I met him in early autumn. It was a beautiful, sunny day. A light breeze was blowing, and the leaves, just starting to change color, rustled and whispered. I was collecting chestnuts in the park when he walked up to me and handed me a few. Just like that. I looked at him and lost my head immediately — tall, dark-haired, and attractive, he was easy to like. We talked for a moment, and he turned out to be charming and intelligent. He didn’t introduce himself then — that wouldn’t have been his style. He preferred to take things slow, calculated, which I didn’t realize at the time.
From that day on, we kept running into each other — at the park, the library, the store. He would smile, say a few words, and walk away, and I found myself thinking about him more and more. I wondered if he thought about me too. Sometimes I even imagined us as a couple.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” my friend Beata said when I told her about him. “If he’s that attractive, he’s probably taken. Aren’t you still seeing Piotr?”
“It’s not working out with Piotr,” I shrugged. “There’s no chemistry. We’re like siblings. And just because I haven’t seen him with a woman doesn’t mean he’s not single.”
“Exactly,” Beata said with a frown. “You’re being naive. But good luck anyway. I just hope you don’t end up disappointed.”
“I know, I know, I’m a bit of a romantic. But you like me, right?” I smiled.
“Lucky for you I do. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be so nice.”
That day, I got up early. My cat, Filuś, woke me up demanding food, and the cold in the bedroom was unbearable. The first snow had fallen during the night. I was happy to see it outside the window. It looked like a fairy tale — the sidewalk, the bench, the steps, even the window ledge were covered in white. The pine tree near the terrace bent its branches gracefully under the snow’s weight. My neighbor’s pigeons lifted their feet high as they picked at the grain on the porch. I got up, fed the cats, drank my coffee, and went out to the store.
And there, unexpectedly, I saw the mysterious dark-haired man again. He smiled, just like always, and said:
“What are you doing here?”
“Shopping. I’ve always come here — I live nearby. What about you? You’re not from around here, are you?”
“No, just passing through. I stopped to get something to eat,” he said. “Is your house far from here? I’ll carry your groceries — they look heavy. And it’s slippery today. I’m Marek.”
“I’m Ania. I live just around the corner. If you’re going to help, I’ll buy more cat food. It’s heavy — but you look strong enough.”
“Well then, maybe I’ll invite myself in for coffee. What do you say?”
“I’d be happy to make you some. I have cinnamon-flavored — it smells amazing. Perfect for a day like this.”
We left the store, still talking, and walked toward my house. It really was slippery — snow was falling in big, heavy flakes, covering everything around us. The frozen puddles on the sidewalk had turned into little ice rinks. At one point I slipped, and I would’ve fallen hard if he hadn’t caught me. I liked how careful and attentive he was.
Soon we were inside. I invited him into the living room, pointed to the couch near the fireplace, and brought him a steaming cup of coffee. He thanked me and sank into the cushions comfortably. We started talking again, and I lost myself in his brown eyes — they reminded me of the chestnuts he had given me. He gave off a warmth, his voice was soft, and he smiled constantly.
We talked for hours. He turned out to be very interesting, and before he left, we exchanged phone numbers. I felt happy, though full of emotions, doubts, and a million questions racing through my mind.
A few hours later, Piotr called and told me he was breaking up with me. His voice was pained. He didn’t give a reason, just said it had to be this way. I was surprised, but honestly, I felt relieved. I felt free. My mood lifted even more when Marek called shortly after. He invited me to his place. He was planning dinner — skewers, salad, and wine. Of course, I said yes.
The next day, I dressed carefully. I chose a sexy, tight dress, did a light makeup, and used my favorite perfume. I looked good — actually, I looked radiant. Marek came around seven and took me to his home. He lived in a modern villa just outside the city. The building was sleek, and tall spruce trees surrounded the terrace. He invited me into the living room.
It was like stepping into another world — minimalist to the extreme. Glass, metal, and a lot of open space. Everything was black and white. Over the modern fireplace hung a collection of weapons. The room felt cold and uninviting — it didn’t seem to fit him. I loved rustic styles — soft cushions, wood, little trinkets, warm colors, and lots of plants.
The dinner, though, was excellent. The wine went straight to my head. At one point I brought up the weapons.
“Are you a hunter?” I asked. “I don’t like hunting. I can’t stand killing animals. I love them and protect them.”
“But you eat meat,” he replied coldly. “That means you’re part of the killing, too. Anyway, I’m not a hunter. Not anymore. Shooting just doesn’t excite me these days.”
That should have been a red flag. But I ignored it. From then on, we started seeing each other. A week later, we ended up in bed. I expected fireworks, but it was a disaster. He was cold, unfeeling, and extremely dominant. He also had… issues and couldn’t really perform. He kept going for hours, ignoring the fact that I wasn’t satisfied at all. That night, I lay awake, fighting tears.
In the morning, as if nothing had happened, he brought me coffee in bed and said:
“Well, now you know me. No more illusions. You’re mine now. I’ll take care of you — but I expect the same. First, no more makeup, no more mini skirts, and no going out alone. We’ll be living together soon. And the cats — they have to go. I hate cats. And dogs. They stink, they’re messy, and they take too much attention. I want all your time to be mine.”
I was stunned — but I didn’t lose my nerve.
“No way,” I said firmly. “The cats are staying. And we won’t be seeing each other anymore. We’re just not a match.”
“You don’t get it,” he snapped. “I didn’t chase after you for months and scare off that loser boyfriend of yours just to give up now. If you don’t get rid of the cats — I will. I’ve already taken care of a few. I like the smell of their warm blood.”
I got dressed in a hurry and ran out of the house, terrified. Behind me, I could hear his mocking laughter. I couldn’t understand what had happened. How could he change so suddenly? I felt betrayed, dirty, tainted. I was ashamed of how infatuated I’d been. I was afraid of what he might do. Back home, I was shaking.
An hour later, he called.
“Remember, I’m the one who decides when it ends,” he hissed. “If you fight back, you’ll always be alone. I won’t let anyone get close to you. I have my ways.”
“Leave me alone or I’ll go to the police,” I threatened.
“And tell them what?” he sneered. “I didn’t do anything to you — and I won’t. Not to you.”
I hung up and blocked his number. He called dozens of times afterward, but I never answered. Then, the next day, I found a dead cat on my doorstep. Its throat had been slit, and in its wide green eyes was frozen terror. Its white fur was bloodied. It looked like my Filuś. Only God knows what it went through before it died.
I burst into tears and ran inside. I called the police. They came an hour later. I gave my statement through sobs. The officers were kind and understanding. They said they’d go talk to him, but warned me that without witnesses, it would be hard to take legal action.
I don’t know how that conversation went, but Marek disappeared from my life. Still, the image of the dead cat haunted me at night. I was afraid to go outside. Afraid to sleep.
Spring came. Everything turned green. Daffodils and grape hyacinths bloomed near my porch. I tried to forget Marek. It wasn’t easy. What he did left deep scars. I withdrew into myself. I kept looking over my shoulder.
That’s when I met Andrzej. I met him at the library, though I’d seen him before — he lived nearby. He was looking for books on ancient Egypt, which I also found fascinating. He wasn’t stunningly handsome, but he was kind, calm, and intelligent. When he came over for the first time, Filuś jumped into his lap and Kacper curled up next to him. I took it as a good sign.
We met two more times. Then, suddenly, he started avoiding me.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Nothing. It’s better this way,” he mumbled and walked off in a hurry.
Then came Karol. Then Darek. Both seemed promising. Both ended things suspiciously fast. I started to suspect something — but I wasn’t sure.
The fear of loneliness stared me in the face. When I met Janusz, I told him about Marek on our second date. He laughed.
“Oh, I know. Some tough guy tried to threaten me yesterday,” he said. “Didn’t work out for him. I’ve practiced karate since I was a kid. I disarmed him easily. Gave him a few bruises too — seems like he deserved it.”
“Oh my God! I put you in danger!” I gasped. “He’s crazy. Dangerous.”
“Don’t worry. I can handle him — if he tries again. But I doubt he will. He’s a coward when someone stands up to him. Yesterday, he nearly cried. Just to be safe, I called the cops. He’ll be charged with assault. Surprisingly, he confessed.”
Janusz and I are still seeing each other. We even have plans for the future. Marek’s court date is next month. I hope he gets what he deserves. And I hope I never see him again.
I just want to forget.