The candles had already burned halfway down when Laurent finally walked in. The cake sat untouched in the center of the table, the decorations hanging limp in the stagnant air. Eighteen candles. Eighteen years. All waiting for him.

Elena was standing there, arms crossed, fury and disappointment etched into her face. "You're late," she said coldly.

Laurent tossed his coat onto the chair, ignoring her tone. In his hand — a gift bag, hastily wrapped, the kind you grab at the last moment.

"At least I came."

"At least?" Elena's voice rose, sharp, cutting. "She sat here in her best dress for two hours, Laurent. Kept saying, 'Dad will come. He promised.' Do you have any idea what it's like to watch her blow out her candles without you?"

He rolled his eyes. "Don't start."

"This is her eighteenth birthday!" Elena shouted.

"Her one night. The night she waited for. And you stroll in here with your excuses like she means nothing."

"She means enough," he snapped, his patience cracking. "I give her money, don't I? I show up when I can. What more do you want from me?"

Elena's voice broke with rage. "She doesn't want your money, Laurent. She wants a father. She wanted you. But you've never been able to give her that, have you?"

He turned on her then, his voice raw, venomous. "I never asked for her! I begged you to end it before it even started, remember? I told you to get rid of it—get rid of her. But you didn't listen. You trapped me with eighteen years of a mistake I never wanted!"

Elena's face twisted with fury. "Don't you dare call her a mistake."

"She ruined my life!" Laurent roared, slamming the gift bag onto the table so hard the box inside cracked. "Everything I built, everything I had — gone! All because you couldn't keep your legs closed and then refused to do the one decent thing when I told you to abort!"

Her hand flew and struck his face with a sharp crack. "You bastard!"

Laurent staggered, his eyes blazing. He shoved her hard against the counter, "Don't touch me with your filthy hands!" he yelled at her.

Elena's scream tore through the kitchen. "She is your daughter!"

"No. My family is at home. The wife who stayed. The children who aren't born out of one night I regret every damn day. That is my family, Elena. Not this." His voice was fire, unrestrained, brutal.

He pointed toward the cake like it disgusted him. "I begged you to end it. But you refused. And you didn't just ruin me — you cursed us both with a problem that's been haunting us for eighteen years!"

The silence was heavy.

And then—

A sound behind them.

They both turned.

Laurent froze, blood draining from his face. "Wait—listen, I didn't—"

For a moment, no one breathed.

Then Elena's sob broke the silence, raw and violent. She pointed at him with a shaking hand.

"Look what you've done! You destroyed her, Laurent! You destroyed everything!"

"I—" his voice cracked, breaking under its own weight. His chest heaved as his anger dissolved into panic. "I didn't mean—God, I didn't want this—"

He stumbled toward the door, calling desperately after her. "Dear, please! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it—don't go, please!"

His voice echoed down the stairwell, ragged, frantic, trembling. "Sweetheart... I swear I love you... forgive me..."