Chapter Three
1101 Words
"Sure thing, Mommy! I'll go wherever you go!" The little boy grinned, his big eyes shining like polished black stones, forming crescent shapes.
Celine couldn't help but admire how lovely her child was. Every time she looked at his innocent face, she felt a rush of warmth and appreciation, amazed at how she had brought such a precious little soul into the world.
"Alright then, let's start packing now. We're heading to the airport tomorrow morning."
"Got it!" The little one nodded firmly, then rushed off to his room to pack for the trip.
Celine sighed deeply. She had been living abroad ever since her father kicked her out of the house seven years ago. It wasn't that she didn't want to return home, but rather that she felt she didn't belong there.
She hadn't even informed her father when she gave birth to her child abroad, but now that she was going back to her homeland for work, she had resolved to visit him. After all, he was still her father.
The next morning, as Celine pushed the baggage cart through the cold international airport, her son sat on top of the suitcase, wide-eyed with wonder at everything around him. As they stepped out of the arrival hall, two men in suits approached her.
"Miss Thunwood, we've been sent by Old Madam Rodriguez. She has arranged a ride for you just outside," one of them said politely.
Celine blinked at them and replied courteously, "I appreciate the offer, but I don't need a ride, thank you."
"Miss Thunwood, the Old Madam really wants to see you," the middle-aged man insisted respectfully.
Though Celine knew Old Madam Rodriguez meant well, she had no intention of accepting her kind offer. "Please tell her that it was my mother's wish to help the young master, and there's no need to repay the debt, at least not to me," she said firmly, brushing past the men and heading towards the exit with her cart.
One of the men dutifully reported into his phone, "Young master Lucas, Miss Thunwood has refused our offer to pick her up."
"Really? Where is she?" Lucas asked from inside one of the three black Porsches parked by the airport entrance, their heavily tinted windows preventing anyone from seeing inside.
"She's the one in a pink shirt and a plain pair of jeans," he heard on the other end of the phone as he kept his gaze on the airport doors.
"She's-"
"Don't worry, I've spotted her," Lucas said, ending the call as he noticed a woman pushing her cart through the airport doors, but his attention was diverted by something else, or rather someone - the adorable little boy who leaped off the woman's cart.
"Who is this kid? Is Celine married? If so, then my problem is solved. I won't have to marry her just to fulfill grandma's wishes," he thought, staring at Celine and the little boy from his car as she boarded a taxi and pulled away.
"Let's go," he signaled to his driver, lost in thought about what he had just seen moments ago. They had barely covered any distance when his phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID, he answered, "Hey Mia."
"Lucas, when are you coming to see me? I've missed you," Mia's coy voice whined on the other end.
"I've been a little busy recently, but I'll see you as soon as I'm free," he replied, the depth in his voice evident.
"Promise?" Mia asked, sounding flirtatious.
"Yes," he replied with forced patience.
Meanwhile, at the Rodriguez Residence, an elderly woman with gray hair sat at her reading table, sipping coffee, when she heard the latest news from her assistants. Shocked, she looked up and demanded, "What? Celine has a child? Is she married?"
"Our investigation indicates that the child's father is absent, suggesting she's a single mother," her subordinate replied.
"Oh, what a pity! To become a single mother with no one to help her..." Judy Rodriguez, also known as Old Madam Rodriguez, sighed. Guilt washed over her as she remembered her inability to repay Anna Danbury, Celine's late mother.
As she lamented over this, an elegant and tall figure strolled into the living room. It was Lucas, returning from the airport. "Come here, Lucas," Judy called out, motioning for her grandson to join her.
Lucas took a seat beside her and began, "Grandma, Celine keeps refusing our offer, maybe I-"
"I've just learned that Miss Thunwood is a single mother with a child born out of wedlock. Lucas, it's your responsibility to support both the mother and her son. You can't fathom what Anna Danbury, her mother, did to save you all those years ago. You owe her your life, and marrying her daughter is the least you can do to repay that debt."
Lucas was speechless, taken aback by his grandmother's determination. He had hoped she would give up on the idea, but it seemed she was more committed than ever.
"Grandma, I don't have to marry her. There are other ways to repay her mother's kindness," Lucas suggested calmly.
"No, you must marry Celine and protect her for life," Judy insisted firmly.
"Fine, if that's what you want! I'll marry her."
However, there was another woman whom he couldn't forget, someone he also felt indebted to. He had no intention of revealing this to Judy just yet, knowing it wouldn't change her mind.
FireArt, an old and renowned establishment, came under the ownership of Celine's employer. To grow the brand, Celine, who held the prestigious position of chief designer at Ceramétoire international group, was transferred back to her homeland to oversee the diversification of FireArt.
Through the arrangement made by FireArt, Celine was put up in an apartment. She spent two hours fixing it up while her son slept. Even though she was tired, she couldn't sleep. Instead, she watched her son sleep peacefully.
Memories of what happened seven years ago in the city still haunted her. Her best friend's betrayal, her stepsister's cruelty, and her father's decision to send her away left deep wounds.
Surviving those years was a challenge. She had to raise her son while studying art courses. Eventually, she climbed the ranks to become the chief designer. She worked harder than anyone to get there.
Now, she has savings, her son, and a job that gives her freedom.
She looked at her father's number on her phone, wondering if she should call him. But after hesitating, she decided against it. "It's been seven years. Maybe he's still angry," she thought, then sighed.
"Forget it."
- Writer
