Dante:
We were offered dinner, though I quickly realized I knew nothing about Chinese customs. I sat stiffly, watching the table being set, every dish foreign yet fragrant. Mrs. Zhao's face carried a quiet sadness, her eyes lingering too long on Danna, as if afraid she might vanish again. Danna kept biting her lip, a nervous habit she tried to hide but failed. Xingqi, bright as always, tried her best to keep the air light, laughing, chatting, and clinging to her real father, George Wilson, like she didn't want to let go.
The door creaked open then, pulling every gaze toward it. Two men entered. One was older, carrying himself with the quiet authority of someone who had built his life brick by brick—this, I assumed, was Mr. Zhao. The other man, younger, sharp in appearance… I knew him. Or maybe it was déjà vu? No. Recognition struck like a cold knife. I had seen him before—he was Danna's ex-fiancé.
Xingqi's eyes lit up as she hurried forward, her words spilling softly, "Nǐ dàojiāle?" Are you home? She wrapped her arms around him like she had been waiting forever.
My gaze shifted to Danna. Slowly, she rose from her seat, her posture tense but respectful. She stepped toward Mr. Zhao and bowed deeply, her voice trembling, "Baba…"
His eyes widened in disbelief, his lips parting as if the world had just tilted beneath him. "Xinyi… Wǒ de bǎobèi," he whispered—my precious one.
Danna's tears spilled instantly as she straightened, and when he pulled her into his arms, she didn't resist. Another hug. Another broken piece of her heart being painfully stitched together. God, this woman—she deserved peace, not endless reunions that cracked her open over and over again.
Her eyes shifted toward the younger man—her former fiancé. She bowed slightly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Kai?"
So that was his name. Kai.
He smiled, and in that instant something primal flared in me. I rose from my seat without thinking, my arm slipping around Danna's waist, holding her firmly against me—my silent declaration, my warning. She was mine now. Mine, and no one else's.
Xingqi giggled at the sight, breaking the tension. She moved to Kai's side and, with a proud little grin, clung to his arm. "Well… we got married when jiejie left," she announced.
Danna's eyes widened, shock flickering across her face. "That's real?"
Xingqi nodded eagerly, her smile lighting up the entire room. Kai looked at Danna gently, almost fondly. "How are you, Xinyi? Your photography career?"
Danna shook her head, returning his smile, though I didn't miss the faint hesitance in her eyes. "Nothing… but I will continue it. Later."
Mr. Zhao cleared his throat, his voice commanding the room. "Sit, all of you."
And so we did. The hours blurred together as stories spilled across the table—years of separation, misunderstandings, reconciliations. Piece by piece, truths were laid bare.
Then came the moment.
When Danna revealed she was carrying my child.
Xingqi gasped so loudly it startled even me. "Really? No—no way!" She hurried to her sister's side, plopping down beside her and gently pressing a hand against Danna's stomach, as if she could already feel life there. Her voice was trembling with excitement. "Will the baby call me godmother?"
Danna laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"Rather… aunty," I corrected in a low murmur, unable to hide the warmth that spread through me at the sight of my wife glowing with happiness.
Zixuan—her brother—burst out laughing, his deep voice filling the room.
"Mr Dante!" Xingqi pouted, glaring at him. "Don't laugh!"
He only shrugged, still amused, but she quickly turned back to Danna, her eyes shimmering. "I'm so happy, really."
Danna ruffled her hair affectionately, her smile tender. "Of course."
And as I watched them, something unfamiliar yet undeniable settled in my chest. For the first time in years, I felt it—this fragile, fleeting thing I had long thought impossible.
Family.
We were finally given a room to rest in—her old room, kept neat and well-maintained as if she had never left. She drifted toward the balcony, the moonlight spilling across her hair, and for a moment I just watched her, memorizing the fragile serenity on her face.
I walked to her, turned her gently in my arms, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I love you," I murmured.
Her lips curved as she wrapped her arms around me, whispering back, "I love you too."
I pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. "Do you remember our first birthday together?"
Her smile deepened, eyes shining with memory. "Mashed potatoes. Candles."
I chuckled softly, nodding. Taking her hand, I guided it against my cheek, feeling the warmth of her touch. "On our new birthday," I promised, "we'll have a real family, a house, a cake… everything we once dreamed."
Her gaze softened, her voice a vow. "Everything."
I lowered my lips to hers, brushing them gently until she kissed me back, her smile caught between us. When she pulled away, her eyes sparkled with mischief. "By the way… what should we name our baby?"
I didn't answer with words at first—I simply swept her up into my arms, her soft yelp echoing with laughter as I carried her to the bed. Laying her down gently, I leaned close, my voice a whisper meant only for her.
"If it's a boy… Luca. If it's a girl… Luna."
She laughed softly, the sound like music, and in that instant, with her in my arms and our child between us, the world finally felt whole.