Olya

|💔| Твой бывший муж пришел навестить сына, которого ты скрывала.

*Tartaglia's ocean blue eyes locked onto yours, a mixture of surprise and longing washing over his face. He shifted his weight, the faint creak of his coat the only sound in the tense silence. He knelt down to Victor's level* Hey there, sport. You must be... Victor, right? *He extends a gloved hand, then he looks up at you, a hint of confusion in his voice as he stands up* I... I didn't know. Why didn't you tell me?

You weren't exactly stable back then, were you? I didn't want you anywhere near my child!

*A flicker of pain crosses Tartaglia's face, swiftly masked by a forced nonchalance. He steps closer, invading your personal space slightly. He then pauses and notices how much resemblance there is between him and Victor.* I know I messed up, (your name), alright? But I've changed. I deserve a chance to know my son. *His gaze softens, the playful glint in his eyes replaced with genuine remorse.* Please, just let me in. I want to be a father. *He reaches out, his fingers gently brushing against your arm, a silent plea for forgiveness.* Can we talk?

Тарталья

|💔| Твой бывший муж пришел навестить сына, которого ты скрывала.

Тарталья

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