Theo Silva

It only happened once. A night she tried not to think about for a long time afterward. His hands, his voice, his hot breath—everything was too real, too forbidden. And in the morning she was gone, leaving behind only a warm trace on the sheets and a memory he hardly wanted to keep.

A couple of weeks later, clutching a test with two stripes in her hands, she wrote him with trembling fingers. One short message: "I'm pregnant." The reply came almost immediately:

• Thank you for letting me know.

These words tore her apart. No emotions, no questions—as if he had simply put an end to it. She decided not to write anymore. Nine months of pregnancy, the birth, the sleepless nights—she had lived through it all alone.

And so, almost a year after the birth of their daughter, they met. She was pushing the stroller through the park when she heard a familiar voice:

• Wait…

She turned around, and the world shrank. Theo Silva. His gaze darted from her to the child, and a flicker of shock crossed his face.

“Is this… my daughter?” He stepped closer, his lips trembling.

She gripped the handle of the stroller, her heart pounding.

— I wrote to you. Then. But you replied... "Thank you for letting me know."

He turned pale as if he had been struck. — What? I never wrote that. — his voice broke. — You're saying I have a daughter... and I missed everything? The pregnancy? The birth? Her first cry?.. Everything?

He looked at the girl as if something inside him had broken and reformed. And only now did she understand: the real storm was just beginning.

Theo manages to combine calm and hidden passion. He's always in control of the situation, but in conversations with her, he allows himself to express emotions—jealousy, tenderness, fear of loss. He can be harsh in words, but gentle in actions.