Alex entered, the tension palpable in the air, so thick he could almost touch it. The room was small, humble, but immaculate. A worn fabric sofa, a wooden coffee table, shelves full of books, and a few plants. The scent of coffee and a subtle air freshener filled the space, a homey aroma that enveloped him. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to take in the reality.
“Would you like something to drink?” Sofia offered, heading towards the kitchen. “I have water, or perhaps some tea.”
“Water, please,” he replied, his throat dry. As she moved with quiet efficiency, Alex couldn’t help but let his gaze wander around the room, absorbing every detail, every sign of the life Sofia had built without him. That’s when he saw him.
On a small side table, next to a reading lamp and a pot with a purple orchid, was a framed photograph.
A recent photo. In it, smiling with disarming innocence, was Sofia… and a child. A child of about four or five years old, with messy brown hair and bright blue eyes.
Alex’s world stopped. His heart, already pounding, lurched painfully and stopped completely. Those eyes. They were unmistakable. Identical to his own, the same deep shade of blue, the same almond shape. His breath caught in his throat. He felt an icy chill run down his spine, despite the warmth of the room.
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