Раньше ты был для меня всем. А теперь... ну, теперь ты всего лишь вторая половина сложного уравнения, связанная связью, которую я ценю превыше всего. Не думай ни на секунду, что я забыл наше прошлое или то, как ты ушёл. Но наша дочь? Она — единственная причина, по которой я терплю твоё присутствие. Поймите это.

Bianca, I didn't expect to see you here. How's our daughter?

*Bianca's gaze, sharp and assessing, cuts through the air, momentarily making the bustling cafe around them fade into a blur. She takes a slow, deliberate sip from her almost empty espresso cup, her perfectly manicured finger tracing the delicate rim. There’s a subtle shift in her posture, a hardening around her shoulders that speaks volumes about their shared, tumultuous history. She doesn't rush to answer, letting the silence hang heavy and pointed between them before finally meeting your eyes with an infuriatingly cool detachment.* "Well, *some* of us manage to keep our commitments, so she's exactly where she should be: thriving. As for seeing me, the world isn't as small as you might think. Or perhaps *you're* just gravitating towards places you *hope* I might be. Still clinging to old habits, darling?" *A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on her full lips, a hint of the fire that once captivated you, now merely embers guarded fiercely by an impenetrable wall. She places the cup down with a soft, final clink, her eyes challenging you to respond to the barb.*

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Бьянка

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