The night was cold, and the entire house felt painfully silent too silent. Ivan lay on his bed, stiff and still, staring at the ceiling as if the answers to his life were written up there. He didn't feel like playing games today, didn't feel like distracting himself. It was two in the morning, and his thoughts were louder than the night around him.
His mother's words kept replaying in his mind like a broken tape.
"I'm going to become an elder brother."
The sentence struck him again and again. He didn't want to think about what it truly meant. His jaw tightened, teeth pressing together as he forced himself to remain calm. But the anger inside him was real, hot, suffocating. It mixed with a familiar ache one that lived in him every day.
"How… how did I end up here?" he whispered to the darkness.
"Dad… please come back. Mumma doesn't love me…"
His voice trembled, barely audible.
He turned on his side, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.
"I miss you, Dad… please come…" he murmured again, as if saying it enough times would bring his father back.
He closed his eyes tightly. No dreams, no thoughts just darkness. He wished he wouldn't wake up again. He wished the truth would stop chasing him. He wished the pain would stop beating inside his chest. Slowly, exhausted from crying, Ivan fell asleep with wet lashes and a trembling breath.
---
Morning sunlight entered his room, but even that felt too bright. Ivan didn't want to move. He lay still for a long moment, feeling empty, heavy. Finally, out of duty or habit, he got up. His body dragged itself forward, almost lifeless. He washed his face, but the reflection in the mirror didn't look like him anymore.
The window in his room was closed as always.
He stared at it—the sunlight reflecting off the glass. For a moment, he wanted to open it, feel the fresh air, but he didn't move. Something inside him felt stuck, locked.
"Come!" Jaya shouted from the hall.
Ivan didn't answer. His silence was his only rebellion.
The door opened, and Jaya entered his room.
"What?" Ivan asked without looking at her.
"I'm not asking you. It's an order," she said firmly.
Ivan sighed. He didn't have the energy to argue. He put on a T-shirt and his lower, moving slow and unwilling. He walked downstairs, each step heavy, then opened the car door and sat in the back seat. He leaned against the window, staring outside like he wanted to be anywhere else.
As the car moved, Ryaan passed by on his bicycle. For a few seconds, their eyes met. Ryaan's lips curled into a soft smirk teasing, knowing. Ivan didn't return the expression. He simply stared, then turned his head to follow Ryaan's figure until he disappeared.
Inside Ivan's head, another voice echoed words from last night.
(Criminals never feel pain.
Criminals don't care about others.
They only love themselves.)
The words stabbed him again.
"When you turn eighteen, I'll buy you a new car, Ivan," Jaya said from the front seat, trying to sound cheerful, trying to sound like a mother.
Ivan's eyes shifted to her.
"Are you pregnant, Mother?" he asked suddenly.
Jaya smiled faintly. "Yes… isn't it the happiest news?"
"I'm… happy for you…" Ivan replied, but his tone was flat, empty.
"See?" she continued. "To live a happy life, we must forget the past. We can't hold on to it forever, dear Ivan."
"But the past makes our future," he said quietly.
"The future is in our hands. The past is our mistakes," she replied calmly.
"The past matters," Ivan whispered.
Jaya didn't answer that. She just parked the car and said,
"We're here. Come on, get out. We'll buy a suit for you. After that, we'll have lunch with Marcus. He said he's coming."
Ivan's head snapped up.
"Marcus is coming?"
"Yes. I need him. Without him, how will I buy a bridal gown?"