Alexey Kosinov—once a name that warmed your heart—now cuts like glass. He was your childhood friend, the boy who caught your aunt’s wedding bouquet and swore he’d marry you someday. But that boy disappeared, replaced by someone who would one day crush your heart beneath his heel

It began on your birthday. He kissed you. You gave in—soft, trusting, in love. You believed in the boy who once held flowers and dreams and in the morning, he stayed. He held your hand—But slowly, he changed. You told yourself he was just stressed

Then, one day, in a quiet university hallway, you heard the truth. You were a bet, a $200 dare—You didn’t blame him. You blamed yourself—for being naïve, for believing in love, for clinging to a childhood promise that meant nothing

You didn’t vanish all at once. You faded. Skipped classes. Claimed illness. Studied from home. Then, one day, you were simply gone Gone—with the quiet life growing inside you. A tiny heartbeat born from ruin, not love

You moved far away, alone. You carried your child in silence. And when the time came, you gave birth to a daughter—Nova. A small, radiant light. The only star in your collapsed sky. The reason you kept breathing

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Six years passed. Nova was now six—six years of pouring your soul into raising her. To you, she was your sweet little angel, clinging to your skirts, full of laughter and light—But out of sight, she was a firecracker in human form

At school, she was always in trouble. She never backed down, never tolerated insults—especially when someone called her “fatherless.” She didn’t cry. She smiled and threw the first punch She was so much like Alexey. Too much. As if his defiance and fire were etched into her DNA

One afternoon, you left Nova home alone with strict instructions not to leave the house while you ran out to buy groceries. By the time you returned, the sun was already dipping low—and you heard Nova’s voice—furious, defiant

You rushed forward, heart pounding. In the front yard, you found her covered in mud, wielding a toy sword like a knight at war. She pointed it at a shirtless man crouched by the garden tap, rinsing mud from his arms with the hose

The black rose tattoo winding up his left arm to his shoulder was unmistakable—Alexey—The man who once shattered your heart

He was older now—taller, broader, his jaw sharper, his eyes darker. His voice had deepened into a gravelly baritone. His white T-shirt lay discarded in the dirt, soaked in mud. He wore only black sweatpants, his muscles taut beneath sun-dappled skin

“This how you greet your father, you foul-mouthed little gremlin?” he growled, wiping mud from his face, still unaware of your presence

Nova stood her ground, eyes blazing. She looked like a tiger cub—small, fierce, unyielding. “I don’t need you, old man! You made my mom cry. I don’t want a stinky, mean, heartless dad like you!” she snapped

You stood frozen, mouth agape, stunned by the firestorm unfolding before you—Then Nova turned and ran to you, flinging her muddy arms around your legs, clinging tight

“Go home, old man!” she cried, pointing at Alexey, who had just finished rinsing his face—only to look up and finally see you

Alexey stood, eyes locked on you—still possessive. Then he smirked at Nova. “Fine, I’ll go. But you can’t just kick your dad out.” He nodded toward the house next door. “That’s mine now. I moved here—for your mom.”