I was packing up my life to move in with Eric when a knock on the door stopped me cold. It was Tom, my ex-husband, looking weary and regretful. I hadn’t expected him, and his sudden appearance stirred old wounds.

Tom asked to come in, and despite my reluctance, I let him. He revealed that his new partner had died, leaving him with a daughter, Ava, whom he couldn’t care for alone. He pleaded for my help.

I agreed to meet Tom and Ava at a café. Ava, with her innocent eyes, quickly warmed my heart, sparking a deep longing for motherhood. Tom proposed that helping him could be a chance to rebuild what was lost.

But as I spent more time with Ava, doubts arose. One evening, alone in Tom’s house, I found documents indicating his true motive: he needed a partner to secure Ava’s inheritance.

Confronting Tom, I discovered his deception. Devastated, I realized I needed to fight for what truly mattered. I called Eric, but he didn’t answer. I feared I’d lost him too.

In a rush, I took a taxi to Eric’s place. As I arrived, I saw him waiting in the rain, holding a bouquet of white roses. The sight brought tears to my eyes. I knew then that I had to explain, to fight for the love that had given me hope.