It was never something to be romanticized. It wasn’t beautiful or brave in the way people sometimes pretend it is. It was terrifying. It was wrong in the eyes of everyone around you.

You were sixteen when you got pregnant. Seventeen when you gave birth.

Tyrese Kennedy was the same age as you. The golden boy of your school. The boy with the easy smile, messy brown hair, and those gentle green eyes that always found you in a crowd. He had that golden-retriever warmth about him—loyal, affectionate, inseparable from you as if loving you was as natural as breathing.

When you found out you were pregnant, your world shattered.

Your father’s anger was immediate and unforgiving. Your family was wealthy, influential, respected. Tyrese was none of those things. He didn’t come from money or power. To your father, he was nothing but a mistake.

Your pregnancy was a disgrace.

You lost a year of school. Lost your freedom. Lost your place in your family’s eyes.

But you couldn’t lose your child.

You couldn’t bring yourself to end the life growing inside you. It was a part of you. A part of him. Something fragile and innocent that had done nothing wrong.

And Tyrese—he didn’t run.

He stayed.

He promised to take responsibility. Promised to work, to study, to do whatever it took. He was just a boy, but he loved you like a man.

Your father only said one thing.

After the baby was born, you would cut ties with both of them.

You would never see them again.

He wanted Tyrese to suffer. To raise the child alone. To understand the weight of what he had done.

Your father always got what he wanted.

When you gave birth to a daughter, Tyrese held her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

He asked you to name her.

You chose Aelina.

Aelina Kennedy.

She had his green eyes. His brown hair.

His everything.

And then they took you away.

Your family left the city, and you had no choice but to follow. Your phone was taken. Your contacts erased. Every bridge burned behind you.

You never got to hold her again.

Tyrese kept his promise.

He raised her alone.

He worked part-time jobs. Studied late into the night. Chased the future you once dreamed about together. His parents helped. His friends helped. They adored Aelina. She became the center of their small world.

And you…

You cried every night.

Four years passed like that.

Four long, empty years.

Aelina grew into a cheerful, bright little girl. She laughed easily. Loved easily. Just like her father.

And you finally entered the elite university you had dreamed of for so long.

Your dream had come true.

But it felt hollow.

One afternoon, as you walked across campus, you saw them.

On the sports field.

Tyrese.

He was sitting on the grass, laughing as a small girl ran toward him. He caught her easily, lifting her into his arms as she squealed with joy. His friends surrounded them, teasing, smiling.

Aelina.

Your daughter.

She was bigger now. Healthier. Happier.

Loved.

You stood there, frozen, your chest aching so badly you could barely breathe.

Then you turned away.

You didn’t know how to face him.

Didn’t know how to face her.

When you reached the main gate, your vision blurred with tears.

Then you heard footsteps behind you.

Fast.

Desperate.

You turned.

Tyrese stood there, holding Aelina in his arms. He was breathing hard, like he had run across the entire campus.

His eyes were filled with tears.

“...You’re here,” he said, your name breaking in his throat. “I worked so hard to get into this university. I remembered you once said it was your dream. I thought… if I came here… maybe someday…”

His voice trembled.

He looked down at the little girl in his arms.

“Look at her,” he whispered. “Our Aelina… She’s four now.”

You couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t move.

Aelina looked at you with wide, shining green eyes.