And the kisser is on the go. Everyone hurried to the shiny black Mercedes, the husband’s latest acquisition, which cost 797 thousand dollars. He loved expensive cars. Loved it very much.

The doors swung open and the dark interior of the car swallowed them completely. The guards remained outside. One was saying something on the radio - probably warning those at the entrance that the car was already coming.

The explosion sounded with deafening force, destroying the hotel's illumination, trees and glass. Everything was mixed up: screams, roar, ringing. Fiery tongues of flame that shot up to the very sky licked the mangled body of the Mercedes, turned into a huge funeral pyre.

She hugged herself by the shoulders and automatically smoothed her hair, enjoying the inner voice: “I gave you the most beautiful red flower! Happy wedding day, dear."

A beautiful love story is the most common plot for films and books. And not in vain, because the twists and turns of love are interesting to everyone. There is not a single person on the planet who has not experienced sincere affection at least once, who has not felt a storm in his chest. That is why we suggest you read true stories about love: people themselves shared these stories on the Internet. Honest and very touching, you will like it!

Story 1.

My parents divorced a year and a half ago. My father moved away from us and I live with my mother. After the divorce, my mother did not date anyone. She was constantly at work to forget about dad. And then about 3 months ago I began to notice that my mother seemed to have someone. She became more cheerful, dresses better, lingers somewhere, comes with flowers, etc. I had mixed feelings, but then one day I came home from university a little earlier than usual and saw my father walking around the house in trukhans and carrying coffee. to my mother in bed. They are together again!

Story 2.

When I was 16 years old, I met a guy. It was a real first love, mine and his. The purest and most sincere feelings. I had a great relationship with his family, but my mom didn't like him. At all. And she started fighting: locked me in the room, locked the phone, met me from school. This lasted 3 months. My beloved and I gave up, and everyone went their own way. After 3 years, I quarreled with my mother and left home. Happy that she would no longer be able to decide everything for me, I came to him to tell him about it. But he greeted me rather coldly, and I left, choking on tears. Many years later. I got married and gave birth to a child. My child’s godfather was that guy’s friend, my former classmate. And then one day his wife told me the love story of their friend, the story of our love, without even knowing that I was that same girl. His life didn’t work out either, he was married many times, but there was no happiness. He only loved me. And that day when I came to his house, I was simply confused and did not know what to say. I recently found him on social networks, but he had not visited his page for many years. At the age of 16, my daughter met a guy and has been dating him for a year and a half. But I won’t make my mom’s mistake, even though I don’t like him. At all…

Story 3.

3 years ago my kidney failed. There are no relatives or relatives. Out of grief, I got drunk in a nearby bar and burst into tears, I had nothing to lose. A 27-year-old man sat down next to me and asked what happened. Word for word, I told her about the grief, we met, exchanged numbers, but I never called. I went to the hospital, and who was my surgeon? That's right, the same one. Helped me recover after surgery, we are planning a wedding.

History 4.

I'm a perfectionist. We recently recalled how I once stood in line at the post office and there was a guy in front of me. So, the zipper on his backpack was not fully zipped. I tried to restrain myself, but in the end I boldly took a step forward and buttoned it all the way. The guy turned around and looked at me indignantly. By the way, we remembered this together with him, celebrating 4 years of relationship. Do what you want - maybe it's destiny...

History 5.

I work in a flower shop. Today a buyer came and bought 101 roses for his wife. When I was packing, he said: “My girl will be happy.” This buyer is 76 years old, met his wife at 14, and has been married for 55 years. After such incidents, I begin to believe in love.

History 6.

I work as a waitress. My ex came, with whom I'm in good relations, and asked to reserve a table for the evening. He said that he wanted to propose to the girl of his dreams. Okay, we've done everything. He came in the evening, sat down at the table, asked for wine, two glasses. I brought it, was about to leave, he asked me to sit down for a couple of minutes to talk. I sat down and he got down on his knee, took out a ring and proposed to me! TO ME! Do you understand? I was in tears, my face was still in shock, but I sat down to him, kissed him and said “yes.” And he told me that he always loved me, and we parted in vain. And this will cement our relationship forever! God, I'm happy!

History 7.

Nobody believes me, but the stars sent me my husband. I'm not beautiful, I am excess weight, and the boys didn’t spoil me with attention, but I really wanted love and relationships. I was 19, I was lying on the beach at night, looking at the sky and feeling sad. When the first star fell, I wished for love. Then the second one, which I wished to meet her that same night, and decided that if the third one fell, it would definitely come true... And yes, she fell, literally right away. That same night he wrote to me by mistake social network My future husband.

History 8.

When I was 17, I had my first love, but my parents didn’t approve. It’s summer, the nights are warm, he came under my windows (1st floor) at 4 o’clock in the morning to call me to watch the dawn! And I escaped through the window, although I have always been a home girl. We walked, kissed, talked about everything and nothing, we were free as the wind and happy! He returned me home at 7 am, when my parents were just getting up for work. No one noticed my absence, and this was the most adventurous and romantic thing I have ever done in my life.

Story 9.

I was walking my dog ​​in the courtyard of high-rise buildings and saw one Old man I walked around and asked everyone about the woman. He knew her last name, place of work, about her dog. Everyone brushed it off, and no one wanted to remember this certain woman, but he walked around and asked and asked. It turned out that this was his first love, he arrived many years later in his hometown and the first thing he did was go to find out if she lived in the house where he first saw her and fell in love. At the end, a couple of guys about 14 years old called this woman. You should have seen their look when they met! Love doesn't just disappear!

History 10.

My first love was crazy. We loved each other madly. On August 22, we “got married” by exchanging silver rings on the roof of an abandoned construction site. Now we have not been together for a long time, but every year on August 22, without saying a word, we come to this construction site and just talk. That time was the best of my life.

Story 11.

Lost it a year ago wedding ring, I was very upset, but my husband and I couldn’t afford to buy another one. Yesterday I came home after work, there was a small box on the table, in it a new ring and a note “You deserve the best.” It turned out that my husband sold his grandfather's watch to buy me this ring. And today I sold my grandmother’s earrings and bought him a new watch.

Story 12.

My first love and I have been together since we were in diapers. And we had a code in which each letter was replaced by a serial number in the alphabet. For example, “I love you”: 33. 20. 6. 2. 33. 13. 32. 2. 13. 32, etc. But in the end, already in adulthood, life took us to different shores, and we almost stopped communicate. She recently moved to my city for work, and we decided to meet. We walked for several hours and then went home. And closer to night I received a text message from her: “Let's try again.” And at the end those same numbers.

Story 13.

My boyfriend and I had our anniversary a week ago, but we live in different cities. I decided to surprise him and come on this day to spend it together. I bought a ticket, went to the station, I’m late. I run without looking back to my carriage... Phew, I made it. The train starts moving, I sit, look out the window and who do I see? Yeah, my boyfriend with a bouquet of flowers. It turned out that he decided to give me the same surprise.

Story 14.

And my beloved and I got along thanks to our crazy sense of humor. Once, when he was still just my neighbor, I asked him to look at a non-working outlet. This joker, having touched the socket, began to simulate an electric shock - twitching and screaming. When I was ready to push him away from the socket in a panic with the baseboard I had just torn off, he sank to the floor with a lifeless look, and then jumped up shouting: “Ahaaa.” And I... What am I? I grabbed my heart and very naturally pretended to have a heart attack. As a result, they laughed all evening, drunk each other with cognac and never parted.

Beginning of autumn. The tops of the trees are covered with a light gilding, and lonely yellowed leaves are falling. The grass has dried up and turned yellow over the summer from the hot rays of the sun. Early morning.

Sergei Mikhailovich walked leisurely along the path of the square, heading to the tram stop. He hadn’t used public transport for a long time, he used his car to get to work, and then... he took the car to a car repair shop for a preventive inspection for three days, and this happened on weekdays.

"Birthday today ex-wife, I should congratulate him, drop by after work and bring a bouquet of chrysanthemums, she loves them very much,” he caught himself thinking that the “ex” thought about his wife, although she left him two months ago. During this time he did not see her, only heard a voice on the telephone receiver. It’s interesting to see what she looks like: has she looked younger? Or maybe she’ll come back to their spacious apartment, bake pancakes again in the morning and brew her signature coffee?

They lived for more than thirty years, or more precisely, thirty-three. And then, out of the blue, so it seemed to him, the woman he loved announced that she was going to live in another apartment, away from him... They rented out a small apartment. Previously, it was intended for the youngest son, he went to another city to study, then stayed there and got married. The eldest son had long lived with his family in a spacious cottage on the outskirts of the city, raising three children.

“I’m tired of your “whining”, tired of serving and taking care of you, listening to your dissatisfaction. At least in my old age I want to live for myself, in peace,” said the wife, collecting her things.

Having recently retired, Galina did not sit at home, started an online business, signed up for a fitness center, and began to pay more attention to her appearance and health.

“That’s it, now I’m a free person and I want to live the rest of my years for myself. I gave many years to the children, to you - to your whims, washing, cleaning and your other whims. Helped raise grandchildren. Now I have a pension, I have additional income, and I do not depend on you financially, and your prohibitions do not concern me. Wherever I want, that’s where I go on vacation; wherever I want, that’s where I go on Sunday. “I’m leaving,” the wife said loudly, slamming the door, leaving her husband perplexed.

The right tram arrived. Sergei Mikhailovich squeezed inside. Early morning, townspeople are rushing to work. He has to walk four stops to his office - a large transport company, where he has worked as a safety engineer for many years.

The pungent smell of women's perfume filled his nose.

“Man, don’t snuggle close to me,” the young woman said, turning around and looking into his eyes, she smiled sweetly.

- Sorry.

“Don’t forget to drop by Galina’s with flowers in the evening, maybe she’s already had enough of freedom and will return home.” In the morning he called her and congratulated her on her birthday. The wife listened silently and hung up.

“Man, you are stuck to me,” said the same woman.

- Sorry. There are a lot of people.

“Then I will turn to face you,” the stranger said in a pleasant voice, turned to face Sergei and began to look into his eyes.

He began to examine the young woman: she looked about thirty to thirty-five years old, had a good figure, a beige cap hid her bright red hair. plump lips attracted the eye.

“A pleasant face, and the eyes glow with happiness. The pungent smell of perfume, I could have applied less of it to myself,” thought Sergei Mikhailovich.

- My stop. “I’m going out,” he said quietly.

The woman took a step to the side, letting him pass forward:

“And I still have two more stops to go,” she said casually.

At the end of the working day, Sergei Mikhailovich called a taxi: “Go to a flower shop, buy a bouquet of flowers and visit your wife to congratulate her on her birthday,” thought the abandoned husband.

Here he is already standing near the front door of the apartment with a bouquet of large yellow chrysanthemums.

Doorbell.

The man entered quietly. Silence.

- Well, who is there? Go into the room. I'm here.

Sergei entered. There was a large open suitcase in the middle of the room. Galina, dressed in new sports suit, fussed around him - putting things away.

Good evening! Here, I came to congratulate you.

- Well, you called in the morning? – the wife said without looking back at him. - There was no need to worry. And how did you remember this? When we lived together, I rarely remembered, I kept waiting for my reminder. Oh, yellow chrysanthemums? Have you forgotten that I love them? – Looking at the bouquet, the woman was surprised.

- Where are you going? Where are the guests? Not celebrating your birthday?

- Tomorrow we will celebrate. I'm flying to Montenegro for a month. I'll live in Europe. They're waiting for me there. I have a plane soon.

-Where are you going? What about me, my children, my grandchildren?

- And you? The children are adults, the grandchildren have parents. The children congratulated me on the phone; they know that I am leaving for a month.

“I thought you would come home.” I thought you were bored...

“I said that I would never live with you under any circumstances.” Enough - I was your servant for thirty years and carried out all your orders. Place flowers in a vase. Why are you standing? Go to the kitchen yourself, pour water into a vase and set it down. I’m used to having a nanny look after you... How’s the apartment? There’s probably dirt all around, you’re not fit for anything - in order to drive a nail into a wall or repair a faucet, I had to “saw” you for several days, and then do it myself.

-What orders are you saying? We lived happily in love for many years. Come back, I love you and miss you. The apartment is empty without you.

- But not me. I’m free now, you don’t need to be a servant in the morning, cook food the way you love, invite guests – those you like... Now I run in the park in the mornings and play sports. And everything was just to be your way; my opinion was rarely taken into account.

– I invited the concierge, she comes once a week and cleans the apartment.

- Do you love it? You’re just used to me, and you don’t have enough of a maid... Live as you want. I'm very happy without you.

-Have you got a man? – he asked quietly.

– Why are you needed... whiners and dictators. Nowadays, you men are worse than one-year-old children: capricious, picky and always dissatisfied with everything. I’m happy that I can do what I want, no one tells me, no one tyranns me or asks why you bought this Golden ring, you already have a lot of them?! You don’t have to report to anyone about your expenses and pastime. So love left, about ten years ago. And I was a fool for putting up with you and your selfishness for so many years. Now I just realized how good I am without you!

Help me lower my suitcase, the taxi has arrived.

Second story

Summer. An electric train traveling from a multimillion-dollar city along a given route.

In the half-empty carriage of the electric train, the cheerful laughter of a group of middle-aged women could be heard. Tipsy pensioners talked loudly, joked and laughed, attracting the attention of incoming passengers.

Stop. Several passengers entered the carriage. They immediately noticed the cheerful and noisy company.

- Oh, Lyuska, is that you? – asked one of the women who entered the carriage. “I haven’t seen you for a hundred years.”

- Hello, Lenka. Yes it's me. That's right, we haven't seen each other for fifteen years. We haven’t changed, we’re still just as young and cheerful. “Have a seat in our company,” answered the most cheerful woman from the company.

-What are you celebrating? Everyone is cheerful and happy. Lena, introduce your friends or neighbors?

– These are my friends, we are going to my dacha. There we will continue the holiday and reap the harvest. Lida, Ira, Sonya.

- What's the celebration? – Elena asked again.

This was back in school, I was in 5th grade and then I had 2 boyfriends, and I had to choose between Andrei and Sergei (Andrei is 2 years older, and Sergei is 1) then I did not attach any importance to anyone. You could say I was a fool and blurted out that Andrei was my only one and would be my husband, then Sergei was offended by me and we didn’t talk to him until the 7th grade. (Andrey was even too happy). And so my family decided to transfer me to another school, of course I told Andrey this and he gave the go-ahead and quietly left.

And now it’s 8th grade and the first of September, I’m alone in a completely different school. It was scary. And then I saw the same one that my future husband said in childhood (yes, it was Andrey). He came up and said, how can your husband let you go, and then we kissed for the first time, in front of the whole school. But now the whole school knew that we were a couple? This is how my first year began new school. I found the class to be extremely friendly and sociable. I was with Andrey at every break. We talked, he walked me to class and kissed me on the cheek. And you think everything was so good?!