When Davin and Eden returned to the house, the garden was already alive with color and sound. A long wooden table stood beneath the shade of the trees, covered in dishes and bowls brimming with fruit, roasted meat, and fragrant rice. Workers from the hacienda moved about, carrying platters and setting glasses, while several women helped Anica finish arranging the meal.
Ashmaria slumped into the nearest chair and buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders rose and fell with a frustrated sigh. Andrew and Anica exchanged puzzled glances.
"Don't slouch at the table," Davin said sharply, his tone carrying that familiar authority.
Ashmaria lifted her head, pouting. "Okay, okay. But that man was a jerk! I didn't start the trouble this time!"
"You never do," Davin muttered dryly.
Anica set down a platter of grilled fish and looked between them. "Would someone please tell me what happened?"
"She got herself into another argument," Davin said. "As usual."
"I didn't argue—he insulted me first!"
"Enough," came Andrew's calm but firm voice from the other end of the table. He had been speaking to a few workers but turned when he heard the raised voices. At the sound of her father's tone, Ashmaria straightened instantly in her seat, hands clasped on her lap.
"I'm sorry, Papa," she murmured.
Eden couldn't hide her surprise. He didn't even raise his voice, she thought. Just one word and she listens. There was quiet strength in Andrew's presence—something Davin must have inherited.
Anica turned toward Eden with an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry about that, dear. My daughter can be a little stubborn. I hope nothing bad happened?"
Eden shook her head gently. "No harm done. It was just a misunderstanding."
One of the older women nearby glanced curiously at Eden. "Ma'am Anica, is she your niece? I don't think I've seen her before."
Anica chuckled. "Oh, I forgot to introduce her. This is my daughter-in-law, Claire—Davin's wife. They're here for a short stay."
The workers gasped, and one elderly man laughed. "The Commander's married? I thought he'd grow old alone and end up marrying his medals!"
Eden froze, startled by the chorus of laughter that followed. She looked toward Davin, who rubbed the back of his neck in silence, his usual stoic composure slightly cracked. Do they really think he's incapable of love? she wondered.
"Well," Anica said cheerfully, "he's not getting any younger. It's time he found peace." She smiled warmly at Eden. "Every Sunday, we all eat together like this. It's a tradition. I hope that's all right with you?"
"It's perfect," Eden said softly.
She looked around, watching the scene unfold—the men grilling by the trees, children chasing each other near the fountain, women chatting and laughing as if there were no difference between family and workers. The atmosphere was light, full of warmth and belonging. It struck her in the chest like a wave.
Anica's smile faded as she noticed the tears welling in Eden's eyes. "Oh dear, what's wrong?"
Eden brushed at her cheeks, embarrassed. "It's just… this is the first time I've seen something like this. I grew up mostly alone. My mother was always busy, and no one knew about me. I never really had moments like this—a big family meal, laughter, people who care for each other."
Anica's expression softened. "Oh, sweetheart. And here I've gone and made you cry." She gently rubbed Eden's back and led her closer to the table. "Come, sit. You belong here now."
Andrew looked up from carving a roasted pig. "You're crying?" he asked kindly. Davin, who was helping another worker carry a heavy box, turned his head at the sound of his father's voice. Their eyes met briefly—his gaze unreadable, but softer than usual.
"It's my fault," Anica said quickly. "I didn't mean to make her emotional."
"Hmm," said Ashmaria, hands on her hips. "Looks like I'm not the only dramatic one here."
One of the women laughed. "A good meal fixes everything. Here, I brought ripe mangoes!" She set down a large platter, the fruit glowing golden in the sun.
"You're right, Letty!" Anica said cheerfully. "Come, everyone, let's eat."
Eden's attention was caught by the sound of wood creaking nearby. She turned to see Andrew and a few men adjusting a piano on the veranda. "Is that a piano?" she asked, almost breathless.
Andrew nodded. "Yes. Ka Austing's son, Kiko, plays for us every Sunday. He should have been here by now."
"Maybe he got delayed," Letty said, shaking her head. "He promised he'd come this morning."
"Well, we can start lunch while we wait," Anica replied, waving everyone toward their seats. "Ashmaria, since you were sulking earlier, you say grace."
Ashmaria sighed but obeyed, bowing her head. After her short prayer, the meal began. Plates were passed, laughter filled the air, and the aroma of roasted lechon mixed with the sweetness of fruit and fresh air.
Eden sat quietly, taking it all in—the happy chaos, the chatter, the way everyone treated each other like family. So this is what belonging feels like, she thought, her chest aching in the best way.
"Not hungry?" Davin asked, noticing her untouched plate.
"I am," she said softly. "Just… thinking."
"Think faster before Ashmaria eats everything," he said, his voice teasing for once.
Ashmaria grinned, snatched Eden's plate, and began piling it high with food. "Eat. Around here, slow eaters starve."
Eden blinked at the mountain of food now in front of her. "That's… generous," she murmured.
Davin's lips curved slightly as he reached over and rested his hand gently on her head. "Enjoy your meal," he said before walking toward Phillip and Andrew.
The touch startled her—a small, unguarded gesture that made her heart trip over itself. Around the table, a few of the workers exchanged amused glances.
"Oh, look at that," Letty said loudly. "The stoic commander has a sweet side after all. Love truly changes a man!"
Eden's cheeks warmed, and even Davin's usual impassive face betrayed a hint of red. Did he just… blush? she thought, torn between laughter and disbelief.
After lunch, the children played near the fountain while Ashmaria told them fairy tales. Andrew and Phillip discussed farm matters with the men, and the women chatted near the veranda.
"Still no sign of Kiko," Letty muttered. "It's not Sunday without his music."
Eden hesitated, then said softly, "If you'd like… I could play something while we wait."
The women turned toward her, surprised but delighted. "Would you?" Anica said. "Please, that would be wonderful!"
Eden smiled, feeling a flutter of nerves and warmth. She walked toward the piano. Davin's gaze followed her, unreadable again, until she sat down on the worn bench and rested her fingers on the keys.
For a moment, there was silence. Then, the first notes bloomed into the afternoon air—gentle, wistful, like sunlight filtering through leaves. The chatter faded. Every voice quieted.
Eden poured her heart into the music—the ache of years spent alone, the longing for her mother, the fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, she could belong somewhere after all. Her fingers moved instinctively, weaving sadness and comfort into melody.
When the final note lingered in the air, the garden was utterly still. Then she looked up—and saw tears glistening on faces around her. Some of the women were wiping their eyes, others smiling faintly, as though her music had touched a memory they'd forgotten.
A soft clap broke the silence. A young man had arrived at the edge of the veranda, his expression one of pure amazement.
"I didn't know we had a new pianist," he said warmly, stepping closer. "Your music was… beautiful. I've never seen them cry like that before."
Eden rose, flustered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"
He raised a hand. "Don't apologize. You played from the heart."
Ashmaria ran to her side, eyes bright. "Eden! You didn't tell us you could play like that!"
Davin stood from where he'd been watching silently. "Well," he said quietly, his voice unreadable, "I suppose that was to be expected." And with that, he turned and walked into the house.
Eden's smile faltered. Did he not like it? she wondered, her heart dipping slightly.
Ashmaria looped her arm around her shoulders. "Don't mind him. He just doesn't know how to handle feelings."
Eden gave a small laugh, glancing toward the doorway where Davin had disappeared. Maybe not, she thought. But something in him shifted today. I could feel it.