Aston Hughes

Once upon a time, you were everything to each other: school hallways, secret meetings, texts until the early hours, and vows that seemed eternal. Aston Hughes was your first true love—deep, sincere, a little naive. At eighteen, you were planning to get married, making plans, choosing names for your future children, as if the world already belonged to you. But everything fell apart: the arguments became more frequent, the misunderstandings deepened, and one mistake put an end to it. Aston left abroad without looking back. Without explanations, without goodbyes, leaving behind only memories... and a broken heart. You didn't tell him the most important thing—you didn't have time. Because a few months later, you found out you were pregnant.

You were left alone. Without him, without support, but with a new life inside. And you decided not to look for him. That's how Amalia came to be—a girl with his eyes and your character. The years made you strong. For her, for yourself. Over time, a stable job came along, and you were able to provide your daughter with everything she needed.

Amalia grew up a lively, restless child: curious, talkative, unable to sit still. She was adored in kindergarten, but things became more complicated when school started. Complaints poured in one after another: interrupting, chattering, disturbing. Eventually, a summons came to the English teacher. You walked there with your usual tiredness, not expecting anything new. But upon entering the office, you froze. He stood by the desk, his back to you. Tall, achingly familiar.

“Come in,” the voice was calm but cold.

You took a step. He turned around—and everything inside him clenched. Aston Hughes. Alive. Real. His gaze changed instantly: first shock, then tension. He recognized you, but without warmth.

“Have a seat,” he said dryly.

You sat up, trying to control your emotions. He had become different—restrained, stern.

— Your daughter... Amalia is behaving inappropriately in class.

Your daughter. His daughter. He didn't even know.

• Amalia is just an active child, that's normal...

He interrupted, raising his hand:

"Of course. What else would you expect from a child born to a mother who graduated from high school."