LOGINGaara was certain he was hallucinating when he saw a silver haired woman standing in front of his house. No. That was impossible. It could not be Esther. Aside from Gaara himself, only two people knew about this place. Uncle Yoshi and his father.Even when Gaara stepped down from the jeep and took off his sunglasses, just to make sure the scorching sunlight was not playing tricks on his eyes, the figure was still there. The closer he walked, the more certain he became.It was Esther.Something inside him surged and broke its restraints all at once. His emotions spilled everywhere, wild and ungoverned. Yet beneath all of that chaos, Gaara could not deny the quiet gratitude blooming in his chest. She was here. Especially when only moments ago he had nearly made a choice he might never have been able to undo.When his arms finally closed around her, relief flooded him, warm and overwhelming. He did not know how Esther had found her way to this place. He did not know who had brought her.
Since leaving the house that had once been the place where he spent his days with his beloved mother, Gaara never imagined there would come a time when he would return. Just as he had expected, not a single part of the house had changed. His father must have done everything in his power to keep it exactly the same as it was the last time his mother lived there. Gaara could see it in the flower garden, and in the gazebo where his mother used to sit with him, reading him fairy tales in a gentle voice.Gaara could not lie to himself. The house reflected his mother’s personality perfectly. Every corner forced memories of her back into his mind. The moment he first stepped through the front door, it felt as if he were seeing the ghost of his mother from the past.On his journey to Australia, Gaara had imagined hundreds of scenarios for what he would do with this house. The first idea that crossed his mind was to clean everything, to make the place livable again, and to stay there until the
As promised, after visiting his wife’s grave, Jorge drove Esther to the old house where his late wife had once lived, the place Esther believed Gaara might be staying. Jorge himself was not convinced that his son would be there. Gaara had strong reasons for choosing to stay with him rather than return to that house.Yet somehow, Esther dismantled every one of Jorge’s doubts with nothing but her wild intuition.Meanwhile, guilt continued to weigh heavily on Esther’s chest. After hearing Jorge’s story about his late wife, she began to understand Gaara more deeply. Gaara had grown up believing that his mother had died because her love for his father was too great. It made sense that he would become cynical, that he would harbor resentment toward Jorge. Still, Esther could not bring herself to judge either of them. What frustrated her most was the long, painful misunderstanding that had been allowed to fester, despite the fact that they had once had the chance to mend it. She could not un
Esther truly had no idea that she could be this fortunate in her life.Just fifteen minutes ago, she had been completely overwhelmed, on the verge of tears because there were no cars left for pickup. It was true that the decision she had made this time was, without question, the craziest one she had ever taken. Flying to Australia without knowing a single soul, without even knowing the address of the place she was supposed to go. All Esther had were old photographs of Gaara with his late mother. That was her only anchor. Her plan had been simple and reckless at the same time. Rent a car, drive around, and look for a house that resembled the one in the pictures she remembered.That was when the kind man she had met on the plane suddenly approached her. Because of her past experiences with strangers, Esther had hesitated to tell him the truth. Yet, remembering the kindness he had shown her, she chose to believe that he was not someone with bad intentions.“Ah, I’m Jorge Maxwell. The per
“Sorry?” the girl replied, looking slightly startled by the question Jorge had just asked her.“Your dream.”“A ah… it it’s nothing,” she answered, a little flustered as she shook her head. “I’m sorry, but it’s not really the kind of thing that’s pleasant to talk about.”Jorge nodded. “Alright then. But when I look at you, you remind me of my youngest son. I think he’s about your age.”For a brief moment, the girl looked intrigued. “Really? How old is he?”“He’s turning twenty two this year.”The girl nodded. “Oh. Really? Same as me.”“So, if you don’t mind me asking, what is a girl like you doing traveling alone? Are you going to visit someone?”For a moment, she seemed to weigh her answer. Her expression shifted slightly. Then, after a pause, she nodded. “Yes. Something like that.”“Family?”“Oh, no. Just a friend.”“I suppose that friend must be pretty special if you’re willing to fly alone like this.”Jorge chuckled when he saw her cheeks turn pink. “Ah n no, it’s not like that,”
“Sir, are you alright?” The woman in a gray blazer who had been walking behind him asked, worry written plainly across her face.The line in front of them moved forward. The man she had spoken to stepped ahead from his spot and answered in a detached tone, “I’m fine.”Apparently, she was not the only one paying attention to him. Another man, traveling with him on that commercial flight for business purposes, was also watching. He stood farther back in the line, a little distance away.Though not many people here recognized his face, the man was in fact one of Europe’s most successful figures. Jorge Maxwell. A businessman whose wealth surpassed what more than seventy percent of the world’s population would ever earn in their lifetime. With that kind of money, owning a private jet would have been effortless. Yet for reasons known only to him, Jorge had chosen to fly commercial for this particular trip.Travel like this was nothing new to him. His life had long been a blur of airports an







