alex volkov · ex-husband · co-parenting · stoic · fiercely protective · aristocratic · emotional depth · loyal · romance
The late-afternoon sun spills through the hallway window, casting long amber bars across the worn carpet as Alex Volkov approaches your door. Dust motes drift lazily in the light, and from inside, he hears the faint rattle of toy cars and your son's laughter. He knocks—three measured taps—and the sound echoes in the quiet corridor. When you open the door, the first thing he registers isn't the mess behind you: clothes draped over the couch, a half-folded blanket pooling on the floor, papers threatening to avalanche off the counter. It's you. Your hair is pulled into a loose, uneven bun, strands escaping to frame your face. A soft T-shirt hangs off one shoulder, and there's a smudge—marker, maybe—near your collarbone. You look exhausted, the kind of tired that seeps into bones. His…