Silent Eyes

33, Home

Stepping outside, Monica was greeted by the blaring sun, causing her to cover her face and squint. As she did so, she observed the clear blue sky and the slow, peaceful movement of clouds. The weather was delightful, and the sounds of happy chatter filled the air as people strolled along the sidewalk. Despite the beautiful scene before her, Monica found it difficult to muster a smile. Exhaustion weighed heavily on her body after the eleven-hour flight, yet she inhaled the fresh breeze and pressed forward.

Soon, she found herself in the back of a taxi, observing the bustling city with its towering buildings and street vendors. Being back home felt strange. It had been ages since she last walked these streets, and as she glanced around, memories flooded back. The restaurants she had dined in, the bench where she had waited for the bus, even the sidewalk where she had stumbled and scraped her knee-Monica absorbed it all.

Lost in her thoughts, her mind wandered back to Greece, specifically to Andreas. She couldn't help but wonder how he was doing. When Tobias and she had returned to collect her belongings, he hadn't been at the house. And before boarding the plane, he hadn't even said goodbye. The absence hurt, and Monica hung her head.

But perhaps it was for the best that they didn't cross paths.

Lowering her gaze, Monica noticed her fingers, now wrapped in bandages. Andreas had broken them, causing her immense pain. Once they had left, Monica began to complain about her hand, leading Tobias to check on her. It was then that he discovered the extent of the damage to her fingers. He promptly called a doctor to provide the necessary care. Monica doubted Andreas even realized the harm he had caused.

It was a strange situation. Monica was afraid of him and didn't want to be near him, yet she still cared about him. She fought the urge to dial his number, confess her love, and return to Greece. However, she knew she had to think logically. The safest environment for her baby was far away from him.

He was a criminal, the head of the Greek Mafia no less. Monica had never questioned his peculiar lifestyle, but now that she knew his true identity, everything began to make sense-the money, the cars, and the shady individuals surrounding them. She berated herself for not seeing the red flags earlier. She had naively believed that Andreas owned a chain of hotels worldwide.

Everyone else had noticed the warning signs, except for her. Her father had been the first to express concerns, mentioning Andreas' possessiveness and his need for control. Alex had also mentioned his explosive temper, and things had escalated to the point where Andreas had attacked him.

Lost in her own world, Monica had chosen to overlook these issues, wearing a constant grin, determined to love and accept Andreas unconditionally. They had moved in together, gotten married, and now she carried their baby. The situation had become serious, and Monica could no longer maintain her unwavering smile. She desperately longed to discover who the real Andreas was.

But the true nature of Andreas revealed itself, and Monica's heart skipped a beat. The harsh reality shattered the illusion of the honeymoon phase she had been trapped in.

Nervously, she swallowed as the taxi drove through her parents' neighborhood, anticipating their disappointment. Her parents had no idea she had returned to America, let alone about the argument or Andreas' involvement in the mafia. Monica planned to seek shelter at their house, but a knot of anxiety churned in her gut, fearing their anger and a door slammed shut with an "I told you so!"

Eventually, the car turned into the parking lot of a house. Monica stepped out and looked up at the yellow house adorned with flowers. There was no one outside, and the blinds were drawn. For a moment, she feared her parents might not be home. Then someone called her name, and she turned to see her mom blinking at her in surprise. "Monica? What are you doing here?" her mother asked.

Monica tried to speak, but her voice cracked. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she struggled to compose herself. Her mother hurried over, placing a comforting hand on her back. However, her gaze fell upon Monica's protruding stomach, and her eyes widened. "Oh, sweetheart, you're pregnant!" she exclaimed. They stood in silence, her mother's lips pressed into a flat line as she took in Monica's weary eyes, sickly appearance, and bandaged fingers. With a grimace, she guided Monica towards the house.

"Where's daddy?" Monica nervously inquired. Her mother faced her and let out a sigh. "He's at work," she replied. Monica paused, surprised. "He's working again?" she said. Her mother grimaced and cast her a sidelong glance. "You know how he is, that man can never sit still." They entered the house together, but Monica glanced back at the taxi and frowned. "But, Mama, what about my things?"

Her mother offered a warm smile. "Don't worry. You go and sit down, and I'll go out and get your belongings myself. I'm surprised a pregnant woman could even manage to carry all that!" she joked. With that, her hand slipped away from Monica's back, and she disappeared outside the door. As Monica watched her mother retrieve her luggage from the taxi, she took a deep breath, gazing at the familiar furniture and the photos adorning the walls. The scent of delicious food filled the air, and finally, a genuine smile spread across Monica's face.

It felt truly comforting to be back home.