Six years ago, the woman stood beneath a flickering streetlamp, half her face hidden behind a worn brown scarf. Her hands were tucked beneath a coat far too big for her, trembling from the cold. Her expression was blank—almost like a war veteran stripped of all emotion, shaped by a life that had never shown her mercy.
They called her Malorie, the unlucky woman who seemed cursed in every gentle thing.
Every night, she returned to that same spot. Always in the biting winter. Always silent, staring straight ahead.
People said she was strange—perhaps even unhinged. But to the homeless who had known her since she was a child, Malorie was simply a pitiful woman born to parents who had never outgrown their own youth.
Before she even turned ten, her mother abandoned her with a string of words that offered nothing but false hope.
"Sweetheart, I'll be back. Don't go anywhere."
But those words were never kept. Her mother never returned, and the winter's frost gnawed at her small body until she was found by an elderly homeless woman—kind-hearted despite the world's cruelty—who cared for her with whatever goodness she had left.
That night, however, was different. For the first time, she met the man who would alter the course of her life. Without knowing it, she became the first and last love of that man: Jonathan Birlly, owner of a luxury car showroom.
Malorie—no, her real name was Ellea. Something she had never dared to dream became her destiny.
Beside Jonathan, she found happiness—the reason she was born, the reason she existed at all.
Now, it was their first year of marriage. In the Birlly residence, nestled on a hillside with a breathtaking view far from the city's noise, Jonathan relaxed on the bedroom balcony, sipping an espresso while watching the peaceful morning unfold.
Then Ellea appeared, settling herself on his lap, one hand hidden behind her small frame.
"Hmm. What are you hiding?" Jonathan asked, brushing his fingers gently along her waist.
Ellea smiled sweetly. "I don't know how to say it," she whispered, clutching something in her closed hand. "But… don't be disappointed if I'm wrong."
Jonathan frowned, curious. "Show me. I promise I won't be disappointed."
With careful fingers, Ellea opened her hand—a pregnancy test marked with two faint lines. Her eyes shimmered, though a shadow of fear lingered there.
Jonathan stared for a heartbeat. Then his expression softened. He pulled her into a tight embrace, pressing a kiss to her forehead, then her cheek.
"You… really wanted to tell me now?"
Ellea nodded, her smile shy but glowing. "I… wanted you to be the first to know," she murmured.
Jonathan gazed into her eyes, feeling a whirl of fear, wonder, and joy.
"We'll be alright," he said softly. "I'm here. Always."
Under the gentle morning sunlight, on that quiet balcony, they laughed, embraced, and shared a small moment that felt like a miracle.
But to Ellea, miracles were fragile. She knew how swiftly life could shift, how happiness often arrived hand in hand with the deepest fears.
And to Jonathan, in that very moment, he made a silent vow—whatever happened, he would protect her.
Yet fate seemed to hold a different plan, something that would test their love far more than either of them could ever imagine.