Love in Politics ( PoohPavel)

20

Pavel couldn't focus even after he came home. The image of Pooh's tear-streaked face haunted him, making it impossible to concentrate. He tried to distract himself by playing with his three-year-old daughter, Prim, but the guilt and sorrow lingered.

As he played, Pavel's mind kept drifting back to the garden, to Pooh's hurt expression. He took out his mobile to call Pooh but, with a heavy sigh, set it aside. His heart ached, but he couldn't bring himself to make the call.

Observing him closely, his wife Jacqueline asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing much," Pavel replied, trying to avoid her eyes.

Jacqueline took a sip of her wine, her gaze sharp and knowing. "Pavel, it had to be just a one-night stand. You can't have another affair."

Pavel's frustration bubbled to the surface. "Why not? Why can't I have another one with someone I love?"

Jacqueline chuckled, a bitter sound. "If you have another affair, you might leave me and Prim. I won't let that happen. I never said you couldn't fuck other girls, but to have an affair? Isn't that too much?"

Pavel's anger flared. He slammed the wine glass from Jacqueline's hand, the glass shattering on the floor. "Stop messing with my head! I hate you!"

As he turned around, he saw Prim standing in the doorway, tears streaming down her face. The sight of his daughter's fear and confusion cut through his anger like a knife.

Prim ran to him, hugging his legs tightly. "Papa, don't yell."

Pavel sighed deeply, his anger dissipating as he bent down to scoop Prim into his arms. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Daddy didn't mean to scare you."

He hugged her tightly, feeling her small body tremble against his. Carrying Prim, Pavel walked to her room, feeling the weight of his emotions crushing him. He laid her down gently on her bed, staying with her until she fell asleep, her breathing evening out into a peaceful rhythm.

Quietly, he stood and walked to his own bedroom, where Jacqueline was still sitting, her face turned away. She wiped her tears secretly, trying to maintain her composure.

"Jacqueline..." Pavel began, but she cut him off.

"Don't," she said, her voice trembling. "Just... don't."

Pavel sighed, the exhaustion and emotional turmoil weighing heavily on him. He climbed into bed, turning away from Jacqueline, his mind still racing with thoughts of Pooh and the mess his life had become.

As he lay there, staring at the ceiling, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had lost something precious, something he might never get back. And the image of Pooh's tear-streaked face haunted him, a constant reminder of the love and regret he now carried.