Her Lost Paradise

Chapter 3

"Welcome back, Miss Foreigner," Timothy blurted out. I playfully rolled my eyes.

"My baby's feisty," he said again.

We walked quietly through the sliding glass doors of NAIA, reminiscing about our past trips home. People strolled to their gates, creating a light breeze. The warm sun shone through the glass, brightening the lives of those inside.

"f**k, my baby," Timothy rasped hoarsely.

My brows furrowed. What's his problem now? Oh god, Timothy! You're unbelievable! Is he horny again?

"What?" I sighed, still in a bitchy mood.

"Listen, baby, you're thinking wrong. The problem is there's a bunch of paparazzi waiting outside," Timothy said seriously.

"What? Oh god, seriously? I didn't expect to be this famous and popular in my own country," I said, laughing at first, but I stopped when I saw how serious Timothy was. "What's the problem? They're just thirsty paparazzi."

"You're an international model, Mione. You're a celebrity," he pointed out, taking my hand again and intertwining our fingers.

Timothy and I decided to exit the airport through the back to avoid the paparazzi and media. The Philippine media is intense! I can't believe they knew exactly when and where we were arriving. We were completely clueless. What can I say? The media are persistent, even if it means ruining someone's life. I don't mean to offend anyone, but that's how I feel.

"What are we going to do now?" I asked Timothy. He sighed and walked faster, his hair flowing.

My baby love is so serious. It's hilarious to see him like this. It makes me wet... Oh god, am I already soaking wet? Kidding. Timothy's like the weather—sometimes cold, sometimes hot as hell, depending on his mood. But now, he's hot and ready for some rounds tonight.

"Mione, my baby," he murmured.

"Yes, love?" I stopped in front of him. And stop thinking about s*x, Mione. Oh hell.

"Hey, my baby?" he murmured again.

"Ye-s?" I sighed, pushing aside the irrelevant thoughts.

"I just want to say I can handle this. We'll get out of here safely. I promise, baby. The drivers and bodyguards are already on their way," he said, clearing his throat.

"Huh?" I replied.

"f**k those media. Yeah, f**k them all," I cursed silently, losing my train of thought.

I still can't believe what he said. I can't explain this fluttering feeling. Oh god, Hermione, not again. He's not your past man. It will always be him, my past man, not Timothy. It's hard to believe I'm still stuck in the past. The past is hard to forget and bear with. I've tried, but failing has always been my choice.

As we approached the back exit of the airport, we were unexpectedly met with a large crowd of media and paparazzi. Timothy pulled me close to him. I was speechless. The media were wild and eager, excited to see us. I'm sure we'll be all over the news tomorrow. Even with our masks and aviators, some people recognized us.

"Mang Robin, you said there wouldn't be any media at the back exit. Why are they here?" Timothy shouted.

I raised my eyebrow, seeing his frustration. He was looking sideways while holding my hand.

"What? Mang Robin, who told you there wouldn't be? I told you not to believe people you don't know. Okay, tell Stanley to hurry up. Sorry for yelling," Timothy apologized after ending the call.

That's Timothy. He always apologizes when he's wrong.

"Can I borrow your phone?" I asked, sighing. He furrowed his brow.

"Thim?" I asked again. "I want to tell Kiana we arrived in the Philippines."

We waited inside for the driver and bodyguards so we could leave safely without being blocked by the media.

"Thim," I said frustratedly, holding out my hand. Instead of his phone, he hugged me tightly. I froze. My eyes widened as he held me in his strong arms. I'm used to his hugs, but this one felt different. It felt like a hug from my knight in shining armor. It might seem cheesy, but even those cringey gestures can make you feel safe, secure, happy, and content.

"What are you doing?" I gasped, even though I knew what he meant. I always ask Timothy about everything.

"Just hug me tight, Mione, as tight as you can," he chuckled.

Moments later, I heard the sounds of cameras and the shouts of the media. We were already outside, pushing through the crowd with the bodyguards. Timothy held me tightly as we moved through the throng of media. I pulled myself away a little to help him navigate the crowd. I knew he felt me struggling, so he adjusted his grip, holding me gently.