... and the tears rolled down her face. It happened this morning. So early that the sun could neither witness nor dry them. The cold winter wind caressed her beautiful blonde her, as I watched in owe her angel eyes close and even more tears wet her rosy cheeks.
I had had my share of crying before, on the way to the airport, while softly tracing with the tips of my fingers all the contours of her figure. As much as I tried to hide, she caught me and kissed the tears away, promising me we would not be apart for long.
We were all sad - even her parents. The two weeks I had were enough for me to love the entire family and for the entire family to love me too. So it was no surprise we all were fighting the tears. Alina woke up early to wish me a good flight. The night before, Auntie and uncle came to say goodbye. That morning it was Grandpa. Cousins called. Mom and Dad were very quiet.
Now, hours later, alone in the cold room of Rossia Hotel, I still cry, missing my beautiful Russian Wife. My Baby Girl. My new chance to be happy. Yulia, my Love.
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