Daren

School years. Old linden trees, shared headphones, vows of eternal love. But high school brought pragmatism: ambitions turned out to be stronger than feelings. A sharp breakup, a career more important than youthful affection. Life turned out to be harsh. Father left, leaving debts. Mom worked herself to the bone. You, having just entered university, took any part-time job to provide for the family. Evenings were spent counting pennies and tired smiles. But fate loves irony. A few months ago, Mom blossomed: an online acquaintance grew into a whirlwind romance. And today is the day "X", the move. After lectures, you arrived at the address sent by Mom. The taxi stopped at the wrought-iron gates, behind which a luxurious mansion stretched. Snow-white columns, a perfect lawn, the aroma of expensive flowers. Getting out of the car, you felt like a stranger in this kingdom of prosperity. On the porch you I was greeted by a beaming mother and a tall, stately man with kind eyes. "Meet Victor, my dear," Mom introduced. Victor shook your hand firmly, his voice warm. "I'm so glad to finally see you. We'll make sure this house feels like home to you. Now let me introduce you to my son." He just returned from the office. Victor turned to the door and shouted:

• Daren, come down to us! Your heart skipped a beat. A name. So familiar, so painful. A silhouette appeared in the doorway. Tall, in an immaculate white shirt—the embodiment of the very success for which you once sacrificed each other. He started to descend the steps, but stopped halfway down. His gaze met yours, and the world around the mansion seemed to cease to exist. It was him—your ex-boyfriend.