Page 4 of When Love And Destiny Collide

Walking into my childhood home after almost three decades is unbelievably surreal. Everything feels both familiar and foreign, like stepping into a distant memory.

"What do you think of all the updates?" Jon asks, his voice pulling me back to the present.

"I appreciate that everything is new, but the house's charm is still intact." I run my fingers along the polished banister, a smile tugging at my lips.

"Davey," Jon says, turning to my son, "do you want to check out your new room?"

"Yeah!" Davey shouts.

We race upstairs, laughter echoing through the halls as we burst into my old room.

"Wow!" Davey shouts, his eyes wide with wonder as he looks around his room. The walls burst with color, and a vibrantToy Storymural brings his favorite movie to life. It's a masterpiece that not only delights Davey but also stirs my own childhood memories.

"It's Woody and Buzz Lightyear!" Davey exclaims, his voice full of excitement. "and, look, Daddy, it's Rex the dinosaur!"

"Lily painted the mural," Jon explains. "When I told her about the dinosaur-themed mural from your childhood, she added Rex just for you."

A smile spreads across my face. "She did an amazing job," I say, my heart warming at the thoughtful touch. "Thank you so much for getting the house ready for us."

"You're welcome," Jon replies. "But I can't take all the credit. Sharon and I picked out the furniture, but Lily was the one who spent countless hours decorating every room and making sure no detail was missed."

"It's home," I say, feeling a sense of belonging.

"Welcome home," Jon says, clapping me on the back. "It's good to have you back."

***

After a much-needed nap, I wander downstairs to start on dinner. The pantry and refrigerator are brimming with enough groceries to last a month. I reach into the fridge, retrieving roast beef and cheese, while the ripe tomatoes in the wire basket on the counter catch my eye.Perfect, I think to myself, roast beef melts it is.

Half an hour later, I hear the pitter-patter of little feet on the upstairs floor.

"Daddy!" Davey calls out.

"Down here, Son. Dinner's ready."

He shuffles into the kitchen, barefoot and rubbing his sleepy eyes with his fists. I smile as I watch him climb onto one of the stools at the center island.

I set our plates down, and we both dig in, the flavors mingling with wonderful memories of this house. Every corner echoes with the laughter and loud voices of my family dinners. When I was ten, we moved to Japan to be closer to my grandparents and uncle. By the time my parents returned to the States, I was already married to Marian, believing with all my heart that she was my soulmate. I was convinced our love was unbreakable, just like Jon and Sharon's, and we'd spend the rest of our lives together.

"Daddy, can I have ice cream after dinner?" Davey's eyes sparkle with hope.

"We'd have to make a trip to the ice cream shop," I reply, strolling to the freezer. "Or stop by the grocery store to pick some up."

But as I open the freezer, I chuckle. Nestled among the frozen peas, strawberries, and blueberries are two pints of ice cream—rocky road for Davey and cookie dough for me. A sticky note with two words: “Welcome Home” is taped to one of the lids. They literally thought of everything.

After dinner and dessert, Davey takes a shower while I wash and dry the dishes. He brushes his teeth and changes into pajamas. Then we both sit on the couch and turn on the television to watchToy Storyfor what must be the hundredth time. I smile as I pull my son close, his small frame fitting perfectly against me. An hour later, I glance down to find him fast asleep, his gentle snores a soothing rhythm.

I close my eyes, trying to relax, but suddenly I murmur, "Sapphire." My eyes snap open, my heart pounding as I realize I was talking in my sleep. What was that?! I had been dreaming about the accident we narrowly avoided. In my dream, the young woman approached me, fire blazing in her sapphire eyes. I had rear-ended her, and she was furious.

My mind drifts, inevitably landing on thoughts of her, and I scold myself. She can't be over twenty years old, for Pete's sake! But Davey’s right—she's pretty. No, not pretty, stunning. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her back as she walked away from us. Her slim figure was perfectly balanced from head to toe. Every inch of her was beautiful. Those blue eyes, striking against her flawless olive skin, were mesmerizing. She had full, pouty lips, and a single dimple graced her left cheek when she smiled at my son, making her even more beautiful.

Okay, that's enough!

I extricate myself from the couch, careful not to wake Davey. Heading upstairs, I start unpacking the few belongings we brought from Japan. It hits me that I need to take Davey shopping for more clothes.

I walk into the room designated as Davey's playroom, a nostalgic replica of my own from all those years ago. The bookshelf is packed with books, and as I pull a few out, I'm pleasantly surprised to find my work nestled among popular titles. I’ve been writing children's books for almost twelve years, something I haven't shared with my family. They still believe I'm a mechanical engineer. As I sift through the shelves, I count seven of my books, a quiet testament to my hidden career under my pen name, Shay David. Shay is the nickname I gave Sharon when we first met—I was four, and she was my nanny. That's how she and my brother met. David is my father's and my son's name.

I head back downstairs and gently scoop up my sleeping boy, careful not to disturb his peaceful slumber. With school starting in three months, I make a mental note to enroll him in kindergarten and find a babysitter for after school. After tucking him in and pulling the covers snugly around him, I walk to the door and reach for the light switch.

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