He's lonely. A divorced, 52-year-old man, whose daughter lives far away, whose brother is too busy with his newborn. He tries to keep himself busy with work, hoping it'll help with the loneliness. But it doesn't. He's preparing his morning coffee while wishing there would be two mugs on the counter. He's eating his lunch alone, envying the others who check up on their spouses. Then in the evening, he's watching the TV while daydreaming about someone he could cuddle. But there's no one for him.

One day he's scrolling on his phone and an ad pops up. His brows knit together, his thumb moves to close the sketchy-looking site. But something doesn't let him press it. Something makes him think about it. He shakes his head, he's not that desperate. 'Still have some dignity in me' he thinks as he closes the ad.

But he can't stop thinking about it for days. He's heard things about these sites, about these mail-order brides. He always thought those men who fall for them are fools, too desperate, without a spine. Who would let themselves be used like that?

Turns out he's just as big of a fool as those men. He stands awkwardly in the airport, waiting for his 'bride'. He's thinking about leaving. Maybe this is a bad idea, a huge mistake. He looks at the flowers in his hand, feeling like a total loser for even buying them for a woman he doesn't even know. For a woman who doesn't even know him either. 'Still better than being alone' whispers a little voice in the back of his mind. He looks at the crowd, trying to find the woman in the beige dress. He didn't even see a proper picture of her, only a few grainy ones that looked like they were taken with a camera just as old as him.