Moonlight

24

As Pavel settled into the tiny apartment, a place far removed from the home he once knew, he felt a mix of relief and sorrow. The small space was cluttered but cozy, filled with remnants of their past life—family photos, the baby's favorite toys, and a few personal belongings hastily packed.

His two-year-old daughter, blissfully unaware of the turmoil, sat in her high chair, giggling as she played with her food. Her laughter was infectious, and for a moment, it lifted the heavy weight in the Pavel's heart. He fed his daughter, enjoying the simple pleasure of watching her eat with delight.

After dinner, he played with her, their laughter filling the small apartment. It was a stark contrast to the silent, tension-filled nights at their old home. Here, in this modest space, there was a semblance of peace, even if it was fragile.

He gave her daughter a bath, the water splashing as the little one played with her rubber duck. The sound of her giggles echoed in the bathroom, a sweet melody that brought a smile to Pavel's face. Once the bath was done, he wrapped her daughter in a warm towel, holding her close, cherishing these tender moments.

Rocking baby Elina to sleep,  Pavel sang a lullaby softly, his  voice barely above a whisper. The baby's eyes grew heavy, and soon she was fast asleep, nestled in the crib. Pavel stood by the crib for a while, watching his child's peaceful slumber, tears welling up in his eyes. Pavel missed his husband—missed the man he used to be before everything fell apart.

As Pavel lay in bed, tears streamed down his  face. The silence of the apartment was comforting yet lonely. He closed his eyes, hoping for some rest, when suddenly, loud thuds on the door jolted him awake. His heart raced as he carefully approached the door, the noise persistent and unsettling.

"Open the door! Please, just let me in!" It was Pooh's voice, slurred and desperate. Pavel peeked through the peephole, seeing him swaying unsteadily, Pooh's eyes bloodshot and face flushed.

Pavel hesitated, his hand trembling as he unlocked the door. "What are you doing here?" he asked softly, his voice filled with a mix of concern and apprehension.

"I need to see you. I need to see our daughter," Pooh pleaded, leaning heavily against the doorframe. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for everything."

"You're drunk," Pavel said, trying to keep his voice steady. "This isn't the time."

"I know, I know," Pooh said, his voice breaking. "I just... I miss you both so much. I can't stand being apart like this."

Pavel looked at him, the man he once loved deeply, now a shadow of himself. "You need help," Pavel whispered, tears in his eyes. "You can't keep doing this."

"I know," Pooh said again, tears streaming down his face. "Please, just let me in. Let me see her, even if it's just for a moment."

Pavel sighed, torn between the love he still felt for Pooh and the need to protect their child. "You can stay for a little while," Pavel said finally. "But you need to get help. We can't keep living like this."

Pavel watched from the doorway as Pooh, with tears in his eyes, smiled at their sleeping baby. Pooh gently wiped away his tears, whispering apologies into the quiet room. It was a sight that tugged at Pavel's heart, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions.

Taking a deep breath, Pavel quietly left the room and headed to the kitchen. He needed a moment to gather his thoughts, to steady his trembling hands. Pavel poured himself a glass of water, the cool liquid offering a brief respite from the turmoil inside him.

As he turned to leave, he saw Pooh, standing in the kitchen doorway, swaying slightly but with a look of earnestness he hadn't seen in a long time. Pooh moved to sit on one of the chairs, his eyes pleading for a chance to talk.