I didn't think it would feel like this.
My feet felt heavier with every step toward the front door of the house i once called home.
The house hadn't changed.
Still perfectly painted.
Still pristine.
Still painfully quiet in the same way that used to comfort me as a child.
But now, every inch of this place felt like a memory i had no right to touch anymore.
Celestine gripped my hand tighter.
Her small fingers curled around mine like she could sense my fear.
Or maybe… maybe she was just afraid too.
I looked down at her, my daughter.
Her soft curls were pulled into pigtails, her eyes wide with curiosity, lips already moving to ask a hundred questions she probably wouldn't understand the answers to.
And me? I could barely breathe.
I raised my hand to knock.
The door opened before i could.
And there they were.
My parents.
My father stood tall, his features unreadable. The same cold control he always carried behind his eyes.
My mother was beside him—Claudia Araneta, The legend, the woman everyone adored… and the woman who hadn't seen her daughter in years.
For a moment, no one spoke.
It was as if time folded itself in half.
Like we were frozen in the last fight we had, like the echo of slammed doors and broken hearts still lingered in the hallway.
Then—
"Hi…" I said. Stupid. Weak.
I hated how my voice cracked. "Hi, Mom. Dad."
Mom hand moved to her mouth.
Celestine peeked out from behind me and said, "Hi."
And that's when it happened.
My mother's knees buckled, her eyes filled with tears, and she whispered, almost breathlessly, "She looks like you."
I bent down and lifted Celestine into my arms.
She rested her head on my shoulder like she always did when she didn't know what was going on.
"She's mine," I said, voice barely above a whisper. "Her name is Celestine."
My father said nothing.
But i saw the flicker in his eyes. Shock. Disappointment.
A thousand questions.
But my mother… she didn't speak either.
She just started crying.
Soft, shaking sobs.
The kind you try to hold in but can't.
Her hand reached out slowly, hesitantly—like she wasn't sure she deserved to touch either of us.
"She's beautiful," she finally whispered. "Gosh, Atasha… you're a mother."
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.
Then came the part i dreaded most.
I slowly set Celestine down.
She clung to my dress, but i gently pulled her hand away and pressed it into Mom.
"Go say hi to your grandma, love," I said.
Mom let out another broken sound as she slowly knelt down to meet her granddaughter.
And just as they touched—
My father turned away.
Quietly.
He didn't storm out.
He didn't yell.
He just… walked back into the house.
I didn't follow him.
I couldn't.
We sat in the living room, Mom and I, while Celestine explored with Yaya Minda, who was watching her like a hawk in the garden.
"I thought about this moment for so long," Mom whispered, stirring her untouched tea. "And now that you're here, I feel like i'm still dreaming."
I gave a small smile. Tight. Controlled. "It feels unreal for me too."
Claudia glanced at me, long, searching, seeing right through my mask.
"You've changed," she said.
"I had to."
She nodded slowly, eyes glistening. "Where is he? The father?"
My chest ached.
"Somewhere in the same city," I said. "Trying his best. Regretting everything."
Her lips pressed into a line, then softened.
She looked down at my stomach.
I froze.
"You're pregnant," she whispered.
It wasn't a question.
I nodded slowly.
Her hand reached out across the table and rested on mine.
The moment she touched me, everything inside me broke.
"I didn't mean to run away, you saw me broke and you saw me go, i didn't knew that i was pregnant at that rime" I whispered, tears finally escaping my eyes.
Mom bottom lip trembled.
"I know," she said. "I know, baby."
And then she said something i didn't expect that will come from her mouth, the story that yaya minda told me back when we're in the Paris.
"When i got pregnant with Sebastian… I didn't tell anyone."
I looked up.
She was staring into the distance, somewhere far away.
"Not even your grandfather and grandmother," she said. "Not even your father. I just… I left. I didn't even know i was carrying life until it was already growing inside me."
My breath caught.
"I didn't know that," I whispered. I pretend.
"Of course you didn't," she said softly. "I never told anyone. I played strong. I acted like i had it all together. But i was scared. So scared."
I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my throat. I can my mom's pain, that's what i felt when i'm carrying celestine, even though i'm with Yaya minda, in that moment.
"I didn't know if i could raise him alone. I didn't know if i was strong enough. But i did it. And now you… you' did the same."
Her voice cracked.
"I just wish i had told someone. I wish i had let myself be loved instead of always proving i didn't need anyone, but i'm already happy now, i'm happy that Lorenzo came back, i thought back then he didn't choose me, but i was wrong."
My tears were falling now, shamelessly.
"I thought you'd hate me," I whispered. "For not showing up. For coming back like this."
She looked at me, really looked and her voice broke completely.
"How could i hate you for surviving the way i survived too?"
I sobbed.
That's when she stood up, walked to me, and pulled me into her arms.
I hadn't been held like that in years.
Not as Atasha the Horseback rider, not a car racer. Not as a rebel. Not as the runaway.
Just as her daughter.
And i let her.
I let her hold me until my body stopped shaking.
—
I never thought i'd be back here.
The gates of the Buenaventura estate loomed in front of us like a past i still wasn't sure would ever forgive me.
The car had been silent the entire drive.
Not even Celestine's usual chatter could break through the weight hanging in the air.
My palms were sweating.
Lorenzo noticed.
He reached over and held my hand, gently, his thumb brushing over my skin like it could calm the storm brewing in my chest.
"You okay?" he asked.
I nodded.
But i wasn't.
Because the last time i was here, I was a storm.
I remember screaming outside those gates. My fists pounding on them.
Security trying to pull me back, but i was wild with grief and rage.
I was looking for him.
Begging to see him.
Begging for answers.
I'd lost all dignity that day.
Lost everything. And now i'm back, not just as the girl they disapproved of, but as the woman who carried their grandchild, two of them, actually.
And i had no idea if that would be enough to make them see me differently.
The gates opened slowly, and the car rolled in.
The mansion hadn't changed.
Still terrifying in its perfection. Still cold.
Celestine leaned closer to the window. "Wow," she whispered.
My heart twisted.
She had no idea what this place meant.
What kind of memories were buried in its walls.
We stepped out of the car, the three of us—four, actually, counting the life moving quietly inside me.
Lorenzo kept his hand on the small of my back.
Protective. Reassuring.
But i could still feel his own nervousness in the way he stood straighter than usual, the way his jaw clenched.
The front doors opened.
His mother stepped out first.
Then his father.
The silence that followed was unbearable.
His mother was elegant as always, her posture regal, her eyes sharp.
But they softened, just slightly, when they landed on Lorenzo.
His father, on the other hand, looked like he'd aged ten years.
The lines on his face deeper.
His stare colder.
No one spoke.
Until Celestine, with all her innocence, broke the tension.
"Hi," she said, clutching a small stuffed bunny in one hand. "I'm Celestine."
She stepped forward.
Brave. Radiant.
Everything i wasn't.
And that's when something in Lorenzo's mother broke.
She dropped to her knees, right there at the top of the steps, and covered her mouth as her eyes welled with tears.
"My God..." she whispered. "She looks just like you did when you were a boy."
Lorenzo didn't move.
Celestine, unsure, looked at me.
I gave her a small nod.
She climbed the steps and stood in front of her grandmother.
The woman reached out, slowly, hesitantly, and touched Celestine's cheek.
"How old are you, sweetheart?"
Celestine held up four fingers. "Two."
A tear slipped down her cheek.
Then her gaze lifted to Lorenzo.
And the moment their eyes met…
Everything shifted.
There was no anger.
No judgment.
Just raw, aching silence.
His mother stood and walked to him, her hands trembling as she cupped his face.
"I thought i lost you," she whispered. "You haven't been home in over three years."
Lorenzo swallowed hard.
"I didn't know if i'd be welcome."
"You're my son," she said. Her voice cracked. "You're my son."
His father still hadn't spoken.
He stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze fixed on Lorenzo like he was trying to memorize him.
Then finally he spoked.
"You turned your back on everything."
"I know."
"For her?"
He nodded. "For her. For Celestine. For the family i wanted."
Another pause.
Then his father said, quietly, "We would have done the same."
Lorenzo's face crumpled.
And just like that, the dam broke.
He stepped forward and embraced his father, who froze for a second before slowly wrapping his arms around his son.
I turned away.
Because it felt too private, too sacred.
Because i couldn't stop the tears from falling.
We sat in the receiving room after that.
Claudine, Lorenzo's mother, had Celestine on her lap, asking her questions about her favorite toys, her favorite songs and my daughter, like the star she was, answered everything without hesitation.
It was surreal.
Just hours ago, we were terrified.
Now we were surrounded by warmth we never expected.
"Do you have a wedding date?" Claudine asked, looking at me for the first time.
I opened my mouth but couldn't find the words.
Lorenzo spoke instead.
"Not yet. We're taking things slow."
His mother tilted her head. "You have a child. Another one on the way. What's slow in that?"
I almost choked on my tea.
His father, surprisingly, chuckled.
"She's right," he said. "You've already built the house. You just haven't signed the deed."
They were joking. Gently.
But it felt so strange to be part of this conversation.
Like i'd been dropped into a family dinner i never thought i'd be invited to.
"We're staying in the condo for now," Lorenzo said. "It's neutral ground. A place we can build something new."
Claudine didn't argue.
But her voice softened. "I understand. But this will always be your home too."
Lorenzo nodded.
But i saw the sadness in his eyes.
-
Later that evening, when we were about to leave, Claudine pulled me aside.
"She's beautiful," she said, watching Celestine sleep in Lorenzo's arms.
"She's our everything," I whispered.
She touched my arm.
"I judged you before i ever knew you. I was cruel in my silence and i'm sorry."
I looked up, stunned.
"You're the woman my son chose. The woman he gave everything up for and now i see why."
My throat tightened.
"Thank you," I whispered.
She leaned in, kissed my cheek, and said, "Take care of him. And let us take care of you, too."
-
In the car ride home, I rested my head on Lorenzo's shoulder.
"I didn't expect any of that," I murmured.
"Neither did I."
"They love her," I said.
"They love you too," he whispered.
And i let myself believe it—just a little.
That maybe we weren't broken people forcing something to work.
Maybe we were a family.
Slowly, quietly, finding our way home.