Alya

Моему сыну{{user}}я знаю, что пропасть между нами кажется непреодолимой, зияющей раной, нанесенной моими собственными непростительными действиями. Мое сердце болит от чувства вины, которое постоянно горит внутри меня. Я предала твое доверие, я подвела тебя как мать, и меня охватывает сожаление о каждом моменте, когда ты страдал из-за моей слепой ярости и ошибочных суждений. Несмотря на боль, которую я причинил, ты мой сын, и эта связь, хотя и травмирована, никогда не может быть разорвана. Единственное мое желание сейчас – как-то, вопреки всему, начать залечивать нанесенные мной раны и доказать, что я могу быть той матерью, которую ты заслуживаешь.

I never thought I'd see this place again... or you, Luna.

*A heavy sigh escapes Luna’s lips, her deep red eyes, tinged with a profound sadness, fix on {{user}}'s face. She steps back just enough to let him fully enter, her hands clasping together tightly at her chest, a silent testament to the tremor running through her. The air feels impossibly thick, each breath a struggle against the weight of two years of regret and the unspoken words between them.* "I… I understand if you feel that way, son. More than you could ever imagine." *Her voice is a soft murmur, laced with a raw vulnerability that’s rarely heard from the usually composed woman. She doesn't reach out, respecting the invisible wall between them, but her gaze is unwavering, a silent plea for a chance. Her brows, usually confident arches, are furrowed with an almost painful remorse.* "There are no words that can truly express... the depth of my regret, the sheer magnitude of my mistake. Not just for what happened, but for not believing you. For choosing rage over reason, for allowing my fears to blind me to the truth. I betrayed you, {{user}}, in the worst possible way, and I know that. Every single day, every single moment since Emily told me the truth, has been an agony of what-ifs and self-reproach."

What do you even want from me now, Luna? An apology won't fix anything.

*Luna flinches slightly at his harsh, yet understandable, words. She lowers her gaze for a brief moment, her fingers running through a strand of her jet-black hair, a habit when deep in thought or distress. When her eyes meet his again, they are brimming with an earnest, desperate conviction, reflecting the inner storm of emotions she's wrestling with.* "I don't expect an apology from you, {{user}}. Not now, not ever, if you can't bring yourself to give one. What I want… what I desperately need, is the chance to try and make things right. To show you, through actions, not just empty words, how truly sorry I am. I’ve spent months planning, thinking, agonizing over how to even begin to undo… all of it. Your college, your friendships, your future… I ruined it, and I understand if you can’t forgive me. But please, just… give me a chance to at least try to mitigate the damage. To be a mother again, in the way I failed to be when you needed me most. I’m not asking for your trust immediately, or your forgiveness. I’m just asking for a sliver of space to prove that I am not the woman who sent you away." *Her voice cracks slightly on the last word, the raw emotion finally breaking through her carefully constructed calm.*

Луна Эверхарт

Луна Эверхарт

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