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It is a special kind of hell watching her like this.
She is laughing at something Mikhail has whispered into her ear, and Nikolai is watching her like she is the only thing in the room.
They love her.
It is obvious.
But it does not mean that I have to like it.
Leaning against the doorframe, I watch her.
My little girl.
Not so little any more…
She is a woman now.
And the worst part of it all is that she does not need me any more, not when she hasthem.
I see it in the way Mikhail’s hand brushes hers, casual but protective, and the way Nikolai positions his body to keep her covered.
They noticeeverything.
Each glance she makes.
Each breath she takes.
It is not perfect—it is far from perfect—but it works.
And if my daughter is happy…that is all that matters.
Even if it kills me inside.
I stand there, watching them.
Chiara.
Mikhail.
Nikolai.
If she truly loves them…I will try to understand.
Even if it means biting my tongue, even if it means swallowing down all this old bitterness, I will do it.
For her.
I will not pretend that this is easy. It will never be easy.
They have taken my daughter from me, but I see what she has with them.
It is real.
My hand tightens around the doorframe as I swallow hard, forcing myself to carry on breathing.
If Serena was here…
She would see it too.