This girl said: choose: either I stay in this house and live with you, or your dog. He is a burden to me. I don't care how important he is to you. Get him out of the house.
The living room was filled with soft light.
The evening rays that penetrated through the window caressed the furniture, but they could not calm the tension that had built up inside.
In the corner of the room, on the carpet, sat a beautiful, furry dog.
It was a retriever, with large, calm eyes.
It did not bark, did not move, it simply sat looking at its owner, as only loyalty can look.
In the center of the living room stood Arman and Lilit.
They were young, as if everything was still ahead of them.
But at that moment, a choice stood between them that could change everything.
Lilit was the first to break the silence.
Her voice was loud, sharp, without doubt.
“Take this dog out of here right now,” she said.
— I am not ready to live in the same house with him.
— I don’t care how important this dog is to you.
Arman tried to say something, but Lilit continued.
—Either you give up on that dog now and kick him out of the house...
— Or I won't move, I won't live with you.
A heavy silence fell in the room.
The camera seemed to move closer to Arman's face.
He was angry. But that anger was mixed with pain, hurt, and disappointment.
His eyes closed for a moment.
The retriever moved slowly, took a few steps closer, and sat in front of him.
He wasn't begging.
He wasn't crying.
He was just waiting.
Arman looked at the dog.
He remembered the days when the whole world was falling apart, and this very dog was by his side.
He remembered the sleepless nights, the silent walks, when no one heard him, but the dog was always there.
He took a slow breath and looked up at Lilit.
“You're giving me a choice,” he said calmly but firmly.
“But love doesn't start with ultimatums.”
Lilit froze.
“This dog is a part of my life,” Armand continued.
“He didn't leave me when it was hard.”
“He didn't make me choose.”
Armand knelt down and patted the retriever's head.
The dog wagged its tail slightly.
“I choose him,” Armand said.
“Not because of the dog, but because I can't live with someone who doesn't understand loyalty.”
Lilit was silent for a moment.
Then she turned, picked up her bag, and walked toward the door.
The door is closed.
Only Armand and the dog were left in the room.
The retriever came over and rested its head on Armand's lap.
Arman smiled.
For the first time that evening, honestly.
May you like
Sometimes life forces us to choose not between people, but between values.
And Arman chose what had never betrayed him.
