FATE - can a person in one lifetime fall in love with the same person twice?

Chapter 27

As I stepped inside, the sound of laughter and muted conversations filled the air, indicating the presence of guests. I paused momentarily, catching my breath and trying to steady my emotions.

I moved further into the house and saw my parents sitting in the living room. The moment they noticed me, their faces lit up with smiles, and they quickly came towards me.

"Mom, Dad… how are you both here?" I asked, embracing my dad first.

"We missed you, darling," Dad said as he gently released me from the hug.

"It’s been almost a year since you last visited us," my mom added, pulling me into a warm embrace.

"Yes, it has," I replied, gently extricating myself from her tight hug.

"You..." She stopped abruptly, her eyes fixated on my neck. I wondered why she was staring so intently—then I remembered. The marks. Oh no.

She smiled, clearly about to make a comment, but was interrupted.

"Hello, Mother, Father!" Eden entered just in time, saving me from her inappropriate remark.

"Hello, Eden," they both said warmly as they moved toward him, greeting him with hugs.

"I’ll let you talk with him while I go change. I'll be back in two minutes," I said, excusing myself as I headed towards my room.

I changed into something more comfortable, making sure it covered those marks. To be extra cautious, I let my hair fall forward over my shoulders from both sides. Trying to appear natural, I rejoined the others. Eden was still deep in conversation with my parents. I told him to go change, and he left the room.

"Your maid Jenna is so polite," my mom remarked. "She treated us so nicely, showed us to our room, and even cooked dinner for us."

"Yes, she's wonderful," I replied. Just then, Eden returned, freshly changed.

We spent the next hour talking and laughing together.

"Mom, Dad," I said gently, "you should go and rest. You must be tired after that long journey."

"Okay!" they agreed, and headed upstairs to their room.

Eden excused himself as well, mentioning that he had an important meeting tomorrow and needed to prepare for it. I, too, retired to my room.

The next day, after breakfast, Eden left for the office. I spent the entire day with my parents, giving them a tour of the house, talking, and laughing together.

"So..." I began, taking a bite of my food as we sat down for dinner, "when are you two planning to head back home?"

"We just arrived yesterday, darling..."

"No... no..." I interrupted my mom. "I mean, you have the restaurant to look after, too."

"Don't worry about that," my dad reassured me. "We have workers handling everything."

"Yes! Thanks to Eden's help, the whole restaurant was renovated after the fire, and our business has been thriving ever since," my mother added. "We even opened two more branches in the city."

"Yes!" I agreed.

"We understand you need some time alone with Eden, so we'll head out early," she teased.

"No..." I started to protest, but the words faltered.

"Speaking of which..." she cut in, her tone playful, "when are you going to give me grandchildren? It’s been almost two years since you got married."

"Mom..." I choked out, feeling my face flush.

"Work in progress, Mother," Eden chimed in, still looking at his plate, making everyone turn to him. I blushed even harder—what was he saying? I quickly reached for my glass of water and took a long sip.

After that, my mother didn’t bring up the topic again, and we finished our dinner in a more subdued silence.

After talking with my parents, I retired to my room. It was well past midnight, and I was exhausted. As I prepared my bed for sleep, I heard the door open and close.

“Haven’t you gone to bed yet, Mom?” I asked without turning around.

“No, darling,” came the reply. I turned to see who it was and found Eden leaning against the door. “Except I’m not your mom”

“What are you doing here?” I asked, puzzled.

“I…” He took a few steps closer to me. “I’m here to continue with the ‘work in progress’ I mentioned.”

I froze in place, a flush of heat spreading across my cheeks and ears. Shocked, I stood silently, my eyes wide.

“Look at your face,” he chuckled. “Relax.”

“What?” I asked, feeling irritated.

“I was working in the study when your mom walked in,” Eden explained. “She said it wasn’t good to stay up too late or I’d get sick. I tried to argue, but she insisted I come here.”

“So, you’re here to sleep?” I asked, crossing my arms.

“Yes!” he replied, meeting my gaze. “I managed to sleep in the study yesterday, but today it seems impossible. We agreed to stay in the same room in these situations.”

“Okay,” I said, “you can sleep on the couch.”

“Me?” Eden pointed to himself and then at the couch. “Sleep on the couch?”

“Yeah, you on the couch,” I said, pointing at him and then at the couch.

“You think I can fit on that small couch?” He crossed his arms. “Why don’t you sleep on it?”

“Me?” I asked, surprised.

“Yes, you. Since you’re so tiny.”

“No!” I protested. “I’ll fall off. I have a habit of shifting to the right while I sleep, and I’ll end up on the floor. And I’m not tiny!”

“Then sleep in the bed with me,” Eden said, before heading to the bathroom. I wanted to protest and I wanted to throw him out, but I couldn’t bring myself to do so, especially with my parents around.

I was sitting on the bed when he emerged from the bathroom, his hair damp. It was the first time I had seen him like this. He wore a white button-down shirt—the same one I had seen him in on the balcony of that apartment. The top buttons were undone, revealing a small portion of his chest. He wore black pajama bottoms. I found myself staring at him without blinking, unable to look away.

“Like what you see?” he asked with a smirk.

“No,” I replied, looking anywhere but at him.

“Really?” he said, taking a step closer.

I tried to maintain my composure, but Eden's close proximity made it difficult. I shifted uncomfortably on the bed, trying to focus on anything other than him.

“Seriously,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “you don’t have to be so shy. It’s just me.”

I looked up at him, my cheeks flushing slightly. “I’m not shy.”

“Oh,” he grinned, “good.”

“Listen!” I said, pointing to the line of cushions I had arranged on the bed. “This line—don’t cross it, or I’ll throw you out of the balcony.”

“Oh!” he said, amused. “And what if you accidentally cross it yourself?”

“That won’t happen,” I replied firmly.

“Here,” I said, grabbing a quilt and tossing it at him (it landed on his face, which was my intention). “Your quilt.”

“No, it’s not mine,” he said, pointing at the black quilt I was using. “The one you have is mine.”

“No, it’s mine now!” I replied, wrapping myself in it and settling onto the pillow.

He switched off the lights and lay down on the bed right next to me, but the border of cushions would keep me safe. I remembered his words, “The one you have is mine.” That’s why the quilt had seemed so familiar—it carried his scent, and I had been using it since then. It felt almost like hugging him... Stop it Azalea! I shook off the thought, reminding myself to focus on sleeping, and closed my eyes.