Novels by Cacabayu127

Carissa’s POVI swallowed hard. “I understand work is important. But if there’s always an ‘urgent’ reason, when will we ever have the time?”He rubbed his temples, as if holding back frustration. “I don’t want to argue first thing in the morning. I appreciate that you made breakfast, but that doesn’t mean I’m deliberately ignoring you.”His words made my chest feel hot. “It’s not just about breakfast, Dylan. The problem is you always say ‘later’ or ‘next week.’ I’m only asking for ten minutes.”He set the thermos down on the table a little harder than necessary. “Ten minutes for you could mean an hour late for the project I’m handling. And it’s not as simple as you think.”I froze. His curt tone shattered whatever peace we might have had this morning.He looked at me briefly, then let out a long sigh

Carissa’s POVThe sound of my phone vibrating on the table made me turn. A message had come in. From Dylan.[Working late. Don’t wait for dinner. Go to bed if you’re tired.]I stared at the screen for a long moment, trying to guess the tone hidden behind his short text.I knew he was busy.I knew his projects were piling up.But a small part of me had hoped he’d add I miss you or at least Be careful at home alone.I wiped the foam from my hands, grabbed my phone, and replied:[Okay. Take care!]His reply didn’t come right away, and I didn’t expect much. I already knew his pattern. Dylan was the kind of person who, once buried in work, could forget the world around him.After washing the dishes, I sat on the sofa. The living room lamp was dim, the only light coming from the silent TV. Any movie felt bland when my mind wasn&rsquo

Carissa’s POVstared at the phone screen in my hand. Dylan’s message was still open—short and to the point.[I’ll be home a bit late. There’s an extra meeting.]No emoji, no sweet words. Just a brief sentence like that.Normally, I would understand. He’s been busy lately. But somehow, this afternoon felt heavier. Maybe because I had prepared dinner since noon, hoping we could eat together. Or maybe because I missed him, even though we’d only just seen each other this morning.I walked to the kitchen, checking the dishes I’d already cooked. Steam still rose from the chicken soup. The rice in the cooker was ready. But the atmosphere in the house felt cold.Not because of the air conditioner, but because of the silence.I thought about calling him, but I knew there was a good chance he’d answer in a rushed tone—or worse, not pi

Carissa’s POVDylan sat by me, this time with little space between us.“Carissa,” he said quietly, “I know I’m not great yet. But I want us to talk about the small things without making space.”I closed my book and looked at him."I want that as well. But you must keep in mind, tone is important. Sometimes it’s not the words which hurt but how they are said."He nodded, his expression serious.“Noted. I’ll work on that.”We didn’t talk again after this, but the quiet now felt different. Not the sort that made walls, but the sort that gave room to breathe with each other. I laid my head on his shoulder and he let out a long sigh like a little load on his chest had been taken away.I knew that this bond would not be all easy. There would be some mornings fi

Carissa’s POVI was putting the eating table when a note alert showed up on my phone. I guessed it was from Dylan, but it ended up being from my old work group chat. A coworker had sent a picture from our goodbye party I smiled lightly, thinking about that day.Before I could answer, the flat door opened. Dylan came in, arms of his shirt rolled up, hair a bit messy. “Sorry I am late,” he said placing his work bag on sofa.“It is fine,” I said quick, scooping soup in bowls. “I warm it up already.”He sat down but his eyes stayed on his phone. His hand moved the spoon around without really lifting it up.“Aren’t you hungry?” I asked.“I am just waiting, give me a moment I needs to answer this email.”I let out a soft breath. This wasn’t the first time he came home with hi

Dylan’s POV"You know Dad said softly, I used to feel the same way. With your mom but it turns out learning to be a husband never really ends. Their always something new every day The important thing is never stop learn"I was still for a bit. “Carissa is so kind Dad she always helps me with the small stuff I forget sometimes”"That means you are fortunate. But she is lucky too, because you wish to learn. Marriage isn’t about who’s best, it’s about who is willing to grow together.”I nodded, even though he couldn’t see it.“Thanks, Dad.”“If something occurs, don’t wait to speak to me. You might be a husband now but you’re still a son.”I smiled. “Yeah, Dad. Thanks.”After the phone call finished, I sat still for a bit. Many things

After finishing her water, Jessica returned to the living room to play with Anya. She helped build a little house out of sofa cushions, made a tiny blanket from a handkerchief, and drew windows on paper that they then taped to the sides of the “house.”As midday came and the sun grew hotter, Anya yawned several times. Jessica led her to the bedroom, laying her down in her arms and humming a soft song.Gradually, Anya drifted off to sleep.Jessica stayed there, staring at the plain white ceiling. She felt like the room itself—calm, without unnecessary decorations, but enough.By late afternoon, her phone rang softly. She stepped out of the room so as not to wake Anya. On the screen, Kevin’s name appeared. Jessica stared at it for a few seconds before answering.“Hello?”“Hi, Jess…” Kevin’s voice was cautious. “Can we talk for a bit?”Jessica hesitated. “Now?

Jonas raised his eyebrows. “Well, maybe you don’t know me that well yet.”Jessica laughed softly—a laugh she hadn’t allowed herself to feel freely in a while. It felt good, having that lightness in her again. Free, easy.“Anya,” Jonas called gently as he approached. “Can I sit here?”Anya patted the floor beside her. “Sit here. We’ll build a big bridge.”Jessica smiled. She let Jonas sit and help with the blocks. The three of them formed a small, warm circle. Block by block, color by color, they stacked and arranged. Sometimes it leaned. Sometimes it fell. But they always built it back up together.Before long, Anya began to yawn. She leaned against Jessica’s arm and rubbed her eyes.“Sleepy, sweetheart?” Jessica asked softly.Anya nodded sleepily.Jessica stood, lifting Anya in her arms—her body now heavier, but still

“Auntie, is this a bridge?” she asked, glancing up and pointing at the blocks.Jessica nodded. “Yes, sweetheart. A very beautiful bridge.”Anya giggled, then returned to her task. At the same time, Jessica turned toward the kitchen. She could hear dishes being washed gently, and her father’s breath occasionally shaky with age. Yet, there were no complaints. No angry voices or demands.It had been a long time since Jessica experienced such a peaceful morning.Before, mornings were the most exhausting time: waking up nauseous, hiding the pain, pretending everything was fine. But now, morning had turned into something gentle. She knew her body wasn’t fully healed—there would still be tired days, follow-up visits, and restrictions—but the weight in her chest no longer felt the same.Anya called out again, “Auntie, let’s make a house?”Jessica smiled. “Let’s do it.&rdqu

About half an hour later, Randy emerged from his room, his hair still slightly damp and his shirt a bit wrinkled. “Have you eaten breakfast?”Jessica shook her head. “Not yet, Dad. But Anya’s had her milk.”“Good.” Randy walked to the kitchen, then peeked into the living room. “You look fresher today.”Jessica nodded. “This morning feels lighter.”Randy didn’t say anything else, but the calm smile on his face said it all. He started taking out ingredients for breakfast: eggs, bread, and some leftover stir-fry. Jonas stood up and joined him in the kitchen, as usual offering small help—sometimes accepted, sometimes declined.Jessica remained in the living room, now tidying up Anya’s scattered blocks. Her hands felt stronger today. Her eyes no longer puffy. And for the first time in a long while, she felt not just like she was surviving—but truly living.A

Soon after, Randy came inside, hanging his jacket by the door. “You’ve already cleaned up the kitchen? Looks like I’ve got no chores left today.”Jessica stood and gave her father a quick hug. “It’s team work. This morning, kitchen duty was ours.”Randy smiled and kissed his daughter’s head. “You look fresher this morning.”Jessica nodded. “I do feel better, Dad.”The three of them sat at the dining table, sipping tea and nibbling on biscuits. There were no heavy conversations—just light chatter about blooming flowers in the garden and the neighbor who recently replaced their fence. Jessica listened patiently. She had a quiet desire to capture this morning in her memory. A peaceful morning, without pressure, without big decisions. Just love, in its simplest form.After a while, Jonas glanced at his watch. “I need to head to the hospital—one of my patients need

Jessica nodded. “I know. But… I’m scared. Scared this happiness might not be real. Scared I’m hoping too much.”“That just means you’re human,” Randy replied calmly. “All you need is one thing: allow yourself to believe. Just a little. A little is enough to take the next step.”Jessica gave a faint smile. “I want to believe, Dad.”Randy took her hand—warm and steady. “You’ve come this far. That’s more than enough for today.”The front door creaked open. Anya toddled over in her elephant-print pajamas, slightly loose-fitting. “Auntieee! Hug!”Jessica laughed—finally, a light, genuine laugh—and opened her arms wide. “Come here, sweetheart…”Anya jumped into her lap, nestling her face into Jessica’s chest, then whispered, “Auntie’s all better now?”Jessica kissed the top