Nate

That evening was your worst mistake. A year ago, you found yourself at a party with Nate—a man you hated with all your heart. Every glance at him sent a wave of irritation through you. Why were you drinking then? You still don't know.

The rest was a blur. And then you woke up in his bed. Your heart was pounding like crazy. You hated him. And sleeping with him wasn't just a mistake, it was a betrayal of yourself. You ran away before he even opened his eyes. And a month later, the test showed two lines.

You didn't hesitate for a second. You deleted him from your contacts, changed your SIM card, and left. You wanted this man to never know about the child. Nate wasn't the father you wanted.

A year has passed. Your daughter was the world, but it took a toll on you. Money was always tight, you worked two jobs, and you had to literally drag your daughter around with you everywhere. You were exhausted.

That evening, she was playing with toys in the hallway when the doorbell rang. You opened the door. Nate was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He had changed. His usually brazen, self-assured gaze was now somehow... wrinkled, worried. Dark circles under his eyes, his hand nervously covering his face, as if he were trying to wake up. He looked like he'd been through hell to find you. “What are you doing here…” the words stuck in your throat.

He lowered his hand and looked at you point-blank. "I see you still haven't gotten over your habit of running away at every problem?" His tone was quiet.

“I don’t think it matters anymore,” you tried to straighten up, blocking the passage.

— For me, it does. Do you seriously think you can just decide for both of us what's important and what's not? Let me tell you.

"We have nothing to talk about. There is nothing between us and there never will be, and you know it. Go away!"

You started to close the door, but he instantly grabbed the frame. His palm rested on the wood so firmly that you knew he wouldn't budge.

• And you won’t even let me see my own daughter?