His name was Nathaniel

75

The sun was bright but not overbearing, casting soft golden light over the pristine green of the Donovan estate golf course. It was one of those rare mornings where Nathaniel had no urgent business calls to attend, no pressing meetings, and no distractions—just a quiet game of golf with his grandfather.

Nathaniel adjusted his grip on the club, eyes focused on the ball as he lined up his shot. His grandfather, standing a few feet away, observed him with quiet amusement.

"I already know, by the way," the old man said suddenly.

Nathaniel paused mid-swing. "Know what?"

His grandfather chuckled. "About you and Adaliya. You think I don't hear things?"

Nathaniel sighed, finishing his swing. The ball soared through the air, landing neatly on the green. "Well, that saves me the trouble of saying it out loud."

His grandfather walked over, tapping his own club against the grass. "So, it's official then? No more dancing around it?"

Nathaniel nodded, his expression softening slightly. "Yeah. It's official."

His grandfather hummed, setting up his own shot. "Good. I like her."

Nathaniel smirked. "I figured you would."

His grandfather took his swing, the ball sailing in a perfect arc. He watched it land before turning back to Nathaniel, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Now, tell me—are you going the traditional route or the modern one?"

Nathaniel frowned. "What?"

His grandfather chuckled, tapping his club against the ground. "Marriage first, then children? Or are you planning on surprising the world with the next Donovan heir before you make it official on paper?"

Nathaniel nearly choked on air. "Grandfather."

"What?" The old man grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it."

Nathaniel ran a hand over his face. "I'm not having this conversation."

His grandfather sighed dramatically. "I'm just saying, Nathaniel. You're the only Donovan heir. This family's legacy rests on your shoulders. It's only natural that I'd want to know when I can expect the next generation to come into the picture."

Nathaniel shook his head, but there was amusement in his expression. "I think you're getting ahead of yourself."

"Am I?" His grandfather raised an eyebrow. "You've been serious about this girl for years—even when you weren't together, you were always circling back to her."

Nathaniel exhaled, staring at the course ahead of him. His grandfather wasn't wrong.

"You know," the old man continued, "your father was already married at your age."

Nathaniel tensed slightly at the mention of his father. "And look how that turned out."

His grandfather sighed, nodding. "Fair point. But I'm not talking about your father's mistakes. I'm talking about your future. Have you thought about it?"

Nathaniel was quiet for a moment, gripping his club. Had he thought about marriage? About a future with Adaliya?

Yes.

More than he wanted to admit.

His grandfather studied him carefully before offering a knowing smile. "You're considering it, aren't you?"

Nathaniel didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stepped forward, lining up his next shot. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter.

"I don't want to rush things," he admitted. "Adaliya and I just got together officially. I want to make sure we build something strong before anything else."

His grandfather nodded in approval. "That's a good answer."

Nathaniel took his shot, watching as the ball rolled toward the hole. "But if you're asking whether I see a future with her..." He exhaled. "Yeah. I do."

His grandfather grinned. "Now that is what I like to hear."

Nathaniel shook his head, half-exasperated, half-amused. "You just want great-grandchildren."

"Can you blame me?" His grandfather laughed. "This family needs another heir, and you're the only one who can make that happen."

Nathaniel rolled his eyes. "Noted."

They continued their game, the conversation lingering in Nathaniel's mind even as they moved on to other topics.

His grandfather's words had struck something in him.

A future with Adaliya.

Marriage.

Family.

It wasn't just some distant thought anymore. It was real. Destiny