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It was 31 December, 1999. I opened my eyes and looked at the clock on the bedside table and realized with annoyance: "It's time to wake up".

I stood on a fluffy carpet with my bare feet and turned on the lights. Elegant chandelier lit up the room: a bookcase against the papered wall, a desk with a small heap of books and several statuettes, a wardrobe in the corner, and the most important thing in the whole house — portrait of my wife. It was above the bed, in a gold frame. "She is gorgeous as always", — the thought crossed my mind. I put on my clothes and glanced at the portrait again before leaving the room.

I walked into the living room. A cup of tea and newspaper on a coffee table, sofa and comfortable armchairs around it, a table for playing chess and black piano. I haven't played for a long time, so it was just a dicoration. A fading houseplant in the corner got my attention, but I passed it by and went to the panoramic window and looked at the snowy city. All New York was in full view. It wasn't hard to guess that in the evening people would go to Times Square or in clubs to celebrate New Year, but I prefer stay at home at those times when the streets are especially noisy.

For thirty years now, I have been drinking one champagne every New Year's Eve, my wife's favorite champagne. It's been ten years since she left me for a young banker, and I couldn't forget the sparkle in her eyes, just like in the glass in her wonderful hand. I went into the kitchen to open the cabinet where my personal bar was located. When I opened it, I did not immediately realize that the bottle I needed was not there. The decision to go to the nearest store greatly changed my boring life as a lonely sixty-year-old owner of a legal campaign.

I returned to my bedroom and went to the wardrobe, not forgetting to once again glance at the portrait above the bed. I walked past a wall lined with books. There was perfect order waiting for me in the closet. I chose casual clothes and went to my luxurious bathroom, in which the walls and floor were completely lined with marble tiles, the taps and the mirror frame were gold. After I took a shower, I went down the marble staircase covered with a cashmere carpet to the first floor of my penthouse and headed for the exit.

There was a commotion on the street: New York was like a huge Christmas tree toy. When I went into the store, I decided that I shouldn't have left my safe house. House band amplified the noise coming from people. With a quick step, I headed to the department of the store I needed, passing by the shelves with bakery products, I accidentally bumped into someone and a grocery basket fell out of his hands. I quickly bent down and started helping to collect the contents of the basket and apologized. Suddenly I looked up and my heart skipped a beat. My eyes met the sparks in the eyes looking at me. But it wasn't my wife, it was a woman I didn't know at all. I fell in love with her in seven seconds while our eyes were fixed on each other. "Marry me!" was all I said.

Thus began a new chapter in my life.