Margaret didn’t sit down at the table.
Instead, he stayed for.chfar mngoli a few seconds standing, looking at me.
“You’re right,” he said. And before anything else, I owe you an apology.
What happened in the office?
– Yes. I shouldn’t have kissed you without asking your permission. No matter what I felt at that moment, you are my student and I exceeded a limit.
Her response calmed me down, but she didn’t explain anything to me.
Then why did you call me here?
It has deeply inspired.
Because you look very much like someone.
Then he headed for an old commode in the living room.
He opened the first drawer and released a photo album.
He sat on the table in front of me.
– Open it.
I’ve erected the cover.
The first photos were old, some black and white, others yellowed by time.
Margaret was young in them.
I turned a few pages.
Then I got to a photo taken, after the date written on my back, in 1982.
Margaret was a little over twenty years old.
There was a man next to her.
I was left with my hand on the photo.
Because I knew him.
This is my grandfather.
Margaret closed her eyes.
– Yes.
I got up right away.
Where do you know him?
Mihai Căruntu was my college colleague.
– That’s it?
Don’t answer it.
– Madam teacher?
He sat down.
It was more than that.
She told me that she and my grandfather had met at the University of Bucharest, almost fifty years ago.
They had been together for almost three years.
They loved each other.
And, for a while, they even planned to get married.
But their families had not approved the relationship, and life had led them in different directions. My grandfather was leaving Bucharest. Margaret stayed at the university.
I don’t understand what that has to do with me.
I didn’t understand it at first.
He turned the album on her and took,.chfar mngoli out of two pages a smaller photo.
She was a young woman.
– You recognize her?
I felt my stomach tightens.
It’s Mom.
Margaret nodded.
– Adriana.
Where do you get this photo?
Because I knew her.
Then the situation became really strange.
My mother died when I was fourteen.
I knew very little about her college years and almost nothing about her relationship with my grandfather, who had died before I was born.
