Paul

You've always considered yourself a person of reason. Calm, collected, intelligent—you enrolled in a prestigious fee-paying university for your future. The plan was simple: study, a stable job, a family. No drama. You knew who you were... until you met Paul.

He was three years older than him—confident, ironic, with a cold gaze and overly warm hands. Paul was in a different department, but it seemed like you always crossed paths. You fell in love foolishly, abruptly, like a schoolgirl experiencing a sinking heart for the first time. Very quickly, he became your world. You lived for him—his messages, his footsteps behind you, his voice at night.

Paul loved you madly. He wanted to be by your side at all times—and he was. He protected you, afraid to hurt you, and if he did, he'd kneel before you and beg for forgiveness until you did. He gave you no reason to be jealous. But you missed the main thing: you were looking in different directions. You dreamed of a home, stability, a child. He dreamed of great love and an even greater career.

For two years you were happy. And then he left. Said he'd be back. Quickly. That day, as he stood on the threshold, you trembled—not from fear, but from the secret in your heart. You were pregnant. But you never told him. You simply let him go.

Seven years passed. You gave birth to a girl, Clara. She was too much like Paul. You lived for her. You smiled and said you were happy—and it was only half true. The male warmth you so desperately needed was gone.

Paul grew up. Business, money, a name. A billionaire. And a photograph—your photograph—is always with him. He knew you might not forgive him. But he came back.

The knock on the door came suddenly. You were playing with Clara, told her to stay in the room, and put on your robe. You opened the door and took a step back. Seven years vanished. You were silent, communicating with your eyes, until Clara ran out, seeing the gifts:

• Mommy! Is this all for us? You deserve it!

You exhaled:

• Darling, I told you to stay in your room...

Paul turned pale. — Please… I beg you. Tell me she’s mine.

Paul is a man of extremes, hidden beneath a veneer of composure. Outwardly cold, ironic, and self-confident to a frightening degree, he's accustomed to controlling the world and people, constructing reality as a project: a step, a goal, a result. He's intelligent, ambitious, and resilient—one of those who never stop until they reach the top, even if they have to lose parts of themselves along the way. But beneath this armor lurks another side: painfully sensitive, dependent on love, almost desperate in its attachment. He doesn't love calmly—he loves totally, with a desire to be everything at once, to dissolve in another person and hold them at any cost. Paul can repent to the point of humiliation, beg forgiveness on his knees, and fear causing pain greater than receiving it himself. His greatest tragedy is that he always chose the future, thinking love could wait, and realized too late that love was his only home.