Nancy and Simon exhaled with visible relief.
Reginald settled silently beside the fireplace, his gaze fixed on the television with deliberate indifference.
Alex and Naosa carried their luggage down to his childhood room in the basement.
Once they were finally alone, Alex drew her into a fierce embrace.
“I’m so sorry for putting you through that,” he whispered against her hair.
Naosa shook her head with gentle forgiveness. “It’s all right. And I’m sorry for making you worry.”
But her eyes drifted toward a framed photograph of African landscapes—an echo of the life Alex had lived before her.
When Alex leaned down to kiss her, she instinctively turned her face away.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, barely audible.
Alex stepped back and sighed softly. “Nao… this is about Emily, isn’t it?”
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Tears filled Naosa’s eyes and spilled over like an incoming tide.
“I know she belongs to your past,” she said through trembling lips, “but your family still cherishes her memory. And when I imagine you smiling at her the way you smile at me—touching her, holding her—it feels like my heart might shatter.”
Alex pulled her close again, stroking her hair with infinite tenderness.
“Don’t cry, Nao. I’m sorry for the pain I caused you.”
He drew a slow breath.
“I was involved with Emily during my years in Africa. Apart from you, she was probably the longest relationship I ever had.
Before you, I was… terrible. Women seemed drawn to me even when I wasn’t looking. I never truly loved anyone; I just drifted from one relationship to the next without a second thought.”
He paused, forcing himself to continue.
“Emily’s father directed the institute where I worked. That’s how we met. I knew getting involved with her would be a mistake, so I tried to avoid it—I even applied for assignments in Africa to escape. But she followed me anyway. We ended up working in the same lab.”
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“In that isolation, we began a relationship. But even then, I kept seeing other women. I never hid it. I broke her heart—and the worst part was, I didn’t even care. I thought that was normal.”
He met Naosa’s eyes. “Meeting you changed everything. You made me want to be better. Without you, I might have become someone I’d despise.”
“As we neared thirty, she started talking about marriage. I wanted no part of it, so I completely avoided her.
One Christmas, she showed up at the airport and came home with me as if she belonged there. I thought she was just visiting—but she walked into my parents’ house like it was her own.”
Naosa blinked. “You never officially introduced her?”
“Never,” Alex said. “I had no intention of marrying her. She was trying to push the issue.
When her parents flew to Africa to meet me, I refused to see them. I told them flatly I wouldn’t marry their daughter.
After that, I thought it was over. I accepted Miguel’s offer and left for Saint Clarion without saying goodbye.”
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Naosa sat in silence, her expression unreadable. Then she lifted her head.
“You’re awful.”
Alex winced. “I know.”
“You abandoned someone who loved you—and betrayed her completely.” Her voice trembled, color draining from her face.
Panic flashed across Alex’s features.
“I swear I’ll never treat you that way. Never. My hands, my heart, my whole life—they’re yours. Until my last breath.”
He pressed her palms against his chest so she could feel his heartbeat.
But Naosa’s gaze lingered on the photograph again.
“That picture…”
Alex pulled her gently back into his arms.
“Someone else took it. I just happened to be smiling. Nothing more.”
Naosa reminded herself that the past couldn’t be rewritten—but the warmth in his eyes, the tears, the sincerity—those belonged entirely to her.
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She leaned up and kissed him with quiet resolve.
Alex responded with a hunger born not of desire alone, but of love and remorse.
Just as the air thickened between them, the door burst open.
“Alex, Mom wants to know what you’d like for dinner tonight,” Karen announced brightly.
Naosa shot upright, her face blazing red.
“Karen!” Alex groaned, pushing her back out of the room. “Ever heard of knocking?!”
Grumbling under his breath, he muttered, “Unbelievable…”
Naosa laughed softly, shaking her head, and began unpacking their things.
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Together they arranged their gifts beneath the family’s Christmas tree.
When Nancy called them for dinner, they entered hand in hand.
Alex’s voice was steady, but his expression betrayed tension.
“As you’ve probably guessed,” he said, “this is my fiancée, Nao.”
Naosa smiled gracefully. “It’s an honor to meet you all.”
She noticed a small upright piano in the corner, long neglected.
“Does someone in the family play?” she asked.
Nancy smiled wistfully. “My mother-in-law used to play beautifully. The girls learned a bit, but no one’s touched it in years.”
“May I?” Naosa asked.
Nancy nodded, intrigued.
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The piano was dusty but not hopelessly out of tune.
As her fingers brushed the keys, Naosa imagined a younger Margaret playing beside a laughing child.
She began to play softly, letting a melody rise from that vision.
Reginald turned sharply—it was one of Margaret’s old pieces.
Moments later, Margaret appeared in the doorway, her eyes bright with sudden recognition.
She approached, her trembling hands finding the keys beside Naosa’s.
Slowly. Tenderly.
Naosa stopped, allowing her to continue.
Alex rested a hand on Naosa’s shoulder.
Nancy, Karen, and Simon stood frozen—Margaret hadn’t been this lucid in years.
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When the song ended, Naosa applauded softly.
“That was beautiful, Lady Margaret. It was an honor to play with you.”
Simon joined in, tears streaming down his face.
For a fleeting moment, his mother had come back to them.
“Let’s have dinner,” Nancy said, her voice thick with emotion.
Naosa helped Margaret to the table, but soon the old woman stood again, flustered.
“Oh dear, I completely forgot to walk the dog!”
Nancy’s face fell with worry, but Naosa smiled gently.
“Lady Margaret, I already took him out. He’s sleeping now—we shouldn’t wake him.”
Margaret relaxed. “Oh, how silly of me.”
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Then she peered curiously at Naosa. “Who are you, dear?”
Naosa pointed toward Alex. “I’m his fiancée.”
Margaret looked at Alex blankly. “And who is he?”
Naosa turned to Simon, still smiling. “That’s my fiancé’s father.”
Margaret studied Simon closely. “You look so much like my darling boy, Simon. How peculiar.”
Simon smiled through tears.
When Naosa gestured toward Reginald, Margaret said thoughtfully,
“You look just like Reggie’s father.”
Reginald froze. He hadn’t heard that nickname in years.
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Then Margaret looked back at Naosa, eyes soft with clarity.
“What should I call you?”
“You may call me Nao,” she replied warmly.
Margaret nodded. “She loves you deeply,” she said to Alex, her voice suddenly clear and strong.
“Reggie was difficult in his youth too. But he brought me flowers every day.
He said he’d die if I didn’t marry him. It was terribly annoying—but it made me happy.
I loved him with all my heart. Still do. But don’t tell him I said that.”
All eyes turned to Reginald.
He muttered, “I don’t recall any such thing,” but the emotion in his face betrayed him.
For the first time in years, genuine laughter filled the O’Neill home—
a melody more healing than any song
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