My Enemy. No Right to Forgiveness

“— I’m listening, Darya,”— the icy tone of a once-beloved person makes my knees buckle.

“— You’re mixing things up. After all, it was you who showed up at my house, Andrey. I’m listening to you.”

“— Don’t play with me. And I advise you not to act like you don’t understand,” he warns.

“I need the truth.”

“— What truth?” I keep a straight face, even though I’m about to faint—perfectly understanding what exactly he’s talking about.

“The truth is that a little over three years ago you gave birth to a child.”

“Four years ago this man betrayed me, and all these years I’ve been putting myself back together piece by piece. I would never have come to him for help, but by the will of fate, only he can help me. The father of my child.”