His name was Nathaniel

36

After the gallery walk, Nathaniel and his grandfather were driven to an exclusive restaurant, tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. It was one of those places where only the wealthiest of families could secure a table. The restaurant itself had an air of sophistication, with candle-lit tables, soft classical music playing in the background, and waitstaff who moved like shadows, ensuring that every need was attended to before it was even voiced.

Nathaniel's mind, however, was far from the restaurant's ambiance. His thoughts lingered on the painting he had just purchased and what it might mean. Was it really her? Was it Adaliya? And if it was, what would he even say if he saw her again?

They sat at their table, the glow of candlelight reflecting off the polished silverware. His grandfather, always observant, quietly studied him as they were served their first course. Nathaniel barely noticed the food placed in front of him, a beautifully prepared dish that would have normally caught his attention. Instead, he moved it around his plate, his thoughts elsewhere.

Finally, his grandfather broke the silence. "You were in quite a hurry to buy that painting," he remarked, his deep voice calm but probing. "Care to tell me why?"

Nathaniel looked up, startled out of his reverie. He hadn't expected his grandfather to mention it so quickly. He searched for an answer, something that wouldn't give too much away, but his mind drew a blank. He could feel the weight of his grandfather's gaze, unwavering and patient.

"It's nothing, really," Nathaniel said, attempting to brush it off casually. "I just... liked the piece. It reminded me of something."

His grandfather raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by the attempt to deflect. "Something? Or someone?" There was a knowing tone in his voice, one that made it clear Nathaniel wasn't going to get out of this conversation so easily.

Nathaniel shifted in his seat, feeling exposed. He hadn't realized just how much his grandfather had noticed over the years. He tried to shrug it off again, but his grandfather wasn't one to let things slide.

"I've watched you closely, Nathaniel," his grandfather continued, cutting into his meal with measured precision. "For years now, you've had this look about you. This face of longing, as though there's something—or someone—you're always thinking about. You hide it well, most of the time, but I can see it. It's in the way your mind drifts during family gatherings, the way you avoid certain conversations, and the way you carry yourself when you think no one is paying attention."

Nathaniel felt his heart skip a beat. He had always thought he had done a good job at keeping his emotions in check, at least around his family. But his grandfather had clearly seen through him, perhaps more than anyone else ever had.

"I—" Nathaniel started, but his grandfather raised a hand, signaling him to stop.

"I'm not prying into your personal life, Nathaniel," his grandfather said gently. "But I've been around long enough to know when someone's heart is tied to something deeper. Or to someone. It's obvious that this has been eating at you for years. And today, seeing how quickly you reacted to that painting, I knew it was about a woman."

Nathaniel was stunned into silence. His grandfather, the man who had always been composed and sharp, rarely spoke so candidly about feelings. The fact that he had noticed and had waited until now to bring it up both surprised and unnerved him.

"I don't know who she is, but I can tell you this," his grandfather continued, setting down his fork and folding his hands together on the table. "If this is the woman you've been thinking about all these years, the one who's kept you in this state of longing, then you owe it to yourself to go after her."

Nathaniel blinked, taken aback by his grandfather's words. He had always seen his grandfather as a pillar of strength and wisdom, a man more focused on the family legacy and business than on matters of the heart. Yet here he was, encouraging him to follow something that had haunted Nathaniel for years.

"I... didn't realize it was that obvious," Nathaniel finally admitted, his voice quiet. His defenses had dropped, and he couldn't pretend anymore.

His grandfather chuckled softly. "It's obvious to anyone who knows how to look. Your father, for all his flaws, is too blinded by pride and control to see it. But I'm not. You've been carrying this weight for far too long, Nathaniel. And from what I can see, it's time to stop hiding from it."

Nathaniel stared at the table, his thoughts swirling. Could he really reach out to her? After all this time? What if she didn't want to see him? What if she had moved on and was living a happy life without him? A part of him had been holding back all these years because he didn't want to disrupt her life. But now, sitting here, hearing his grandfather's words, a flicker of hope ignited within him.

"Go after her, Nathaniel," his grandfather said, his tone gentle but firm. "You'll never know unless you try. And if she's the one, you'll regret it forever if you don't."

Nathaniel lifted his eyes to meet his grandfather's. He was surprised by how easily the older man had read him, how effortlessly he had stripped away all the layers Nathaniel had built up over the years. For so long, he had been afraid to confront his feelings, afraid of what they might mean. But now, sitting across from his grandfather, he realized something.

It was time to stop running.

"Thank you," Nathaniel said, his voice barely above a whisper, but his grandfather heard it.

His grandfather nodded, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. "You're welcome. Now, let's finish dinner. You'll need your strength for whatever comes next."

They ate in silence after that, but the weight that had been pressing down on Nathaniel's chest for so long felt lighter, as though a door had opened. The thought of seeing Adaliya again still filled him with nervous anticipation, but now, for the first time in years, he felt like it was possible.