They sat across from each other in a small buka behind the market—far from curious eyes. Junior was with Maria's neighbour for the moment, giving them space.
Alexander stirred his drink but didn't sip. Maria's arms were folded tightly across her chest, her eyes fixed on him, guarded and unreadable.
He was the first to speak.
"I've thought about that day more times than I can count."
Maria scoffed. "You mean the day you used me like I was some kind of service?"
His face tightened. "I won't lie—I was a selfish man. Arrogant. Entitled. I thought I could take whatever I wanted, and people would thank me for it."
She said nothing, but her silence hit harder than words.
"I've changed," he continued. "That's not who I am anymore."
"You had no right," she said, voice trembling. "You ruined my life. I lost my job. I lost my dignity. And when I found out I was pregnant, I had no one."
Alexander looked down.
"I raised that boy alone. I begged for food. I hawked on the streets pregnant, in the rain, just to survive. And you… you went back to your skyscrapers and champagne."
"I'm sorry," he said quietly.
"Sorry?" She laughed bitterly. "Will that feed him? Will it heal me?"
He looked up then, eyes glassy. "No. It won't. But I'm here now. And I want to be part of his life. If you'll let me."
Maria stared at him, heart torn.
Part of her wanted to scream, to slap him, to walk out and never look back.
But another part—smaller, quieter—wanted to believe.
"He doesn't even know who you are," she said. "And I don't know if I want him to."
Alexander nodded slowly. "Then let me earn it. Let me prove that I can be a father. Not with money. With presence."
Maria looked away, blinking back sudden tears.
"You don't get to walk in and play hero after five years, Alex. This is real life, not a boardroom deal."
He stood up, placed his card gently on the table. "I'll wait. As long as it takes."
As he turned and walked away, Maria sat still, her heart beating hard. The card felt like fire in her hands. She wasn't ready to forgive.
But something had shifted.
And nothing would ever be the same again.