Soft breeze welcomes my smile as I lock my car door. I've been promenading around Central London for almost four hours, visiting places, taking pictures, and at last I managed to visit the British Museum. My afternoon has been eventful today, and it's much better than staying indoors.

Beneath the winter sky I find the day beautiful despite the odds in my life.

Being surrounded with nature has always been the best way in dealing with my demons as far as my stressful situations are concerned. Trees, grasses, birds, and people's laughter become a balm for the pangs of my disappointed heart.

Hyde's Park is enormous, like a large expanse of natural green with clean air and fresh breeze. I set my camera and take another shot of the small trail on which I've been walking through. It's a dusty foot walkway that's embedded by a set of trees on either side.

My stop is where several kids are playing merrily on the open ground. I take several pictures of them and stand aside for a while, watching them with a smile as they kick a ball in turns. My heart melts at the sight, a little jealous of their moms for having them.

Will I get the chance to bring my daughter or son to the park someday? I take a deep breath as I'd rather not dwell.

I find a wooden bench and take a seat. Frankly, I never thought there would be a time in my life that I would want, so badly, to become a mother. Not even once. But life surely is unpredictable, because now I do. I recline back and cross my legs comfortably, watching the kids.

There's something about children I hadn't noticed before. Taking my time looking at them right now, studying their every move, I see the special ability bestowed upon them to make the world a fascinating place. I feel mindless, happy even, hearing how they talk and interact.

"I'm not playing that. It's for little girls." A tiny voice shifts my attention, only to learn that I have a neighbor.

A young girl, about four or five, takes a seat next to me. She's pouting, her arms crossed on her chest. Fair skin, dusky brown hair, silky and wavy, and . . . blue eyes? I smile when I look at her, and I wonder how my little girl would look if she gets Liam's eyes.

Stop it, Kira! I shake my head and pull myself together.

"Hey there." I regard my little sulking neighbor.

"Hello," she replies sharply, and just like most of the people I meet here, her accent is charming. "Is that a camera?" Her eyes glow instantly.

"Mmm." I nod, looking at the camera on my lap. "Do you want to see it?"

"Can I?" she quips.

"Of course." I scoot closer to her and share the sight of my new camera—which is my gift from Liam.

The little girl seems infatuated, a bright grin painted constantly on her face. With pleasure, I show her how the camera works, and after a while I let her take a few pictures.

"Wow! This is so cool!" she squeals in glee, glancing up at me. "Look, has it come out good?" She shows me the image she's just captured.

"Oh, yes. You're a fast learner." I pat her curls.

"Yeah, but your pictures are so good," she replies and I just smile. "Did you take more?"

"Um . . . Yeah. I think I took so many pictures today," I reply while holding the camera in my hands, going through the recent folder. "Do you wanna see them?"

She nods fast. We sit even closer and go through the albums. We laugh from time to time and get immersed into the moment.

"The London bridge! So cool!" The little girl's eyes flash as she goes through the album of my recently taken pictures. "The mummy! Is this a museum?" She gazes up at me, seemingly fascinated by the Egyptian artifacts.

"Hmm, it's a museum. I took that earlier today. I suppose you've been in the museum, right" I smile down at her.

She shakes her head. "No, I've never been in a museum. Thank you," she mutters as she returns my camera.

"You're welcome. Do you love photography?" I inquire, and the girl nods brightly. "Oh really? I have loved taking pictures ever since I was your age."

"Really? I guess I'll only do it when I grow up. I don't have a camera," the girl says while throwing her feet up and down in the air. "You were crying. Are you okay? Did someone hurt you?" she suddenly asks, changing the subject when I least expect it.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Maybe something pricked in my eye," I reply softly and curiosity grows as we keep talking. I discern that I don't even know her name. "What's your name?" I decide to ask her.

"Elizabeth. But I don't like it," she answers straight.

I smile. "Why don't you like it? I think it's a pretty name. The Queen's name, by the way! How cool is that, huh?"

"Mmm—yeah. But I like Victoria. When I grow up I'll change my name." She smiles dreamily at me.

I chuckle lightly. "You have a lot to do when you grow up, don't you?"

"Of course I do," she replies automatically. "I going to—"

"Elizabeth?" Someone calls, interrupting our smooth exchange.

Following the voice, we see a blonde woman in a sweater, boots, and a long skirt approaching. She looks agitated for a while, her eyes searching around.

"Over here!" My neighbor shouts.

"Oh you! Hurry up, honey, we're leaving!" The woman yells with an impatient wave.

It must be her mother. A bit disappointed, I glanced back at Elizabeth. "Maybe some other time?" I smile feebly.

"Okay." She bobs her head. "I come here every weekend. Do you come here often?" she asks hurriedly while standing up from the bench.

"Um, not really. But I can drop by from time to time," I reply.

Frankly, I like this park.

Before leaving, much to my surprise, Elizabeth pulls her green, old-looking scarf and tentatively moves closer to me. I get no time to register her intentions when she gingerly wraps it around my neck, a cute grin on her face.

"Now you won't catch a cold. I live nearby so I shall be fine," Elizabeth tells me softly.

"Oh?" I'm at a loss for words.

"Bye!" She waves her little hand and runs away.

"Bye. And thanks, Lizzy," I mutter and a smooth sigh slides out of my lips.

I think it's my time to go, too. It's getting late. Slowly I grab my camera and take a walk back to where I left my car. Maybe I got a short break from the tempest in my life, but has anything changed.

"We'll, Kira. We'll see." I inhale the scent of winter air and leave everything to fate.

***

I return home around five in the evening. As I watch the scarf around my neck, I can't help but smother a laugh. That kid! She's surely made my day. If I ever have a daughter, I hope we can be best friends ever.

"You look happy, ma'am. It seems like your day went rather beautifully," Mrs. Prescott comments when I step inside the house.

I think she's making her usual rounds.

"Hmm, it was splendid." I grin from ear to ear. She gives me a swift nod and smiles. "Have I missed anything here? Maybe we can begin decorating the house right now?" I shrug out of my coat as I say this.

I still need to be distracted after all. And what's a great way if not preparing for Christmas?

"Right now? I'm still making dinner and I doubt you'd want to decorate the house when you realize that your husband is back," Mrs. Prescott says jubilantly.

My heart flips. "Liam is back?" I ask briskly.

Mrs. Prescott nods her affirmation while shutting the door. "Just a moment ago."

"So soon?" I whisper underneath my breath, surprised by this news.

"Let's decorate tomorrow, if it is not a problem with you," Mrs. Prescott says suggestively, and I see no reason to object.

Much less right now that Liam is back from Munich. Unbelievable!

"Of course, we can do it tomorrow," I agree with the old lady. "Well, if you'll excuse me, Nana. I'll go see my husband," I tell her with a soft smile, and deep inside I gather some kind of respite from the fact that Liam has chosen to return home immediately.

I head upstairs with a million thoughts on what to expect. What kind of story will he tell me just to back up his version of facts? Is he going to say that what I saw in that photo meant nothing? I can't help but wonder.

The bedroom door is unlocked. I push it tentatively and draw myself in. My heart doesn't give me a rest as it beats too fast. I'm nervous, even though I haven't done anything wrong. Soft music from the laptop regards me, and it's evident Liam's the one listening.

King of Sorrow by Sade makes me scowl. Seriously? I huff a laugh.

Liam is nowhere to be seen. Carefully, I take my bag off and drop it on the couch; and kick out my heels at the same time. I see a bottle of scotch and glass on the table, which can only mean that he was here. Is he in the bathroom? I ponder mutely.

If he's back, that should mean something, right? I sigh.

And suddenly Liam pops in from the dressing room. My eyes widen and tightly I swallow my saliva from the nerves. He's still fully dressed in charcoal gray jeans and white V-neck shirt. He's barefoot, looking as glorious as always. A scowl on his face fades the second he sees me.

A/N: I guess only five chapters left to end the book. I need a break from the series 🙁 🙁Thank you for your support.