Christina stopped by the store after work. There were only four days left until New Year’s, and her refrigerator was still empty. There was a catastrophic lack of time. And the Christmas tree stood in the corner, unadorned, as if to remind her of her disorganization.
Outside, a piercing wind blew. After the recent thaw, the wet snow on the sidewalks had frozen into an uneven ice rink. And, as if to add insult to injury, she had chosen to wear heeled boots. Now she had to take small steps, balancing carefully so as not to fall. Not all the streetlights were working, as often happens, and in the early winter dusk it was hard to see the road. Heavy bags weighed down her arms, pressing into her palms. Her legs ached from the strain. “Why did I buy so much? I could have bought half as much tomorrow,” she scolded herself.
Reaching the bus stop, Christina set the bags on a narrow bench. She rubbed her numb, cold fingers that had already lost sensation. Sitting down beside them, she allowed her legs a little rest, tucking her hands into her coat pockets. But the wind, it seemed, was following her even here.
She watched the cars passing by, imagining how nice it would be to sit in a warm cabin right now. The thought of owning her own car had long troubled her, but she hadn’t dared to take out a loan. Now she regretted that caution.
An approaching bus pulled up to the stop. With a hiss, its doors opened, and the passengers, once they got off, dispersed to their homes. No one even glanced in her direction.
Christina was just about to stand up when she suddenly heard a moan. She looked around—there was no one in sight. A moment later, the sound repeated, this time very close by. She sprang up from the bench. The headlights of passing cars illuminated something dark in the corner, behind the bench.
Her first instinct was to run. But the thought that the person might not be found until morning—and in such cold, they would simply freeze, especially if they were drunk—made her pause.
She took out her phone and shone its flashlight deeper into the bus stop. Immediately, a black coat and shiny boots caught her eye—clearly not a homeless person. The beam of the flashlight slid over the man’s face. His eyelashes twitched, but his eyes remained closed. He was young, well-groomed, impeccably dressed. Christina leaned in closer, but she didn’t detect any smell of alcohol.
“Hey, are you alright? Get up, you’ll freeze,” she urged, nudging him on the shoulder.
The man did not react.
Without a second thought, Christina dialed for an ambulance and explained the situation.
“Stay on the line,” responded a tired voice from the dispatcher.
She put away her phone, tucked her hands back into her pockets, and shivered from the cold. She was freezing herself, let alone the man on the ground. Perhaps he should just leave? But who knew when the ambulance would arrive—and maybe he had been robbed…
Her teeth were already chattering when an ambulance pulled up to the stop. Two medics in blue jackets stepped out.
“Over there, in the corner,” Christina pointed.
The medics bent over the man. Another bus arrived at the stop. Two people got off and, intrigued, began to ask Christina questions.
“Step back, don’t interfere!” a doctor snapped.
He returned to the ambulance and brought out a stretcher.
“Help us lift him,” he called out to the onlookers. But they quickly dispersed.
“What’s wrong with him?” Christina asked anxiously.
“It looks like a heart attack. You found him in time, otherwise he’d have frozen. Write down your phone number, just in case,” the doctor said as he pulled a notepad from his pocket and handed it to her.
“Am I not needed anymore? I was freezing while waiting,” she replied, returning the notepad.
Christina watched the ambulance leave, then grabbed her bags and started home. Her legs felt like wood; she could barely feel the ground beneath her feet.
At home, she warmed her hands under hot water for a long time. Then she unpacked the bags. The entire evening, thoughts of the man wouldn’t leave her mind. What had happened to him? How did he end up at the bus stop? She regretted not asking which hospital he had been taken to. She wanted to know how he was.
Two days later, a call came from an unknown number. Outside, snow was falling, covering the earth with a white blanket and making the world seem brighter. She hesitated for a second, but then answered.
“Christina?” a pleasant male voice said over the phone.
“Yes, who is this?”
“It’s me… the one you saved. You called an ambulance when I was lying at the bus stop…”
“You’re alive?” Christina exclaimed with joy. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine. I called to thank you. You left your number.”
“Then you don’t need me anymore? I was freezing while waiting,” she said, returning the notepad.
Christina saw the ambulance driving away with her eyes, grabbed her bags, and went inside. Her legs felt wooden; she could barely feel the ground.
At home, she spent a long time warming her hands under hot water. Then she unpacked the bags. The whole evening, she couldn’t shake the thoughts of the man. What had happened to him? How did he end up at the bus stop? She regretted not asking which hospital he’d been taken to. She longed to know how he was.
Two days later, a call came from an unknown number. Outside, snow was falling, covering the earth with a white blanket and brightening the world. She hesitated for a moment but answered.
“Christina?” a pleasant male voice said over the phone.
“Yes. And who is this?”
“It’s me… the one you saved. You called an ambulance when I was lying at the bus stop…”
“You’re alive?” Christina rejoiced. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m all right. I called to thank you. You left your number.”
“What happened to you?” she asked.
It felt awkward that she hadn’t thought to call the hospital to check on him.
“You can’t explain it over the phone. Maybe I’ll drop by when they discharge me? Tell me your address.”
“Oh, no, that’s not necessary,” Christina stuttered.
The man on the other end of the line fell silent. Christina hesitated too. After all, she didn’t know anything about him… He said goodbye and hung up. Only then did she remember that she hadn’t even asked his name.
Christina had been with a boyfriend for four years, living together for two. But he never proposed. Their relationship had run its course, and they broke up. It took her a year to recover. Now she was afraid of new relationships, afraid of pain and disappointment.
Her friends were in similar situations. Ritka was divorced, and Tanya’s boyfriend had died in a hotspot. They would get together, drink, chat, watch New Year’s concerts, and share their worries and dreams. The three of them made things at least a little easier.
On December 31st, Christina was in no hurry to get out of bed. When she finally started chopping vegetables for salads, there was a knock at the door. Who could it be? Her friends were not expected so early.
Christina opened the door. Standing on the threshold was a tall man with a bouquet of flowers and a bag in his hand.
“Christina?” he asked, smiling. “I came by to thank you.”
“You…?”
“Yes. The doctors persuaded them to let me leave early.”
“How did you get my address?” Christina asked, surprised, having forgotten to invite him inside.
“It’s simple. From your phone number. May I come in?”
“Oh, of course, please do,” she hastily replied.
The man stepped into the hall and handed her a bouquet of roses.
“And one more thing,” he added, handing over a hefty bag.
“Oh, what’s this for?” Christina asked, embarrassed.
Peeking out of the bag were green pineapple leaves and the neck of a champagne bottle wrapped in golden foil. The man himself was incredibly attractive—one could easily picture him on the cover of a movie magazine.
“If it weren’t for you, who knows what would have happened to me,” he said, his gaze fixed on Christina.
“Take off your coat and come in,” she invited, hiding her face behind the bouquet.
The man removed his coat and walked into the kitchen. He looked as if he had stepped right out of a fashion magazine.
“Are you expecting guests?” he asked, noticing the chopped vegetables.
“My friends are coming.”
“What are you preparing?”
Christina shrugged.
“As usual: Olivier salad, French-style meat…” she began to list.
“Let me help. By the way, I haven’t introduced myself. My name is Maxim. I work at the ‘Old Baku’ restaurant. I know a thing or two about cooking. Do you have an apron?”
Christina was surprised but handed him her apron with a small floral print.
Maxim deftly handled the knife, and soon several bowls of elegantly garnished dishes appeared on the table. The meat was marinating in sauce. Together they set a festive table in the living room. Before long, they moved to using informal “you.”
“How did you end up at the bus stop?” Christina asked.
Maxim explained that there had been a New Year’s corporate party at his restaurant. His girlfriend was there. He accidentally saw her kissing another man.
“I couldn’t keep quiet. In short, I made a scene, and they made it clear I wasn’t wanted. I got dressed and left. I got in my car and drove off wherever I could. I was so hurt I almost cried. I thought she loved me… A couple of times my car skidded—I almost had an accident. Then I started feeling unwell, couldn’t catch my breath. I’d never experienced anything like it.
I stopped at the bus stop and got out. I think I sat on the bench. I don’t remember anything after that. I woke up in the hospital. They told me that you saved me, and they gave me your number.”
“And your girlfriend?” Christina asked cautiously.
“I don’t know. She didn’t even come to the hospital. Now it doesn’t matter.”
For some reason, his words cheered Christina.
“Just like in the restaurant. I would never have managed that,” she said, looking around at the set table. “Oh, isn’t it time to cook the meat?”
“Don’t worry, we’ll have it ready. When are the guests coming?” Maxim glanced at his watch.
“Oh, in an hour. I need to change,” Christina said, moving towards the door, then paused midway. “Will you stay and welcome the New Year with us?” she asked, blushing.
“If you’d like. I actually came for that,” Maxim replied with a smile.
Christina spent a long time choosing a dress, twirling in front of the mirror. She wanted to at least somewhat match him. “One must be a complete fool to let a man like that go. One can only dream of such a man. A handsome guy who can cook. My father always helped my mother in the kitchen, and my ex-boyfriend couldn’t even fry an egg in two years.”
A random guest, and yet she was excited as if she were falling in love for the first time. Christina knew that nothing serious would likely come of it. They would just spend New Year’s Eve together—and that was all.
She went out to meet Maxim, trying to appear calm.
He got up from the sofa when he saw her. His gaze was warm and sincere. An awkward pause hung in the air, which was interrupted by the doorbell.
Christina’s friends arrived—Rita and Tanya. They carried a cake and several bags.
“Wow!” exclaimed Rita upon seeing the festive table. “I didn’t know you were so good at cooking!”
“It’s not me,” Christina replied, embarrassed.
At that moment, Maxim stepped out of the kitchen.
“And you were hiding your boyfriend from us?” Rita said without hesitation, eyeing him closely. “Come on, dear!”
Maxim didn’t seem embarrassed, used as he was to female attention. Tanya, though more reserved, also couldn’t hide her interest.
They sat down at the table and raised their glasses. Rita couldn’t stop asking where Christina had found such a man.
“On the street. He was lying at the bus stop, behind the bench,” Christina answered with a smile.
“No way! You’re kidding?” Rita exclaimed in disbelief.
“I felt unwell in the car, so I sat on the bench and, I think, lost consciousness. Christina called an ambulance. She saved me,” Maxim explained as he poured more wine into the glasses.
He himself wasn’t drinking.
“Now I’m going to check under every bench. Maybe I’ll find my own happiness,” declared Rita.
“Sure. You’ll only find a bum there,” Tanya remarked skeptically.
Everyone laughed. Then Maxim, one by one, invited the girls to dance. Christina noticed how tactfully he distanced himself from Rita when she got too close. She wistfully thought that soon the night would end and he would leave.
At around five o’clock, Tanya led a slightly tipsy Rita home. Maxim offered to drive them. Christina struggled to hide her jealousy behind a smile. When they left, she changed, cleared the table, and washed the dishes.
She didn’t feel like sleeping. Thoughts of Maxim kept returning. She was afraid of being alone again, but she wanted to believe that he would come back.
When a brief ring sounded at her apartment door, Christina immediately knew who it was. Her heart raced as she opened the door…