SMALL APARTMENT, MONTMARTRE, PARIS
The cold autumn wind rustled the reddish leaves outside the window of their small but cozy rented apartment. Elara sat on the sofa, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, staring at a cup of chamomile tea that had gone cold. In the bedroom, Alisha had finally fallen asleep after a day of asking where "Daddy" went and when they were going home.
The poetic serenity of Paris only served to highlight the chaos within her. Her thoughts swirled like leaves carried by the wind.
Not completely innocent. That was the rational part. David was manipulated, poisoned, slandered. He was a victim in Natasha's insane game. But this woman's heart rejected logic. Her heart still felt a deep, stabbing pain every time she imagined David—her David—in the same bed with another woman. Even if he was unconscious, even if it was orchestrated, the image stuck. The scent of her perfume, the touch of her skin, the warmth of her body... all things that should have belonged only to Elara.
Then, there was a darker, more piercing fear gnawing at her mind in the dead of night.
What if Natasha is pregnant?
A cold sweat dampened her temples. If there was a child from that liaison—whether planned or not—then the bond between David and Natasha would become permanent. An inevitable life. Would David take responsibility? Of course. That was the man she knew. And where would that leave her? Could she raise the child of the woman who tried to destroy her family? Could she see Natasha's face in that child every day? Or... should she step back forever, letting David form a new "family" with Natasha?
Ah. Her head was spinning. Her tears flowed again, silently, down her already pale cheeks. She loved David. That love wasn't dead; it was just badly wounded, shielded behind piles of disappointment and fear. But was love alone enough? Enough to overcome the shadow of another woman? Enough to forgive a weakness that—though engineered—still happened?
A RING THAT SHAKES THE CALM
Her phone vibrated on the wooden table. The name flashed: DAVID.
Her heart stopped for a moment, then pounded like a war drum. Her hand trembled. Should she answer? Was she ready? But Alisha... Alisha needed to hear her father's voice.
She took a deep breath, then touched the green screen.
"Hello?"
"El."His voice. David's voice. Hoarse, burdened, but warm like an undying flame. There was a long, awkward pause. "I... I just wanted to hear your voice. And Alisha's. Are... are you both settled in okay?"
"We're fine," Elara replied, her voice flat, struggling hard to contain the turmoil. "Alisha is asleep."
"Oh."He sounded disappointed. "Alright. Let her rest."
Then,silence again. Only his breaths were audible over the phone.
"El..."he started again, with great difficulty. "How are you? Are you... feeling any better?"
The question felt like a blow. Any better? Her world had just crumbled. She flew to another continent with their daughter, leaving everything behind. Better?
The sobs she had been holding back burst forth. She covered her mouth with her hand, but the groans of pain and confusion escaped anyway. She couldn't speak. She couldn't utter a single word. The pain was too great.
"El? Elara! What's wrong? Please say something!" David's voice was panicked on the other end.
Elara couldn't do it. She placed the phone on the sofa, moving away from the device as if it would burn her. She hugged her knees, her body shaken by heavy sobs.
THE VOICE OF A LITTLE ANGEL
A moment later—Elara didn't know how long—a small voice came from the abandoned phone.
"Hello? Daddy?"
Alisha.She had woken up and found the phone still connected.
"Alisha! Sweetheart!" David's voice changed, full of relief and overflowing longing. "Are you okay?"
"Daddy,I'm fine. But Mommy..." her little voice trembled. "Mommy is crying. Since we came here, Mommy often cries by herself."
Elara closed her eyes tighter, ashamed to be heard by her daughter.
"Alisha,Daddy..." David's voice broke. "Daddy made a very big mistake. But Daddy promises, Daddy didn't mean to hurt Mommy."
"Is it true?"asked Alisha, innocent yet sharp. "Is it true you will separate? My school friend, her parents separated, and they are never a family again. Will we not be a family anymore?"
That question, delivered in the innocent voice of a six-year-old, struck straight to the hearts of both parents separated by thousands of kilometers.
"No, Sweetheart. No," David whispered, his voice full of almost desperate determination. "We are one family. Forever. Daddy is trying to fix everything. Daddy is fighting an evil monster who caused all this."
"A monster? Like in fairy tales?"
"Like in fairy tales.And Daddy needs time to defeat it. But Daddy promises, Daddy will come for you. Bring you home."
"Does Mommy want to come home too?" Alisha whispered.
Elara,hearing everything, drew a shaky breath.
"Daddy doesn't know,Sweetheart," David answered honestly, his voice full of a vulnerability Elara had never heard before. "But Daddy will try to be better. To be a father and husband worthy of both of you. Can you tell Mommy something for Daddy?"
"Yes, Daddy."
"Tell her...Daddy has the proof now. Daddy knows everything. And Daddy is cleaning our house of that monster. Also tell her... Daddy understands if she can't forgive Daddy now. But Daddy begs, don't give up hope. Don't give up hope on us."
Alisha repeated his message softly, word for word, like a little angel delivering a decree.
Elara listened, and for the first time since the airport, a chunk of ice in her heart began to crack. Not because she immediately believed, but because the vulnerability in David's voice was real. It was the voice of a man fighting, not defending himself.
AFTER THE CALL ENDED
Alisha crawled into Elara's lap, hugging her tightly. "Mommy, Daddy said he loves us. He said we are one family."
Elara kissed her daughter's head."Yes, Sweetheart."
"Does Mommy still love Daddy?"
That question...so simple, so profound.
"Very deeply,Baby," Elara whispered back, admitting a truth she couldn't deny. "But sometimes, love alone is not enough. Sometimes it takes even greater courage."
"Like the prince fighting the dragon?"
"Yes,"Elara smiled bitterly, patting Alisha's back. "Like the prince fighting the dragon. And like the princess who has to decide if her castle is still fit to live in after being wrecked by the dragon."
That night, after Alisha fell asleep again, Elara stood on the balcony. Paris sparkled below her. She looked at the sky, imagining David might also be looking at the same sky from afar.
That phone call changed something. She was still hurt, still afraid, still confused. But her blind anger was beginning to subside, replaced by a profound weariness and... a seed of curiosity.
He has proof. He is cleaning the house.
Maybe, just maybe, there was hope. But before she could open the door to her heart again, she needed more than words. She needed to see that proof. She needed to see that fight. And she needed to be sure of one thing: that there was no "legacy" from that betrayal—no child—that would forever haunt their marriage.
Her decision wasn't made yet. The bridge wasn't built. But at least tonight, she stopped thinking about escape. She began to think about... possibility.