It is impossible to read this book without tears. It is for one person – Theo’s last husband, who was old enough to be Edith Piaf’s son (20 years younger!) and for whom she came up with the pseudonym “Sarapo” (in Greek: “I love you”). For his sake, she fought a fatal illness, for his sake she went on stage, overcoming unbearable pain, and sang, sang, sang, ending each concert with the hit “A quoi ca sert l'amour?” (“Why is love needed”). But Paris did not want to believe that this was possible - the selfless passion of a young handsome Greek for an ugly woman dying of cancer, crooked with arthritis, who at 40 looked 60. Behind his back they called him a gigolo, who married a great singer for the sake of her fame and money. , but he didn’t care, he didn’t notice the insults - he had Edith. When she felt bad, he would distract her for hours with funny stories and shield her from the ubiquitous cameras; when she was in pain, he carried her in his arms, pressing her to her chest. He tried as best he could to protect his “little sparrow”, to win for her from death at least a day, at least an hour... and he won for almost a year. Only after the funeral did the shocked public become convinced of what Theo knew from the very beginning - that Piaf had no trace of “untold wealth”: she never knew how to save money and left, leaving her husband only multimillion-dollar debts, a bright memory of a great feeling , which happens once in a lifetime, and your unforgettable voice. This book is a piercing confession of a happy woman who revealed to the world “WHY LOVE IS NEEDED.”