216JOANA’S POVThe garden never appeared so enchanted.The sunlight streamed through the willow upon the white-covered chairs, wove through the aisle sprinkled with petals of the flowers, and above the small arch of vines and rose blush. And the air filled my nostrils with lavender and fresh earth, a mingling scent, reminding me of peace.Soothing music was in the background. A gentle piano melody—the one Clinton had chosen.The seats were full and people attended it quietly. Caleb was standing beside the archway in a grey suit, which rounded off the angularity of his character. His eyes took a moment to meet mine through the distance and he nodded at me encouragingly. Ciara whirred through, just putting the final touches, clutching her clipboard like a relic of the holy. Mirabel, Japheth, and Jake were giddy in their mini-formals, fidgeting with their roles but glowing all the same.And I?I stood, as inaudible as possible, with a beating heart hidden behind the curtain of my veil,
215JOANA’S POVI stared at him, with my eyes closing against the emotion that rose in me. "You don’t need to break a sweat, Caleb.”“Yes, I do,” he said quietly. “Because this isn’t just about me. It never was. You’ve been through hell, Joana. And you came back stronger. Smarter. Softer, too. You deserve this happiness. You deserve a future. If I can’t be the one walking beside you in it… the least I can do is stand by while you walk into it.”My tears flowed before I had time to restrain them.I rose and walked over to where he sat, got down on my knees before the chair. I would have asked something selfish.He turned down his head with an expression, inscrutable to me. “Go on.”"We have not fixed upon a date yet," I said, with a nervous laugh I wiped my cheeks. “But we know it won’t be long. Clinton’s getting stronger, faster than anyone thought. And now that we’ve decided, it just… it feels right to get on with it.”Caleb nodded.“So I was going to ask if… if you could wait. Just
214JOANA’S POVThe room became silent for a while, it wasn't the awkward kind.“Oh?” Clinton leaned forward slightly. “Good one, I hope?”“A very big one.” Caleb smiled, but again—it felt too manufactured. “It’s a long-term expansion deal. Overseas. Possibly in Europe. Might take… a while.”I frowned. “How long is a while?”He shrugged, eyes darting away. “Months. Maybe longer. Could be… years.”I sat forward. “Caleb, that’s… that’s big.”“Yeah.” His voice dropped. “It is.”There was a beat of silence before he added, more quietly than before, “I’ll be leaving next week.”Clinton blinked. “That soon?”“Negotiations just wrapped. I need to be there to finalise and oversee the groundwork.”I studied him carefully. His body language wasn’t just that of someone preparing for a business trip. There was weight in his voice—farewell weight. The kind people use when they’ve already decided they won’t be coming back.“You’re not planning on returning, ” I said, not as a question but a truth.
213JOANA’S POVI felt the world narrow, spinning inward like a collapsing tunnel. All the progress. All the hope. Gone in one instant.“No,” I whispered. “No, that can’t be right. You were just—last night—you stood. You danced with me. You—”“I know,” Clinton murmured. “It was the last time. I should’ve known. It hurt more than I let on.”I staggered back a step. My breath hitched. I was about to break.And then—Caleb laughed.Not a nervous chuckle. Not a sympathetic smile.No.He burst into laughter.I blinked. Once. Twice.“What… what did you just—?”Caleb doubled over, slapping Clinton’s shoulder like a proud prankster. “Oh my God, Joana! Your face—your face! I wish I’d recorded it!”Clinton broke into a grin.“You guys—?” I stared between them, stunned. “You lied to me?!”Caleb wiped a tear from his eye. “Clinton’s leg is fine. Better than fine. That cast? It’s not even his. It was used earlier in a therapy demonstration, and we borrowed it for dramatic effect.”Clinton shrugged
212 JOANA’S POV The house was unusually quiet for a Saturday afternoon. The kind of quiet that felt loaded. Intentional. Like the walls were holding their breath. Normally, weekends at our place were loud and unpredictable—filled with Mirabel’s endless curiosity, Japheth and Jake’s wrestling matches, and the occasional crash followed by a “We’re okay!” from somewhere down the hall. But today? Today was different. Today was Clinton’s return. The kids had taken it upon themselves to transform the living room into what they called “Daddy’s Welcome Palace.” Streamers hung unevenly from the ceiling fan. Bright paper crafts dangled from picture frames. However, there was glitter, not the fun kind, it was all over the coffee table, like a fairy crime scene. And central in it all was this new masterpiece of Mirabel, a colossal signboard which ran: WELCOME BACK SUPER DADDY ...in large bubble letters outlined with purple stars and crooked sparkles. I was standing there at th
211JOANA’S POVOn our way home, the children were asleep already.Mirabel had cuddled up next to Clinton in the car holding his shirt in a tiny hand as though she had no intention of ever releasing him. In the back seat, Japheth and Jake lay out cold, their arms and legs intertwined like puppies.Caleb carried them tenderly to their room; Clinton and I being leisurely enough to get Mirabel to bed. Something about the mean girl, and the pretty slide and then she closed her eyes and slept very deeply and very happily.After that Clinton and I went together down the hall a few steps, the house looking dreamily orange in the sconce-lights, shadows leaping and jouncing on the walls."So... fiancée?" I said, arms across, one eyebrow coming up.He looked sheepish."Yeah, I figured you'd catch that.""You think?""It slipped out. Heat of the moment. You were being slapped, and I was being protective. It just... came out."I chuckled. "Mmm. Protective Clinton comes with labels now. Got it."H