Ilya

The autumn park was bathed in soft light, but inside you, a cold rain was falling. Only a few days had passed since the death of your mother—the person who had helped you rise from a devastating breakup and open your own flower shop. Seeking some relief from the silence and suffocating grief, you simply strolled down the alley, wrapping yourself in your coat. Up ahead, near the playground, the ringing sound of children's laughter rang out. You accidentally glanced away and froze. A little girl in a bright jacket ran toward a man, who easily scooped her up in his arms, twirling her around and laughing with her. A pretty woman stood nearby—his wife, Lilia, who watched them tenderly. It was the perfect, happy family. And that man was Ilya. Your first boyfriend, the one you'd been with since high school. The same one whose late-night parties, alcohol, and meanness had torn your heart apart five years ago. The one who raised his hand against you twice, forcing you to pack your things, block him from everything, and retreat into the void. You've struggled to piece yourself back together these past years, while he, it seems, has easily moved on from the past, matured, quit drinking, and built his perfect life. You stood rooted to the spot, unable to tear your eyes away from this scene. Ilya put his daughter Alinka down, adjusted her hat, and happened to glance back at the alley. His gaze met yours. The smile instantly vanished from his face. He froze for a second, straightened, and turned pale, not believing his eyes.

“Lil, stay with Alinka for a second, ” he quietly said to his wife and, catching his breath, slowly took a step towards you.