The bright rays of a late May sun filtered through the trees in the park, casting long shadows across the well-worn paths. The air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers — lilacs, jasmine, and fresh grass. It felt like the whole world had come alive again after the long winter, and yet, for Vasily, there was only the slow, steady march of time.

Vasily Ferguson, standing alone in the park, stared at the patch of grass where he had once played with his children. His heart was heavy, burdened with the past. The sound of children’s laughter echoed faintly in the distance, and for a moment, Vasily could almost hear the voices of his own twins — Lera and Denis. His mind flashed back to a time when his life was full of warmth and love, before he made the choice that shattered it all.

Fifteen years ago, he had walked away from his family. He could still remember that day vividly: the packed suitcase, the strained silence in the house, and the finality in his voice when he had told Olya that he couldn’t continue. He had convinced himself it was for the best — that he deserved more, that the life he had with Olya had grown stale. The passion was gone, replaced by routine and disconnection.

At the time, leaving felt like the right choice. Irina, the woman he had left Olya for, was everything Olya no longer was. She was young, exciting, and full of life, while Olya had become consumed with motherhood and household responsibilities. He had convinced himself that Irina would bring him the happiness he had longed for.

But now, standing in this park, Vasily felt the weight of his choices pressing down on him. Irina was no longer by his side. Their love had faded, the grand gestures of romance had turned into bitterness, and in the end, Irina had moved on — leaving him to face the reality of his life.

His thoughts were interrupted by a voice. A familiar voice. His heart skipped a beat.

“Dad?”

Vasily’s head whipped around, and he froze. There, standing before him, was a young woman with long brown hair and bright, searching eyes. She was tall, slender, and carried herself with an air of confidence. For a moment, Vasily didn’t recognize her. And then it hit him — it was Lera. His daughter.

“Lera?” he asked, his voice trembling.

She nodded, her cheeks flushing with an awkward but warm smile. "It’s really you," she said softly. "I can’t believe it."

Vasily stepped forward, his heart racing. He had not seen his children in years, not since he had abandoned them. He had tried to stay involved in their lives at first, paying child support, sending birthday cards, but over time, he had fallen into the routine of avoiding them. Irina had grown irritated with him even trying to maintain contact with his past life, and so he stopped calling, stopped visiting. He convinced himself that Olya and the kids would be better off without him.

Lera’s eyes softened as she stepped closer and embraced him. Her hug was tentative, like she wasn’t sure how to feel. Vasily held her tightly, his mind racing with emotions he didn’t know how to process.

“Lera, I… I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “For everything.”

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him. “For what?”

“For leaving,” he said, the words escaping in a rush. “For not being there. For not calling, not being a father to you.”

Lera’s smile faltered. She took a step back, running her fingers through her hair. “We were angry, at first, yeah. But… we let it go. Mom never said anything bad about you. She just… moved on.”

Vasily’s chest tightened at her words. He had expected bitterness, anger — but Lera’s calmness, her ability to move past the pain, caught him off guard.

“Your mom… how is she?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“She’s happy,” Lera replied, her tone casual but with a note of certainty. “She’s working at a kindergarten now, loves it. She’s doing well, Dad. She’s… really happy.”

A pang of regret shot through Vasily, deeper than he had ever imagined. He had left Olya, thinking that he was chasing a better life. And now, years later, he had nothing but regret.

“And… she’s not alone?” Vasily asked cautiously.

Lera shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “No, she’s not. She’s with someone now. A good man.”

The words hit Vasily like a physical blow. The idea of Olya moving on with someone else, building a life without him, stung. He had no right to feel betrayed — but the ache in his chest was undeniable.

“Denis is getting married soon,” Lera continued, her voice light. “He’s invited you to the wedding. You should really call him. I’ll give you his number.”

Vasily’s heart skipped a beat. His son, Denis, was getting married. He hadn’t even known. He had been so caught up in his own selfishness, in his own guilt, that he had completely missed these milestones in his children’s lives.

Without hesitation, Vasily took the number, dialing it as soon as he got into his car. The phone rang twice before Denis picked up.

“Hello?”

“Denis? It’s me… Dad.”

There was a long pause before Denis spoke. “Dad? I… didn’t expect to hear from you.”

Vasily winced. “I know. I’m sorry. I… I wanted to say I’m proud of you. And I’d love to be there for your wedding.”

After a moment of silence, Denis replied, his voice softer. “I didn’t think you’d want to come. But… it’s fine. You’re invited.”

And so, a few days later, Vasily found himself standing in a crowded reception hall, surrounded by strangers, unsure of where he fit in. He had come for Denis, come to try and make amends, but the weight of his past choices felt suffocating.

Then, he saw her. Olya.

She stood by the window, wearing a blue dress that accentuated her grace and poise. She had hardly changed. The same familiar features, the same warm smile. When their eyes met, time seemed to rewind. For a moment, it felt like nothing had changed.

“Hello, Vasya,” she said, her voice calm and steady, as if all the years of pain, all the broken promises, had never existed.

“You look wonderful,” Vasily said, his voice thick with emotion.

“You’ve held up well yourself,” Olya replied, her gaze softening as she looked at him.

A man approached her, draping a gentle arm around her shoulders. “Ol, aren’t you cold?”

“No, dear, I’m fine,” she said, smiling warmly. “Meet Vasya — Denis and Lera’s father.”

The man extended his hand. “Sergey.”

Vasily shook it, feeling a strange emptiness in his chest. He had no right to feel betrayed, and yet, the sight of Olya with someone else, the life she had built without him, struck him harder than he ever imagined.

He looked around the room, at his grown children, at the woman he had once loved, at the life he had lost. And he realized — some mistakes couldn’t be undone.

But for the first time in years, he saw a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he could start over. Maybe he could try to rebuild what had been shattered. But first, he would have to face the consequences of his actions and the people he had hurt along the way.

And so, Vasily stood there, amidst the laughter and celebration, knowing that while he could never undo the past, he still had a chance at redemption.