By the time they finished watering the garden, the sky was painted in shades of orange and purple. Rainan wiped the sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt and let out a small laugh. “It’s been years since I last held a watering can. I can’t believe my arms are sore.”
Mikaela gave him a teasing glance. “You’ve really gone soft.”
“Blame the office life,” he said, stretching his arms as if it took a great deal of effort. “My only workout lately was walking from my desk to the coffee machine.”
Mikaela laughed and took the can from him, placing it back near the faucet. “Welcome back to real life, Mr. Architect.”
He smiled, appreciating the moment. It felt surprisingly natural to be here again, joking with her like nothing had changed. For a fleeting second, the years didn’t seem so heavy between them.
Then the sound of soft footsteps echoed from the porch.
A little girl, maybe five years old, peeked out from the front door, holding tightly to a stuffed pink bunny.
“Mama?” she called, her wide eyes locking onto Rainan.
Mikaela turned and opened her arms. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re awake.”
The girl ran to her and hugged her leg tightly. Rainan watched in quiet surprise.
“This is Clara,” Mikaela said as she gently brushed her daughter’s hair aside. “My daughter.”
Rainan smiled and bent a little to meet the girl's curious gaze. “Hi, Clara. I’m Rainan. I was your mommy’s friend a long time ago.”
Clara stared at him for a moment, then nodded before clutching her bunny and stepping back beside her mother.
“She’s a little shy,” Mikaela said.
“Just like her mom,” Rainan replied with a smirk.
Mikaela raised an eyebrow. “Says the guy who couldn’t even answer our science teacher without turning red.”
They both laughed, the kind of laughter that carried shared memories and old warmth. The past didn’t feel so far away now.
A moment later, the front door opened again. A man stepped out—tall, with an easy smile and a calm demeanor.
“Miks, dinner’s almost ready,” he said, pausing when he noticed Rainan. “Oh, we have a guest?”
Mikaela nodded. “Rainan, this is Paulo, my husband. Paulo, this is Rainan—an old friend from way back.”
Paulo stepped forward and offered a handshake. “Nice to meet you, Rainan. Mika’s mentioned you before. You’re the one who used to draw buildings on the backs of her school notebooks?”
Rainan chuckled as he took his hand. “That was me.”
“Thanks for keeping her entertained during math class,” Paulo joked.
They all laughed, and Rainan found himself surprisingly at ease. There was no awkward tension. No bitterness. Just the quiet ease of people who had all grown in their own ways.
“I should head out,” Rainan said after a while, noticing the sky darken and the porch lights turn on. “Didn’t mean to overstay.”
Mikaela shook her head. “No, it’s okay. It was really nice to see you again.”
“Same here.”
He made his way toward the gate, but before he could open it, a small voice called out.
“Bye!”
He turned and saw Clara peeking out from behind the door, waving shyly.
Rainan smiled and waved back. “Bye, Clara. It was nice meeting you.”
She gave a small smile before disappearing back inside.
“Hey,” Mikaela called softly.
He turned back to her.
“You’re not here just for a short visit, are you?”
He paused, then shook his head. “No. I’m staying for a while.”
Mikaela nodded slowly. “Then I guess we’ll have time to catch up.”
“I’d really like that.”
As Rainan opened the gate and stepped into the street, his chest felt lighter. There was still a long road ahead, still so many people to see, so many things left unsaid—but tonight was a good start.
And just as he reached his car, Mikaela called out once more.
“By the way,” she said. “If you're serious about mending the past… you might want to see my brother.”
Rainan stopped, hand on the car door.
“Angelo?” he asked quietly.
She nodded, her voice calm but steady. “He’s still here, you know.”
Rainan didn’t say anything at first. His heart skipped a beat, just at the sound of his name. He gave her a slow, thoughtful nod before getting into the car.
Tonight was a step forward. Tomorrow… perhaps, another.