Chapter 51: Chapter 51

◇ KEL ◇

To my utter disadvantage, his simple greeting caused my heart to do backflips in my chest, and I almost cracked a smile.

But, no―I wouldn't take it easy on him. I'd give him a dose of his own medicine first...maybe even leave him standing on my parents' front porch just for snubbing me the past weeks.

So he was too busy to return my calls and reply to my texts, but not too busy to fly all the way out here just to bring me cake and a bouquet?

"Glad you didn't forget," I muttered. The posy of tulips, roses, and sunflowers sat quietly on the pink cake box. Okay. So he hadn't forgotten my top three favorites.

"Sorry I didn't catch the party." Miles handed me the flowers and held the cake box with one arm.

Indeed he was hours late for my luncheon party, but at least he took the time to be here and bring me birthday gifts. I stopped pretending to be busy smelling the roses. I tilted my head to regard him.  Although the party was over, his presence today still mattered.

My days and nights had only ranged from gloomy to unusually unproductive since my dad's funeral. But Miles was here now. Right in front of me. It felt like all of my depression just vanished. No logical explanation sufficed.

Quiet seconds passed as I kept staring back into his thoughtful eyes. His heedful gaze hadn't left my face yet. He didn't even blink.  I bit the inside of my cheek and glanced away. Despite my attempt to look unimpressed, my self-will eventually let a smile widen on my lips.

He didn't forget about today―he even came here to greet me in person.

Did he also plan to celebrate with my family? The idea brought relief from all the anxious sentiments that had taken root in the crevices of my brain―my overworked, sometimes irrational, often neurotic brain.

"Missed you." Miles grinned and took a step closer.   "Happy 26th."  He leaned in to kiss my cheek.

A quick one, but the gesture almost made me pull away. I put on a smile for him. Be friendly. Casual. Just act unaffected or whatever, my pride dictated.  "Thanks." I pulled the door wide open. Maybe he wouldn't stay for long. Maybe he just wanted to see how I was faring. "Come in."

"Is your mom home?" Miles glanced around and placed the big cake box in my parents' living room. "Sorry about your dad."

"They're upstairs, with Meesha," I mumbled. "You flew in this morning?"

"Yeah," Miles said with a fleeting grin. "Nice house. The lot's bigger than I imagined. Had friends over?"

"Just Gaia and the neighbors."

"Ah. Gaia." He stood by the long sofa and skimmed the interior design. "She's still here?"

"Just went home. She helped me study." I walked away from him to put the flowers in a vase on the altar in the hall. I tugged at the hem of my dress and hastily combed my hair with my fingers. Did I smell like the couch? I sniffed my clothes for a second. Cologne―check.

Should I offer him a drink? He must be hungry after hours of traveling.  Should I cut and serve the cake now?  Hours of cooking and entertaining my guests left Jill and my mom tired, and, most likely, the two were still in siesta mode.

"Exams again?" Miles sat down on the long couch where some of my handwritten medical notes lay scattered.  "When's your graduation?"

"Hopefully in less than two years. You just got here? Private plane?"

"Who said I have one?" Miles snickered and sat back, untying his quite unruly dark hair to let it loose on his shoulders. "Would you stop fussing and get over here?" His brows creased while he watched me. "Got some catchin' up to do."

"And whose fault is that?" I scoffed at his contagious smile and stopped tidying up the living room―which wasn't even messy―and finally convinced myself to sit beside him. Sit still. Chat about him being here.

For a moment, we just sat on the sofa, arms and legs touching, his forearm resting against mine while he caressed my hand. "Need to talk to your mom."

◇◇◇

Meet the family...

Spend quality time with me and catch up...

Alright. It didn't sound that bothersome. Maybe he just wanted to rekindle our friendship?

Something about it didn't feel comforting, though. I looked away, tongue-tied all of a sudden. Did he have something important to talk to my mom about?

"Miles! You're here."

"Hi." Miles quickly stood up from the couch, the instant grin on his pale lips quite abashed. "Evening, Mrs. Nielsen."

My mother's greeting, although cordial, only slipped more nervousness into my thoughts. I feigned an equally pleasant expression while Mommy Tilda walked down the stairs with a welcoming smile and her silky brown hair tied up in a loose bun. "Mom, Miles dropped by. Brought cake and flowers."

"So nice of you, Miles." My mom kept smiling at our guest as she approached him in a rush. "Just flew out of Brichese?"

"Yes. Connecting flight."

"Mrs. Nielsen?" My mom made a face. "Call me Tilda. Or just Auntie." She gave Miles a quick hug. "Finally! Face-to-face."

"Finally." His short laugh sounded timid.

"Kagwapo gyud diay niya, 'nak." My mom scanned his features with her manicured hands on his taller shoulders.

"Mom..." I glanced away.

"I'm sorry?" Miles kept up his shy grin, obviously confused by my mother's comment and first language.

"Even more handsome in person." My mom put her hand on his arm, and then looked at me. "K, why didn't you say anything? I could've prepared a proper dinner."

"I-I didn't know he...  I just saw him on the porch, Mom."  I almost slapped myself. Why was I stuttering?

My mom frowned again.  "Aren't you staying the night, Miles?"

"Would love to, but, she's busy studying." Miles wore a convincing look of disappointment after glancing at my medical books on the couch.

"No. Stay the night and rest. You've spent all day on planes," my mom said, her attention still focused on our guest. "You must be starving. I'll just get the table ready, dear.  Show Miles the guest room, sweetie."

A slow nod was my only response.  Now I couldn't stop clenching my cold hands behind me.

This would be the first time he was interacting with my family after all, and my mom was so particular about treating house guests the best possible way. Keeping busy seemed to be my mother's coping mechanism, and I knew better than to show any resistance.

The two kept up the small talk for a minute. Then Miles turned to me with a grin. "Wanna try the cake?" he asked when I kept quiet. "It's your favorite." He grabbed the cake box and opened it in front of me.

It was a two-tier cake. The lower part looked mocha brown, cream fondant covered the smaller layer, and written in thin icing was a short but cute greeting:

" HAPPY 26th, MYKAELA!

Much love, M "

My cheeks warmed up at the note. My breathing went choppy as I stood beside him, just staring at the cake like an idiot, like I suddenly forgot how to speak.

"What's it say?" In just seconds, Mommy had already placed the cake on the dinner table. "So sweet." She smiled faintly at the birthday greeting. "You two are just so cute."

So cute?

I felt my forehead scrunch. As far as I recalled, my parents didn't even like him that much.

"You're too trusting. You barely know him," was in fact their common opinion back then. My family had strongly disapproved when I moved out of New York to work overseas and live with Miles. But now my mother thought Miles and I were being "so sweet" and "so cute"?

Hold up—  What's going on?

"You okay?" Miles put his arm around me, checking me out, his nose softly brushing against my cheek. "Hey. Just breakin' the ice here." Now he hugged me to his side.

Did he not care that my mom could see us from the dining room? This was his idea of breaking the ice? Making my nerves act up? Making my breathing hitch? Making my pulse race like wildfire just because he kept hugging me close?

"Yeah." I budged to look away from his curious gaze. "Just tired."

"Same. Let's sleep early." His warm breath fanned my cheek.

Despite the coiling in my gut, I let his arm rest on my shoulders. I even put on a small smile just to seem glad that he was here to meet my family.  I glanced around while he stood too close.

Sunlight passed through the windows and spread all over the living room. It highlighted the bold-printed title on my Neuroanatomy book. Ugh. I should be reading through my textbooks like a madman by now, instead of whiling the evening away with him to make up for lost time and whatnot.

"Why're you here?" I muttered after a lengthy silence.

As if bothered by my question, Miles went completely still. It wasn't something he expected, clearly.  "What's wrong?" he murmured.

Of course. Deflection. Like always...  I sighed in dismay. Fine. I had to give him time to sort out his thoughts. Time to make up excuses.

So I waited.  But just as I expected, he didn't say anything more. He barely even moved.

"I'll get the guest room ready." I pulled away from him and walked off.

Chill.

Calm and composed.

Not worth the energy.

◇

"Jill! We have guests." Just minutes before six o'clock, my mom got busier in the dining room and called for my sister.

Miles helped my mom prepare the table, and since I left the door to the guest room wide open, I could hear every second of their conversation. My parents' house wasn't that big.

"Sorry to hear about Mykaela's dad, Auntie." It was Miles talking again, his voice clear despite the wall separating the dining area from the dim hallway where I stood. He probably stood close to the dining room entrance. "Sorry I didn't catch the service. Had to take care of something, for work."

"Least you made it to her birthday." It was my mom speaking now. "K's been sulking for weeks 'cause you didn't show up."

Mom! Jeez...

I wanted to interject, but I couldn't.  I frowned at my mother's comment and instead checked the linens in the guest room.

Distract. Don't overreact. Calm thoughts...

"How's your parents, dear?" my mom asked Miles in a more mellow voice this time. "Any chance we'll meet them soon? Jill's staying here with Meesha for the meantime, to keep me company. David, her husband, travels all the time."

"Same with my folks," Miles replied. His mumbling sounded rather chill more than anything. "Pappa especially. Mamma handles the finances, and, my cousin and his wife handle the shipping company and the factories. They wanna meet you guys, too."

"I'd like that. Italians are tight-knit indeed. K mentioned you're working for your dad now?"

"Yeah. I mostly deal with the new investors, though. After the merger, I'm going back to Brichese. I prefer being a small-time painter." Miles chuckled.

"New job too stressful, dear?"

"You could say that." His voice broke off. "Dealing with people from old money...not really my thing."

"How so?" my mom asked while cutlery clinked against dishes.

"Um...I guess, my parents and I...we don't have the best relationship." A long pause. "Safe to say my father's the extreme opposite of Mykaela's dad." Another pause. "He even made me sign a contract."

"But I know he appreciates that you work for the family business now. It's every father's dream for his son, I suppose. Only child, at that."

"Once the merger's done and sealed, I'm going back to Brichese. I need a more private life," Miles said.  It sounded like he was working for his father because he had no choice.

For some reason I had yet to comprehend, he spent a while just sharing about his personal life, and my mom just listened to his storytelling. She even gave him some "adulting" advice.

Weird.

Five minutes in and he already felt so at ease around my family. He even told my mom about his difficult childhood and teenage years, his addiction problems during college, and all that.

But telling me the truth about him showing up here was out of the question?  I frowned at the thought. I'd barely made it out of the guest room when Miles struck up a new conversation with my mother.

"This sounds too late to mention, but..."  He hesitated for a moment. "Sorry I didn't ask for your permission first. I mean, before she moved to Brichese to live with me."

What now?  I listened in and almost choked on my own saliva. What the heck did he just say?  He's apologizing?  I moved to Italy "to live with him"?

"All good now, dear,"  Mommy said. "Don't worry about it."

"Should've talked to you and Mr. Nielsen before..." Miles balked. "About the..."

"About what, dear?"

"Mamma talked to me some months ago, and made me realize...you expected some formality at least, and that I should've respected your beliefs." Miles cleared his throat, sounding a tad nervous now. "And because―   To be honest, Mykaela really took care of me."

I slapped my own forehead with both palms. Took care of him?  Wasn't it the other way around?  While I tried to build up my career in his home country, Miles helped me deal with anxiety and depression in more ways than I could remember.  Why tell my mom a different story?

Miles got quiet for a while before I heard him speak again, his tone still serious. "Should've asked for your permission to take her to church first, before asking her to move in with me. Clear lapse of judgement on my part. Sorry."

Whoa— Whoa—

Whoa.

What on Earth did he just say?

"Permission to take me to church"?

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