Richard's POV

The ringing doorbell persists, forcing me to grab my crutches and trot towards the door with a hardened expression.

I am not expecting anyone. And this is really not a good time for any visit.

This is a pure inconvenience.

Ever since I have been on crutches, I have been super lazy. The fact that I had to use the damn sticks every single time messes with my head. Even when I want to take a bath, I have to go in there with them.

When the bell rings again as I get closer, I pull the door open aggressively, intending to ask whoever is at the door what he or she is looking for.

No one knows me around here.

So I'm sure it must be the neighbor from across. Our condos are opposite each other.

However, it isn't anyone I don't know.

The person at the door is the least anticipated.

Arabel.

Her face does not register any kind of emotion I am expecting. No hurt. No smiles. No indignation.

“Hi,” she says lightly, holding up a package.

“Arabel?” I can't hide my surprise. The mere fact that she's at my doorstep, just 10 hours after I'd given up on ever seeing her again, without any connection to our contract, fills me with surprise.

I wanted to give her time. So I had no intention to cross paths with her intentionally.

“Can I come in?” Her voice jerks me back to life, and I step away quickly, grabbing my crutches in place again.

The moment she steps in, she stares at my leg. “How is it?”

Unable to find my voice, I nod in the affirmative, even though I feel shitty with the crutches. I wish I could get rid of them, but doing that means falling face down. I just need to keep up with them for a few more days, as the doctor advised.

She steps fully in, looking around and nodding her head in admiration. This behavior and the fact that she is here are still baffling.

I hastily return to the spot I was seated lazily, where I find two bottles of alcoholic wine, a bottle of water, and a disposable plate of food I ordered a few hours ago.

My cleaner hasn't arrived yet. I didn't inform her beforehand that I was coming to London. Usually, she cleans the condo twice a week. I found the place clean, but being here in just a few hours has turned it messy.

I try to grab the bottles out of embarrassment, but one of the crutches falls off, and she beats me to it.

“Hey, easy. You don't need to feel uncomfortable around me.”

She looks like she has more to say, but she shuts her mouth.

Instead of feeling at ease, my insides are jittering. I don't know what the visit is for, but I am glad, anxious, nervous, and feeling stupid.

“Mom prepared a meal, and she asked me to bring it for you. They are your favorites,” she informs me softly, raising up the package once again.

I nod without saying a word.

I am just staring at her, uncaring about how awkward it is to stand a few feet away from each other in silence.

She glances around once more, just to avoid my eyes, before asking. “Can I sit?”

This is when I regain my senses. “I'm sorry. Forgive my manners.”

She smiles, and something stirs in me. Not only did it stir, but my body shivered with excitement despite now knowing why she is here.

I'm sure it's not just because Mom asked her to come with her, or is it?

She settles down on the couch, leaving me to move over to the one next to her. I continue to watch her from a peripheral view.
Both in admiration and surprise.

Just then, my good leg hits something hard the moment I let go of the crutches, and I groan out in pain, trying to maintain my balance, but it fails.

She rushes at me and grabs me from behind, preventing me from falling onto my buttocks.

“Have you always been this clumsy?” She almost barks at me, her eyes filled with fear, and my eyes linger on her lips.

“Thank you. I'm sorry,” I mutter, confused about what exactly I am supposed to say.

She darts her eyes away and helps me to the couch, dropping the crutches carefully next to me.

"Thank you for bringing me that," I say, pointing to the food she just brought me.

Bristol is an hour's journey from her home. Yet she claims to be here just before some meal I can order a few distances away from here?

Did mother put her to it really?

Silence ensues. So awkward. And at the same time, ensuring.

I was extremely lazy to do any work before she came and also bored to death, which is why I have two different newspapers on my table.

I was done with both already, even though I barely read the content of the newspapers before now. Ashley knows that one thing about me. I only go through the headlines.

I was bored to death. But now, despite the silence, I don't feel as lonely as I felt earlier.

“Richard,” she calls finally, making me take a puff of air before turning to her. “Can we talk?”

Did she just fidget with her fingers? Did I just see a flash of emotion on her face? Did I just see the real version of the woman I married?

Unable to mumble a single word, I nod at her, urging her to go ahead. I am all ears.

She looks down and begins. "Actually, that isn't the reason why I am here, but I just thought to inform you. This is an opportunity.”

She continues calmly, her heart beating hard and fast. "For now, I will be in London because the branch office in New York is no longer planned. But I would definitely be in New York if I am needed. It's just that coming and going won't be a thing for me anymore.”

It's me.

It's me.

My inner voice keeps screaming at me. It's me. She is doing this because of me. She wants to avoid me till the very end. She doesn't want to stay next door to me or make any form of contact with me either.

“Also…” she trails off, but I am no longer curious to know what she is here for. She has given me a clue already. This is about work, not us.

Work can wait till I get back to New York. But for now, I just want to be complacent. Deal with this past haunting me. And go back anew.

However, Arabel doesn't want to make any of this possible. It hurts, but I have no choice but to give her time and not rush her to make a decision she may regret in the long run.

“It's fine. I'm cool with it.” Acting indifferent, I say, and she nods with another smile before moving back to slouch on the couch.

“Thank you for understanding. There is one more thing,” she mentions, holding up a finger and making curiosity tug at me again.

She dips her hand into another bag I hadn't seen with her before she came in. Perhaps she was hiding it. What could it be?

She brings out a document and stares at it for a minute, fixated on it as if to summon up the courage to reach a decision before she drops it on the table.

Leaning forward, I grab it, staring at her for a moment before looking away and opening the document.

It is a file.

And I see Daisy's name.

Confusion replaces my curiosity as I look up again to see if she is going to say anything to give me a cue about what this is about.

She points to the document as a signal for me to study it well and thoroughly. I stare down with determination as I continue reading.

Birth date: April 24

Weight- 5kg

Name- Daisy

Other name: Nil

Surname- Giodano.

My eyes shoot up and settle on her face. She is no longer smiling. She no longer has that determined look on her face.

She is practically trembling as she stares straight at me. I can see tears brimming in her eyes while my heart keeps slamming against a wall.

Turning back to the document, I stare hard at the words once more before realization slowly dawns on me, and my heart sinks.

“Daisy,” she admits reluctantly, her voice breaking as a tear slowly rolls down her eyes. “Daisy is your child, Richard. She is Daisy Giodano.”

Reality is what hits me in the face as I begin to pant heavily.

Not relief.

Not surprise.

Just the reality.

****

Finally!

What will Richard do?

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