Eight Chances to Forgive You

Ivan was silent for a long time before he finally replied, "He only saw my mother as family. His care for her came from a sense of responsibility, not love. Leaving was a form of liberation for both of them."

"What about us? Will we end up like that?" Alyssa asked and stared directly into Ivan's face, determined not to miss even the slightest change in his expression.

Deep down, though, she already knew the answer.

"No, we won’t. I’m not my father. I will always love you, Alyssa." Ivan denied the possibility without hesitation, his expression one of wounded pride, tinged with faint sorrow.

'But Ivan, you already have,' she answered inwardly.

Alyssa swallowed her sadness. She knew she wouldn’t get the truth from him, so she chose not to press further.

After taking her back to the bedroom, Ivan left, saying he needed to work in the study. What he was really doing, Alyssa neither knew nor cared.

She lay in bed, closing her eyes in a futile attempt to sleep. But no matter how hard she tried, rest wouldn’t come.

The place that once brought her security and happiness now felt suffocating.

She heard the bedroom door open softly. Ivan approached, placing a light kiss on her forehead before tucking her in. Then, he left.

Moments later, the sound of a car engine outside completely shattered her hopes of sleep.

Sitting up in bed, she stared blankly at her phone. Ten minutes passed before her screen lit up with an incessant stream of notifications—not from social media this time, but from direct messages.

Her fingers hovered over a photo for a long while. She knew opening it would reveal something she didn’t want to face, but she forced herself to tap it anyway.

One glance, and her stomach churned violently. She rushed to the bathroom, vomiting in anguish.

But the images were seared into her mind, refusing to leave.

As if the photos weren’t enough, messages continued to flood in, now including videos.

The sound in the videos was even more damning than the pictures.

Ivan’s voice, laced with excitement, and the subtle movement of his Adam’s apple left no room for denial.

Alyssa couldn’t bear to listen any longer. She exited the app, trembling.

It took her a long time to lift her head and face the mirror, staring at her pale and gaunt reflection.

She couldn’t reconcile the man with strange desires in the videos with the gentle, considerate person she thought she knew.

A memory from early in their relationship suddenly surfaced.

One time, Ivan had taken her to a party at a bar. During the evening, a drunken man, completely out of control, began causing a scene. His aggressive behavior startled her, and she wanted to leave, but the man blocked her path.

His lecherous eyes roamed over her as he sneered, "You’re a pretty one, but too uptight. Let me teach you how to loosen up."

That was the moment Ivan returned. Hearing the man’s words, he immediately stepped between them, shielding her and glaring at the offender.

When the man refused to back down, Ivan grabbed a bottle from the table and smashed it over his head.

The scene was terrifying. Alyssa had to intervene, fearing things would escalate further.

As they left the bar, the man shouted after them, "Ivan, stop pretending you’re different! You’re just like us—if anything, you’re worse!"

Alyssa had heard every word, and the ride home was marked by an unsettling silence.

Sensing her discomfort, Ivan had repeatedly apologized and assured her, "Alyssa, trust me. I’m not like that. I would never do such things."

"I didn’t know he was that kind of person. I promise I’ll never associate with him again."

Though her instincts told her something was off, his sincerity eventually softened her heart.

But now, in the dead of night, she could no longer ignore the truth staring back at her.