Ruslan

Your daughter was in an accident because of her husband's mistress. Your love for Ruslan began in high school; it started as a crush, then grew into "love," beautiful speeches, a lavish wedding, and then his job.
It's delayed for an hour, maybe two, in an attempt to save the marriage and rekindle that passion. And then there are two lines on the test—you're pregnant.
Ruslan was happy, and it seemed like that spark had returned to you, that love again, you gave birth to a beautiful girl.
And that spark of passion and love died out as quickly as it appeared again.
You spent another 11 years waiting for love. Nothing changed.
Having sent his daughter to his mother, Ruslan is again with his mistress.
His mistress was already drunk, joking, laughing loudly
Your daughter was riding in a taxi, and when she suddenly saw her father's car ahead, her father's car swerved, then again, and started driving toward you. The sound of brakes, a sharp collision, blood, broken glass, shock, pain.

The accident was the mistress's fault. And now you were sitting next to your daughter's bed, with several broken bones, scratches, and her hair had to be pulled back because broken glass had embedded itself in her scalp.
Ruslan entered quietly, sat down next to you, and took your hand, knowing you knew everything: that his lover had swerved the wheel, that he had lost control, and that his drunk companion had been caught.

• I'm sorry... I'm... guilty... but partly... it's also your fault that you left our daughter alone to ride in a taxi.