s i x t e e n || A Sentimental Gathering And Fresh Starts

|2nd February 2019|

My heartbeat suddenly escalated, the blood in my arteries flowing faster than what would be considered normal as I struggled to breathe. The information that Elliot had given to me until now in the form of bits was starting to join together to form a single verdict.

"Is he tall?" I asked Elliot out of nowhere. He looked confused by my query, so I cleared up his doubt. "Cyril. Is he tall?"

Despite not understanding why I would ask such a thing, Elliot nodded with a slight frown on his features.

But his expressions and gestures were the last things I could focus on then because by then, I had arrived at a solid conclusion. And boy did I feel like one of those protagonists from movies on self-discovery; absolutely at a loss of words to express my sentiments.

I didn't look at the frame, but pointing at it with my index finger, I asked the one question whose answer I knew meant the world to me. "That's him, isn't it? Cyril. He's my father, right?"

Elliot didn't dodge eyes with me like I had expected him to. Instead, he shifted closer to me, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped. Somehow, he seemed to understand what sort of emotional skirmish my mind was currently engaged in.

Then, he nodded.

Whether or not the tears that left my eyes after Elliot's confirmation were justified given my circumstances now, I don't know. And a part of me didn't even want to know. What's the point, anyway, in trying to find out why I was crying when I had better things to ask and worry about; like how Elliot found out, or where the person I am supposed to call dad is now, or how big or how small his family is, or even why he hasn't come to meet me until now.

"El..." I struggled with words. "El, I had no idea he still..."

Elliot nodded in understanding. He stood up from his position on the ground to sit beside me on the bed. He allowed his hands to encircle my body, after which he pulled me closer to him. My shoulder met his chest, and I leaned my head against his chest, for once not caring of what he would think of me as I sobbed endlessly.

"It's okay, Celeste. It's fine. Everything will be okay." he muttered against my head.

I couldn't place my finger of what emotion I felt, because I was feeling too many things at once. Maybe it was fear of how fast everything in my life was changing, or sadness that my mother wasn't here by me to see this day, or happiness that even if I'd lost my mother, I'd finally found out who my dad is, or gratitude towards Elliot because he has done something that I don't think any life partner has done for his other half, or hope that this is how life would remain henceforth.

I couldn't understand a single thing.

He placed both of his hands on my cheeks and gently raised my head from where it lay on his chest, securing my loose hair behind my ear. And then looking at me, asked in that ever-so-gentle voice of his. "Cel, do you remember how I used to say that you looked exactly like your mother?"

Not able to speak, I only responded with a feeble nod.

A small smile charmed Elliot's features. "He said the same when he saw your photo."

Something inside my chest was stirring at his works, making me want to throw up my thoughts, and so I did. "But Elliot, mom never told me about him and the one time that she did, she called him a..." I trailed off, knowing it would be better if I didn't tell him that my mother had called him a despicable, egoistic asshole.

She had never told me about her story. She had never told me who my father was. She had never told me why we didn't lead a life like the others. All she had told me was that she and I were each other's only family and that we were better off without anybody else's presence. Why she'd told me all this, I never had the courage to ask.

"Celeste, your mom hailed from a family that was financially not as stable as Cyril's. When your mom told Cyril that she was expecting you, he immediately asked her to move in with him so she could, you know, avail all the comforts of life that she otherwise would have to work for, even in that delicate state. And you know how your mom was; how she hated it when somebody would show her sympathy or do some favor, and so it's kinda obvious that she misunderstood Cyril's offer as a show of sympathy. As a result, she broke up with him, and although Cyril approached her several times afterward, she never accepted his apology."

Wow. I finally get to know what my mother's story is and turns out the person who she claimed was a 'despicable, egoistic asshole' was actually someone who had loved and cared for her.

My heart ached at the realization. I didn't know my mother's love for her ego was greater than her love for my father.

I shook my head, trying to eradicate the several theories that my brain was forming per minute. "That's wrong. I don't think he meant to look down upon her. He just wanted to help her." I remarked with a scowl on my face.

Elliot nodded. "Yeah..."

I wanted to be angry at my mother, I wanted her to see me from above and feel the madness that I am feeling right now because she had cared more about defending her dignity than she had imagined what my life without a father would be. But the thing is, you can't be angry at someone who isn't even alive, you know.

I think the dam behind my eyes got fractured once again, because Elliot's hand reached out to wipe my cheeks. I looked at him only to find his own eyes filled with moisture.

"Celeste, when I got to know about all of this, I planned to come back right away and never leave your side again. I told about this plan of mine to Cyril, and he told me how that would be a great idea. And when I asked him why he wouldn't come, he smiled. I still remember that smile, you know. It was sad but determined. He then asked me if I could, you know, delay my plans and help him settle his matters so we could come here together. I asked him what was more important for him than meeting his daughter who he has never met, and you know what he told me?"

I shook my head in response. Fancy Elliot asking me to guess what a person I've never met would think.

"You'll be very glad to know how much he loves you, Celeste," remarked Elliot, not really telling me what father had told him.

I smiled in response. Somehow, despite not having met my father even once, I was already starting to feel that I loved him too. It was weird how quickly my heart had willed my brain to feel such an intense emotion, but it was happening and there was no going back.

I lightly nudged Elliot's chest with my right elbow. "What was the work he wanted you to help him finish?" I asked him.

Elliot sucked in a breath. He pulled my body closer to his and placed his chin on my shoulder before locking his eyes with mine. Then, he said something I don't think I'll be able to forget for the rest of my life. "He wanted to find the guy who..." Elliot trailed off and I frowned in confusion. "The guy who, you know, did that to you before I found you..."

Elliot's gaze lowered, and so did my blood pressure.

My father wanted to find the guy who raped me.

My dropped-jaw and shocked as a tornado tempest expression must've mirrored the impact the disclosure had had on my brain, because Elliot began explaining everything to me in detail. "I didn't save only you that day, Cel. I didn't know this back then, but I had saved the most beautiful and most important part of your father that day. And I feel so proud to say that that's the best thing I've done to date."

And I feel so proud to say that you're the best thing that has happened to me, I replied internally.

"What happened after that?" I asked him with urgency once I found my voice.

"Finding him was so damn hard, Celeste. Because we knew neither what he looked like nor what he did for a living. And let's not even get started on where he could be found because we both know that this world is a very big yet very small place. But Cyril didn't give up. He kept asking me for the tiniest of details and then I recalled how you'd once mentioned to me that you'd made a report to the police station here. We came here, found the sketch that you'd asked the police to make of that guy. And that's it. We started looking for a person like the one in the drawing."

"Then? Did you find him?"

Noticing my hyper-curious attitude, Elliot gave me a breath-taking smile. "We were working without police interference because you know the speed with which the police department works, in these matters. So that alone explains why it took us three years to-"

"Three years?" I exclaimed, shocked.

Elliot nodded with patience. "Yes, three years. "

My eyes widened at the confirmation. "That's a long time."

Elliott nodded again. "I know. But we had lots of help from Frans' father. He's from the investigation department, so he kinda knew where to start and all, unlike us who looked like total illiterates in this matter," he said with a grin.

I comfortingly rubbed Elliot's arm. "But you and..." I stopped, not knowing what to call my father. Then, a term occurred to me, and I smiled before resuming. "Papa were so determined, I think that in itself is a huge achievement."

Elliot shrugged. "Maybe. I guess."

I shook my head. I swear to God, I have to be given the Guinness World Record for being the world's most distracted person. But because apart from being a distracted person, I'm also one to rectify my mistakes, I cleared my throat, getting back to the actual topic. "So you found him after three years?"

Elliot nodded. "Yeah,"

The fist-sized organ inside my chest did an aggressive happy dance at this. They all must've caused his body permanent destruction and put his mind in a state of eternal trauma. "Did you beat him up nicely?" I asked eagerly.

"No."

I frowned. Why on earth did they look for him, then? "Why not?" I asked, miffed.

Elliot chuckled, finding something about my expression very funny. "Because Cyril directly killed him."

Wait, what again?

"What?" I exclaimed in a screechy voice. My father killed him who almost killed me?

"Yeah," Elliot nodded. "He killed him."

"So you're telling me that my father, whom I get to know about after twenty-seven years of existing, is now jailed because he killed-"

Elliot placed his index finger over my lips before I could finish narrating the theory that my brain established in a matter of mere seconds. "Shush!" he voiced, manipulating his voice to make it sound like he was reprimanding me. "Quite overthinking and overanalyzing everything, will you?"

I sheepishly shrank in his lap. I looked at him through my lashes to see him smiling at my change in demeanor.

Aw, he looks like such a cuddle-able teddy.

When he comprehended from my silence that he could continue without being interrupted every now and then, he began confiding in me what had actually happened to Papa. "After Frans' father, Mr. McKinney, somehow got that guy to accept his crime, he (the criminal) sneakily snatched the gun from him (Mr. McKinney) and, you know, tried to shoot him. In a state of emergency, I pushed him (Mr. McKinney) and he (the criminal) instead shot another guy in the room. The guy whom he shot was one of the six other suspects that we'd finalized, and although we realized later that the guy who'd been shot dead hadn't been involved in your case, he too used to do the same stuff as the criminal. When the horror of killing another person of his type washed over him, he (the criminal) froze. And Cyril took this as his chance to get rid of that guy forever. After that, we kinda manipulated the whole scene in the court to make it seem like the two guys had gotten in a fight and ended up killing each other."

"Like, a behind-the-screen punishment for both the men, you mean?"

Passing me a one-shoulder shrug, Elliot shifted me in his lap. "Sort of."

There fell a sensation of peace and quiet as neither of us willed to talk after that. Elliot found a nice way to pass his time by drawing every shape that mankind has discovered up to date on my clothes. And I went back to replaying everything disclosed to me today inside my mind. I noticed how after every cycle of doing the aforementioned, things were getting a little less unhazy and a little more acceptable.

It felt nice to have been told of everything at once. Like, can you imagine my condition had things been revealed to me in installments? I sure can imagine myself looking like the product of a dihybrid cross between Albert Einstien and Gottfried Leibniz.

But because my mother isn't the same sincere, down-to-earth person like I had painted her character's image inside my mind, there was a stinging sensation inside my chest. I could only hope meeting my father would erase this uneasy feeling.

But how will I meet Papa when I don't even know where he is?

So, I asked Elliot. "Um, El," I said. He raised his head from where his fingers were drawing flowers on my arm to give me a questioning look. "Where's papa right now?"

Elliot frowned, looking as if he was going to give me the exact details of where he (papa) lived; the house/flat number, street number, area, etc. "Do you want to meet him?" he asked finally.

I narrowed my eyes at him, passing him a 'duh, obviously' look. "Is that even a question to be asked, Elliot Bryson?"

Elliot chuckled. "Sorry," he said. Then he picked me from his lap and gently placed me on the bed. "If he asks for you, will you want to talk to him on the call?" he asked me.

I shook my head. "I think I'd rather meet and then talk to him than talk to him and then meet."

"Okay. Makes sense."

Elliot turned away from me to make what I assume was a call to Papa. I heard Elliot say his share of greetings and ask what was up on the other side of the line. Papa must've told something funny because Elliot chuckled. I smiled, feeling glad that my to-be husband and father shared such a beautiful friendship. Then after taking the conversation in a rather random direction for two whole minutes, Elliot finally dropped the atom bomb and informed my father of how he had told me everything and also how I'd asked to meet him. They must've decided on a particular time because Elliot nodded. They said their goodbyes and ended the call.

As I waited in anticipation for Elliot to tell me when I'd finally meet my father, I found my nerves getting tied in a tight knot. Breathing suddenly seemed like the hardest thing in this world, and despite the temperature of the room being normal, my hands turned clammy with sweat.

Trust me to go all mentally frizzy just before meeting my father.

Elliot turned to me after putting his device away. He smiled at me; the type that has always done wonders to my heartbeat. Add to it my mental state, and I feel like overcooked pasta. Right, what great delight it is to feel like sticky pasta when you don't have your senses under your control.

"He'll be here in two minutes." Elliot apprised me.

Woah, calm down, you proactive human. Are you getting me my father or instant noodles? Even the latter takes more than just two minutes to cook completely.

Elliot looked at me as I nodded at him. "You've actually met him before today, you know?" he told me sheepishly.

"What? Really? Was I under a sleeping spell when this happened?" I exclaimed.

"No, actually you were busy punching the daylights out of me in the hospital while he was busy being the fake doctor."

My hands covered my cheeks, and my mouth, which I was certain I could fit a whole apple inside, was wide open. No wonder my doubts regarding him being an actual doctor! I reached out and slapped Elliot's arm. "How sneaky can you all get? I actually wondered back then why he didn't feel like a doctor." I said. Then, another bulb hovering over my head lit up. "And no wonder why the person in the frame looked eerily familiar when I first saw it. Despite the makeover and thick mustache, that doctor still resembled Papa!"

"Yeah, well, Cyril landed here in San Francisco a week ago and because time was passing really slowly for him and our-" Elliot pointed at the space between us to make his point clear. "-relationship remained the same old, he told me how he couldn't wait anymore to meet his granddaughter. Since he couldn't meet her during school hours like I used to, no thanks to the mid-winter break that she has this week onwards, and because you wouldn't leave Zephrine alone for even a minute, we had to resort to using the hospital plan."

Huh. What masterminds I have in my life.

I slowly nodded, giving my poor mind some time to absorb all the stunts pulled by my parent and life partner just to somehow get me to say yes.

Elliot spoke up again. "Let's go down, yeah? The others must be wondering if we've run away."

I grinned, sauntering out of his room with him by my side. As we walked down the corridor that led to the stairs which would take us down, I noticed how Elliot was deliberately moving slowly; like he was taking his time to frame something he wanted to put out.

So, I decided to help him. "What's on your mind, Elly?" I asked him, using the old feminine nickname that I used to address him as, long ago.

He emitted a wry smile at me. "You never asked me why I changed my name, you know?" he asked gradually.

Right. I had been so engrossed in finding out what Elliot had been occupied with all these years that I forgot to ask why I hadn't been able to find him despite how long and how hard I had looked for him. That's it, I'm tagging this as the question of the day. One which I forgot to ask, of course.

I nodded in agreement, passing a questioning look at him soon after. "Yeah, I almost forgot about that." I sucked in a breath, knowing another surprising fact was on its way to me. "So, tell me, Elliot Bryson. Why did you suddenly become the Aric Nithercott?" I asked, my eyebrows raised.

Elliot nodded at himself. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his tracks as we walked side-by-side. "Because," he said as if that one word was enough of a justification in itself. He turned to face me, his eyes softened. "I felt ashamed, Cel. I felt so, so guilty of leaving you alone in that condition, that there came a point where I didn't want to come back because I feared that the damage I'd caused was irreversible. So, I changed my name. Because if there was anybody who was supposed to find the other, Celeste, it was me. Not you."

I pursed my lips. To be very honest, all these years, I'd lived under the illusion that Elliot hadn't cared about us. I'd forced myself to surmise that Elliot had left us because he had seen a fault in the family that we'd found in each other's presence. Not even once did I worry about what must've forced him to take such a drastic step. It was very selfish of me, I know, but I did what I had to do to keep my fragile little heart from decaying inside my chest whilst I remained breathing.

And the worst part of it all is that when he returned after all these years, I didn't mind my manners and attitudes until now. I had been rude, so hell-bent over getting my revenge, that I almost forgot to ask why he had returned. And although I have understood and reconciled with him now, that doesn't, by any chance, blank out the fact that I have yet to apologize for my behavior.

But that's it. No more ego issues. My mother had done the same mistake and it had cost me my upbringing. To add to it, I was certain my conscience would burn my wits alive if I wouldn't express my regret towards what I have done.

"Hey, hold on," I said, drawing Elliot's attention by reaching out and holding his arm. We had reached the archway that would open into the kitchen, so if I had to say something, I had to say it now.

I brushed off his curious expression as I pulled him in a corner. For some reason, his body seemed to lack friction, leading to him bumping chest-first into me.

Our eyes locked once I recovered from the sudden collision of bodies and also the collision of my back with the wall, and seeing the intense look that seemed to have clogged Elliot's eyes in a matter of mere seconds, my heart rate escalated on its own accord.

He licked his lips, his gaze flitting between my own eyes and lips in an unstable manner. As my chest met his with every breath I took in, his hand reached up to my hair. I shivered at the impact, my own hands playing football with my clammy fingers.

He leaned in then, his sweet-smelling breath somehow making me feel more out of breath than I'd like to accept. With one hand starting to gently tug my body closer to his, and the other tilting my head with an equal amount of gentleness, he let his lips touch mine in a marshmallow-soft touch.

Then, he kissed me slowly and carefully, just the way I've always liked it. My hands went up to his shoulders for support, and I was certain that I would've slumped down the wall behind me in a molten state had it not been for his grip on my waist and my grip on his shoulders. I felt his lips stretch into a small smile against mine, as if my actions had made him happy.

After we pulled away a short while later and spend another short while trying to catch our breaths, I licked my lips, dragging my hazy mind together.

I recalled what it was that I had pulled Elliot into this corner for, and spoke up. "El, listen to me."

He looked at me, the waves in his ocean blue eyes now moving slowly, noiselessly. As I continued to look into his orbs, I realized that if there was anything I could do for the rest of my life, it was looking into those mesmerizing eyes of his. There was something about them that owned the power of escalating as well as receding my heart rate without any warning.

He moved his finger from the nape of my name to my jaw, tracing it with a faint touch and leaving me struggling to breathe in the wake of his actions. "I'm listening but you aren't even saying anything, Cel." he teased me.

I gulped, moving away from him so I could talk like a near-to-normal person. "I...I wanted to say sorry. For, you know, telling you all those things and misbehaving when everything you've done all these days is just to get me back."

Elliot slowly shook his head. "No, love. I didn't do it for you. I did it for myself. Because whether or not I like it," Elliot sucked in a breath. "I am nothing without you."

I bit my lip. "Just like I am nothing without you?"

He smiled. "Sure. Something like that."

I gave him my best toothy grin, electrified to an extent where I felt an entire zoo inside my stomach as I reached down and intertwined our fingers. I nodded at the kitchen before continuing, "I'm sure they've concluded by now that we've run away."

El chuckled, raising our laced fingers and placing a kiss atop my knuckles. My breathing hastened when he did that, but before I could reach the state of hyperventilation, he moved away from me, simultaneously pulling me as he entered the kitchen.

The large room served as a multipurpose place; as a kitchen as well as a diner. I looked around the place, noticeably in awe of how modern its making, as well as the types of equipment, were. Maybe I could now make the dishes I never made in my apartment due to the lack of appliances.

Elliot walked ahead of me, dragging me with him, and towards the three people sitting on the dining table with their backs to us. They all seemed spellbound by the cookies they were eating, so they didn't even turn around to acknowledge our presence.

The plate of chocolate cookies in front of them was large, yet it was half-empty already.

Either Elliot and I had spent too much time in the room or these people hadn't eaten since the past three days, and because the latter isn't the case here, it has to be the former.

He let go of my hand as he reached the table and stood behind Zephrine. Bending over the chair from behind, "The cookies are nice, princess?" he asked Zeph, smiling.

There was a thing about the smile that Elliot gave Zephrine; like it was reserved only for her. It was one that held a sense of pride, adoration, and genuine happiness, and every time I saw him give it to her, my theory that Elliot loves her just as much as he loves me only got proved further.

"Aric! Hi!" exclaimed Zephrine, happily. She leaned over the table, and with great difficulty, picked lots of cookies.

I laughed, wondering what she would do with so many. Surely she wouldn't eat them all because the last time she'd consumed so many cookies, she'd suffered from severe constipation. Plus, I don't think she is foolish enough to repeat her mistake.

And I was right. She didn't. Leaving only one on her plate, she stood on her chair to face Elliot and me. She passed me two cookies, and with a grin, said: "Two for mommy."

Then, she turned to Elliot and passed him the double number of cookies. "And four for Prince," she said, giving him a toothy grin.

My face contorted to form a frown. "What, only two for mommy and four for your prince?" I asked her.

She innocently shook her head at me, her eyes widening. "Mommy, you never eat more than two. And Aric always eats four," as if it was possible, her grin only widened at this point. "Like me."

My eyebrows rose in the air, my lips turning down in appreciation of her memory. I was about to tell her how I was willing to break my streak today and have four cookies as well when Elliot nudged me. I turned only to find him casting me a teasing smile.

"C'mon, Celeste. Don't be so jealous. It's okay, life's gonna be like this henceforth. You should get used to it."

I chuckled. "I'm not jealous, Mr. Prince." I smiled at him. "It's actually a good thing that she knows her father's choices as well as she knows mine."

Elliot's expression faltered at my sentence, and I frowned. He huddled closer to me, looking tense. "Celeste," I heard him whisper to me softly so nobody would hear him. "I-I haven't told her that I'm her... er, father."

My frown intensified. "What? Why not?" I asked him, not really keeping my voice low.

If that's the case, then Zephrine is going to see Elliot as her father for the first time today; just like I am going to see my own, in a few minutes.

Elliot's body moved closer to mine, and if his body language was anything to go by, then he looked uneasy. "I dunno... I guess I wanted you to do it?" he voiced with uncertainty.

I gave him a gentle smile. How much more mindful can he get? I nodded at Zephrine, telling him with my eyes that I was to do what he wanted me to do, now. "Zeph," I said. "C'mere."

When she got off her chair and approached me, I bent down to her height and placed my palms on my knees. Then, pointing at Elliot, I finally began breaking the truth to her. "You know who this is?"

She grinned. "He's my friend!"

I chuckled. "I know. But he is also your father. Okay?"

She looked confused by my claim. With the frown still intact, she asked me the doubt on her mind. "But mom," she began, her thin lips settling in a pout. "Didn't you say you're my father as well as my mother?"

To say I turned red with embarrassment would be an understatement of the century, because as my hands flew to cover my crimson face, and I got a reaction from the three adults in the room, I was sure I turned almost purple.

As expected, Elliot was the first to react. "Really, Celeste? You went to such an extent?"

Sighing loudly, Dave said: "No wonder childhood is such an innocent phase. Children tend to believe what they are made to believe. Take this stuff for example."

Jael was the last one to react, but her reply didn't do anything to pacify my growing embarrassment. "Wow, Celeste. I had no clue I lived with a hermaphrodite."

Elliot threw his head back, laughing loudly.

I threw my hands in the air, red-faced. "Shut up, Jael!" I yelled. Then, turning to Elliot, I snapped. "She had to write an essay on her parents in grade one, Elliot. It was that day when she had to write her father's name that she asked me who her father was. What was I to say? That he had gotten up and left when she was just three days old? No, right? So I told her that I was her father as well as her mother."

Elliot's expression changed after his brain interpreted my outbreak; it softened with guilt. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

I waved my hand in the air in a dismissive manner. The fact that Elliot understood why I'd told her such stuff was enough to cool my anger down. "Nah, don't bother." I lowered my eyes to Zephrine who stood between us. I nodded at her, "I told you that because he was away and I didn't want you to miss him very much."

Zephrine shot me a solemn nod, looking as if she understood everything I was telling her.

"So, what're you gonna call him?" I quizzed her.

Zephrine suddenly looked thoughtful, like she was trying to solve a problem with adding fractions. She then placed her index finger on her chin and tapped it. She tipped her head towards Elliot after she had finally decided. "I have many friends who call their fathers daddy, dad, papa. Mason, my best friend calls his father pops. What do you want me to call you?" she asked him. She looked so cutely serious then, I had to suppress the urge to not to reach out and cuddle her.

I turned to Elliot, and I could swear on my life that I saw him gulp before his eyes filled up with moisture. I think there was something contagious about his tears because my own vision became hazy as I looked at him.

After he finally found his voice, "What do you always call me?" he gently quizzed her, tilting his head to the side.

Zeph considered his question for a moment. Subsequently, as she found her answer, she snapped her fingers. "Prince!"

Elliot's lips quirked upwards. "That's what I want you to call me."

At that moment, watching my daughter and my fiancee share such beautiful, such innocently gorgeous smiles, my heart threatened to explode inside my chest. I bit my lip when Elliot bent down to carry Zephrine. He stood back up and placed a fond kiss on her cheek. She shied away, hiding her face in the crook of his neck as she giggled.

Elliot stretched his hand outward, sending me a silent invitation to join him and Zephrine in a group hug. I grinned, walking up to him and wrapping one arm around him and the other around the beautiful angel that we had the privilege of calling our daughter.

One after the other, Elliot leaned forward to place a kiss atop both of our heads. "I love you both so much." he muttered against our heads. As if it was possible, my smile only widened at his confession.

I snuggled closer to him, relishing in the warmth of his body.

"Aw, this moment so calls for a family photo!" I heard Jael gush, and Dave squeaked in response. She produced her phone from her pocket as she walked up to us. She took a stand beside me while Dave stood beside Elliot. She raised her phone in the air, posing for a selfie. "Show me your teeth, everyone!" she exclaimed in good spirits.

I think she snapped a picture, or maybe she didn't, because just then a crashing sound from behind us caused her to pull her am back down in surprise. We all turned towards the source of the noise and saw pieces of broken vase scattered in the lounge.

But that wasn't what caught my attention. It was a man clad in a white cardigan and blue jeans that had actually captured my interest. His back was turned towards us as he bent down, reaching out to quickly pick up the pieces of the broken china. He kept muttering "Shit, shit, shit..." as he worked.

His hair seemed gray under the warm lights, his back still facing me. I gulped.

Because that's him.

That's my father there.

"Shit, guys, I'm so sorry..." he apologized, not looking at any of us. Then, chuckling, he added, "I guess I'm just feeling a little anxious today cause-" he worked more hastily when a help approached him with a sweep set. Something about his actions told me that he himself wanted to clean up the mess he'd created. "-hey, no no," he said to the help. "I'll do it. It's okay."

And so he did it himself, till the floor looked clearer than it did before (if such a thing is even possible in this house).

Then, he turned.

I don't know what had gotten into me that I suddenly turned around as well. Maybe I was scared, or maybe I was overreacting; I don't know for sure. What I do know, though, is that my heart was going all Usain Bolt when it came to pumping out blood, and my hands slightly shivered by my sides.

"Hey," I heard him greet from behind me. His voice was familiar, because like Elliot had said, I'd met him when he was busy playing fake doctor. I don't know who the greeting was directed to, but from the slow replies that he got in return, it seemed to be general in nature.

I had no clue if it is normal to feel this jittery when meeting one's long lost father, but since it's happening in my case, I think it is.

However, when I heard his footsteps getting louder and eventually stop a small distance from me, and Elliot simultaneously put Zephrine down, I knew it was time to meet the person who has spent three whole years of his life just to find and kill the person who had assaulted me despite never having met me in person.

"That's her, right?" I heard papa ask. He sounded breatheless, and I felt grateful that it wasn't just me hyperventilating; that this feeling is mutual.

I assume he was pointing at me, because Elliot spared me a glance before nodding at him.

Recalling only now how it isn't the best of manners to turn one's back on elders, I willed myself to veer around.

I can't really explain the situation that overcame me after that. Maybe I stopped breathing for the next minute as I discerened his humble posture, or maybe I teared up looking at his soft features, or maybe he whispered something along the lines of "Hey, don't cry..." and I disobeyed him by crying even more.

I remember addressing him as Papa, causing fresh tears to stain his cheeks, and I think he called my name afterwards- I'm not sure, I wasn't in a state of understanding things said to me.

My legs moved on their own accord and towards him in a quick motion.

And then I hugged him.

At the back of my mind, I has expected the hug to feel at least a little awkward but no, it wasn't. And I'm going to be completely honest, it was of a type that I hadn't ever got in my life; warm, and tight, and soothing in a way that my frayed nerves finally came under control.

I think I cried a lot, meaning there was lots of runny-nose fluid on his sweater.

He pulled away, holding my face between his palms. "My beautiful child." was all he said.

It was then that I realized that 'I love you' isn't really the golden statement. As a matter of fact, from the way my heart did wild happy dances inside my chest at his words, I realized that the first lesson my father has unknowingly taught me in person is that anything that has the potential of making someone feel happy and makes their day go better is a golden word/phrase/statement in itself.

And Papa just told me his golden words.

It was then that I realized how staying mad at my mother wouldn't change anything about my past. As a matter of fact, it would be me and not her, who'd keep on suffering ahead in life because I was unwilling to let go of my grudges and accept the beautiful things lying right in front of me.

So, then and there, I forgave her. Maybe once I die and we meet, I can ask her about why she did what she did. And maybe, like Elliot, even she'd have her own reasons. You never know, you know?

Our smiles towards each other were fully bloomed, and there came a point where my cheeks almost hurt from smiling so much. But today's the big day, and on big days, one is supposed to ignore hurting cheeks and smile like there is no tomorrow.

He dropped his hands from my face after placing a kiss on my forehead.

Then, I introduced him to my non-biological family- Dave and Jael. All three of them looked equally elated about meeting one another.

"Papa, this is Zephrine." I said, pointing at the girl holding my left hand. She looked sheepish as he turned to her, wide-eyed with excitement. "Your granddaughter."

Papa groaned in happiness before leaning down and playfully picking Zephrine in his arms. "Ah," he exclaimed, juggling Zeph in his arms, and she giggled in response. He smiled at her, "Now this is what I call personal favorites." he then turned to me. "You know what I mean, Celeste?"

I nodded. Talking to my father is my officially latest favorite task. "Of course." I looked at Zeph. She was really happy. Guess its time to make her even more happy with another familial addition, yeah? "Zeph, princess, this is your granddaddy, okay?"

"Grandaddy? As in... prince's father, mom?" she asked me.

I laughed. "No, no. Elliot's father is-"

"Elliot's father is right here!" I heard someone exclaim from behind Papa. I peeked over his shoulder to find none other than Elliot's own father!

Now my family feels complete.

Elliot cleared his throat from where he sat on the sofas. "About time, Mr. Nithercott." he reprimanded his father with a fake scowl on his face, tapping his watch as he spoke.

Mr. Nithercott threw a bunch of keys at Elliot. "We asked you to accompany us but you refused to. Anyway, your loss. We had lots of fun. Your mother and I went to a hotel first, and then we went to the park after-"

I saw Mrs. Nithercott playfully slap her husband's arm at this, chuckling. "Stop misguiding him, will you?"

Elliot rose from the plush sofas and made his way towards his parents. "Oh, no. It's okay, mom. Today's a happy day. I'm eternally grateful that I stayed back, actually." he told her, winking at me.

I grinned because even I had thought the same a while ago.

Dad (I'm going to call him dad as well) shifted his weight from one leg to the other, frowning. "And why is that?"

Elliot's grin was brain-boggling as he looked at me. "Because your son has finally managed to convince the girl he has always loved into becoming his life partner."

Mr. Nithercott looked pleasantly surprised. "What? Really?" he asked, turning to his friend (Papa) for confrmation.

Papa looked as excited as his company. "Took him long, but yeah. The undertaking is finally over. My daughter has handed her heart out to your son."

"Wow!" Dad exclaimed. "No wonder everyone looked so happy when we returned from the hospital."

"Oh, this surely calls for a celebration! And guess what? I'll take charge of the kitchen department for today," mom said, rubbing her palms against each other in excitement.

Her small eyes met mine, and she cast me the most generous smile I've ever seen her give anybody. "The girl who has handed her heart out to my son," she addressed me in good spirits. "Would you mind lending me a hand in the kitchen?"

I shook my head, a chuckle leaving my throat because of the voice modification that mom had employed. She grinned in response, quickly waving at me to follow her into the kitchen.

As I made my way towards the said room, "What did the doctor say, dad?" I heard Elliot ask his father, his tone a little serious.

I turned around just in time to see Dad shooting Elliot a dazzling grin. "Everything is finally getting better, son," he said.

I had a feeling that it wasn't just his medical reports that dad was talking about; he was being general here. He was referring to mine and Elliot's reconciliation, he was referring to mine and papa's conciliation, he was referring to Zephrine's and Elliot's conciliation as father and daughter, he was referring to papa and Zephrine's conciliation as grandfather and granddaughter.

He was referring to all those important things in life that were finally getting back on track.

I smiled as I walked towards the kitchen, the sensation of everything falling back into place just the way I'd imagined nine years ago bringing a sense of victory to my mind.

The elders were right when they said that everything will be okay in the end. And that if it's not okay, then it's not the end.

And although this isn't my end yet, I'm sure that with all these people around me, my end will be one goddamn memorable one for the generations to come.

~ ~ ~

I weaved my way through the crowd of people who had turned into my family in a matter of mere hours.

The thing, you see, is that regardless of what I wanted to call Elliot after our marriage, I wanted to know what he wanted me to call him because let's face it, there's absolutely no joy in calling your husband something that you personally like when he'd rather want to be called something else.

And maybe I can call him what I like but he doesn't, when I'm angry at him, so the change in term of address can add intensity to my anger.

"Hey, Elliot," I said when I reached his sitting figure by the sofas. He was talking to Papa about something I had no clue of, when both the men saw my presence. Papa excused himself, got up, passed me a dazzling smile, and left us to be alone.

There was a thing about Papa; he was very understanding. He knew when it would be right to give his say in a conversation and he knew when it would be best for him to leave the conversation. I smiled at his retreating figure, feeling so proud to call him my father.

It didn't matter to me how late I'd met him, how my time with him will be less as compared to what it would've been had I grown up with him. Because now, all that actually mattered was that I had met him.

"I'm sure you didn't come here just to look at dad's back, Cel," Elliot commented from where he sat.

I turned to face him. "Dad, huh?" I asked him with an East-to-West grin pasted over my lips. Elliot going all family-family even before our marriage is just so adorable and lovable.

Elliot crossed his arms over his chest, doing the same with his feet as a lazy grin made it over to his face. "Just a matter of days until we officially share everything aside from just each other's families, Celeste. So I'm gonna start practicing it all now itself. I think you should do the same."

I chuckled. "Okay, will do," I said. Then remembering why I'd actually come here, I added. "Hey, by the way, about why I came here. Um, well, I wanna know what you'd like me to call you. You know, Elliot or Aric. I personally like Elliot because-"

"That's it. You got your answer."

"But I wanna know what you want to be called," I said, pouting.

Elliot smiled, tilting his head to the left. "I wanna be called what you wanna call me," he said, earning a proud grin from me. This boy will be the death of my stubbornness. "I didn't come here with a set of rules, Celeste. You do what you wanna do. I won't stop you from anything unless you won't stop loving me."

I sat on the couch, close to him. Ready to tease him, I deliberately asked, "And...what will you do if I stop loving you?"

Elliot's grin was naughty as he leaned in and whispered. "Everything I can to make you start loving me once again."

I chuckled at the mischief shining in his eyes. "Just like you did it this time?"

He nodded in agreement. "Yes, but a lot more."

I leaned back, resting my head over his shoulder. I turned to look at him from this new position. "How confident were you about us, you know, getting back together?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Not much, actually. Like, c'mon, Celeste, keeping the whole 'trust your love' theory aside, let's face the fact that we live in the twenty-first century where two people who claim to love each other do everything two people in a romantic relationship can do one night, only to break up the next day. And nothing of that sort had ever happened in our case so I couldn't even say with guarantee that there was something that would keep you emotionally bound to me all this while. And because I was on a whole different continent with people who had no contacts with you, I really had no clue what had happened here when I was away. And don't even get me started on that burning fear that somebody might've taken up my role in your life-"

"Come to think of it; what would you have done had that been the case?" I asked. I seem to be on a roll of asking Elliot about his plan B's had things not worked out according to his plan A's.

Elliot didn't hesitate for even a millisecond before answering my question, his eyes narrowing to send me a duh-look. "Get rid of the obstacle separating you from me, of course."

I rolled my eyes. Trust Elliot to go all out and cliché just to get me to be his. "That's heartening to know."

Elliot shifted closer to me, a slight frown on his forehead. I loved it so much when he had this serious expression on his face. He looked so damn sexy. "Hey, just for information purpose; did you ever get into another- you know what, after I left?"

I wanted to lie at this point just to tease him, but seeing the expectant look on his face, my conscience threatened to flip me over were I to pull his leg, even if it was only for the sake of attaining joy from emotionally torturing him. "So I could experience the pain of heartbreak once again?" I rolled my eyes carelessly. "No, thank you."

Elliot placed his free hand over his chest and let out a dramatic sigh. From the looks of it, had I misguided Elliot into thinking that I had gotten into another relationship, he would've either killed the non-existent guy or made sure I never stayed within a thousand kilometer's radius from where he lived. None of which was possible anyway because the guy himself was a figment of my imagination. "Oof," he voiced. "Thank God."

I held my lower lip between my two sets of teeth to keep myself from smiling as I asked him the question I already knew the answer to. C'mon, Olwyn hadn't visited me earlier today just to drink tea with me. "And I suppose the same's your case?"

Elliot's smile was breath-taking as he turned to me completely. "There was, is, and will always be only you, Celeste Wilson."

There's a thing about knowing the truth from some third party and another thing altogether about someone special confessing it to you. And the flushed cheeks and respiratory issues that follow the confession in the latter case, ladies and gentlemen, is what differentiates the former from the latter. "Just like you're mine and I'm only yours?" I still asked, feeling in the mood to hear and say cheesy stuff.

He licked his lips, his gaze soft and silvery on me. "Exclusively yours," he told me.

A while of serene silence passed as I allowed my mind to imbibe his promises. But as I said, I was in the mood today, so it wasn't long before I spoke up again. "So, to sum up; you were just, you know, playing by your chances?"

"Well, that's basically why I became friends with Zephrine before actually coming to you. I needed someone to tell me the little things about you and your lifestyle and everyone you kept contacts with. But yes, you're right. I was playing by my chances. Though, to highlight how adventurous this journey of being kissed on the first day and then punched on the next day, I'd rather say that in the end, I'd come to a point where I was literally swaying by the odds."

I rolled my eyes, but the way Elliot had put everything into words, I couldn't help but throw my head back and laugh. "How adventurous is that, Mr. Nithercott."

"Yes, ma'am," Elliot nodded at me, plastering a solemn look over his straight features. "Swaying by the odds is indeed adventurous."

*THE END*

this chapter is super duper long but its the last one and you know me and my freaky fetish for long chapters, so here we go. I'll tell you all everything about how much your support and how much this book means to me in the next chapter which is the author's note.
Stay home, stay safe.