Chapter 67
"Who is it?"
David Sullivan wiped his hands on his apron.
He glanced at the freshly braised fish.
He carefully placed it at the center of the dining table.
Then he turned to answer the door.
Isabella was trimming a potted plant in the living room.
She looked up at the courtyard. "Is that Ryan?"
"Ryan said he's coming tomorrow. It must be Mrs. Wang with the organic eggs. I asked her to bring some since your stomach's been upset—"
At the doorway.
Sophia Sullivan stood quietly, watching her father open the door.
Six years had silvered more frost at his temples.
Deep wrinkles now carved his once-square jaw.
She remembered watching the world from his broad shoulders as a child.
Now that strong back was slightly stooped.
Only his eyes remained clear and sharp.
Just as piercing as they were six years ago.
"Dad..." Her voice trembled.
David stared from shock to disbelief.
His face suddenly darkened. "You finally decided to come back?"
No sound came from the yard for a long moment.
Isabella put down her shears and walked out. "David? Who is it—"
Her words cut off.
A watering can crashed to the ground.
Sophia's eyes welled up.
Her mother was still elegant and beautiful.
Time had been kind to her.
Their eyes met.
She choked out, "Mom..."
Isabella's hands shook slightly.
Her lips parted several times.
But no complete words emerged.
Finally, she spoke hoarsely. "David... let her in first."
The living room felt as stifling as the air before a summer thunderstorm.
David sat stiffly on the couch, his face stormy. "Why are you back? Did you forget all your vows?"
Six years ago, Sophia had abandoned her combined Master's and Ph.D. program for a man.
He was the last to know.
That night, his blood pressure spiked, and he was rushed to the emergency room.
He had poured his heart into raising his daughter.
He never imagined she would throw away her future for love.
He still remembered traveling all the way to Kyoto to confront her.
She had stated firmly, without a hint of doubt, that she would never regret it.
The memory still made his chest tighten.
"I told you then. Go chase your love. We'll live our lives. It's like we never had a daughter!"
"Dad..." Tears streamed down Sophia's face.
"Don't call me that." David turned away. "I don't have the fortune to be your father."
His agitation caused his blood pressure to soar.
Isabella quickly patted his back. "You know you have hypertension! Why are you shouting?"
After scolding her husband, she looked at her daughter.
This child... her stubbornness was heartbreaking!
They had pleaded and scolded back then.
But she insisted on jumping into the fire.
Isabella had written about countless lovesick women.
She never thought her own daughter would be more stubborn than any character in her books.
Hopelessly ruled by her heart!
She hardened her own and said coldly, "Your father's health can't take this. If you still consider us your parents, you should leave now."
A sob caught in Sophia's throat.
Tears blurred her vision.
"Mom, Dad, I'm sorry. I know I was wrong..."
"Dad, I know you always wanted me to soar. I failed you."
She took a deep breath and turned to her mother. "Mom, you taught me a woman should be independent and strong. I'm sorry I failed at that too..."
"I came back because I missed you. And to beg for a chance to make things right."
All these years, she hadn't dared to come home.
She was afraid to see the disappointment in their eyes.
She also wanted to prove her choice wasn't wrong.
But reality had slapped her hard.
Not only was she wrong.
She was terribly, utterly wrong.
David's pupils trembled slightly.
She was finally admitting her mistake?
Isabella's nose stung.
If she hadn't suffered enough.
Her stubborn daughter would never lower her head and say "I was wrong."
"Do you really mean it?" David's voice had noticeably softened.
Sophia pressed her lips together. "I realized it a long time ago. I just didn't dare face you..."
She looked up cautiously. "Mom, Dad... can I stay for the New Year?"
David turned his face away to hide his tears.
He said gruffly, "Since you're here, you might as well stay."
Isabella let out a relieved sigh. "Why are you still standing there? Bring your luggage to your room! The food's getting cold..."
The tears Sophia had been holding back broke free again.
She cried and laughed. "I missed you so much. I finally found my way home."
Isabella's eyes glistened.
She reached out and pulled her long-lost daughter into her arms.
Six years of separation.
Their family was finally whole again.
...
They held each other and cried for a long time before gradually calming down.
David refused to admit he had been crying. "Haven't you seen someone with winter conjunctivitis before?"
Isabella rolled her eyes.
Pretend! Just keep pretending!
She gently touched her daughter's swollen eyes. "Look at you. You come home and make the whole family cry."
Sophia hugged her mother's arm. "I missed you... How have you been these past few years?"
David straightened up. "Perfectly fine! Don't you worry."
Sophia looked at them carefully.
Her father looked older, but his complexion was ruddy.
Her mother was so well-preserved she looked like she hadn't aged.
She unconsciously rubbed her eyes.
Isabella lightly slapped her hand. "How many times have I told you not to rub your eyes?"
"David, go boil some eggs for Sophia to help with the swelling. How is she going to see anyone tomorrow if her eyes are like walnuts?"
David nodded repeatedly.
The corners of his mouth turned up uncontrollably. "I'll go do it now."
He reached the kitchen and suddenly remembered. "I haven't finished cooking! After boiling the eggs, I need to hurry up and stir-fry—"
Isabella stood up, muttering. "Were you secretly trying to make my braised fish again? You never get it right, but you always insist on trying..."
"I saw you were busy. Three dishes aren't enough, are they? I'll go to the market and buy more—"
"Remember to get some pork belly."
"I know. It's Sophia's favorite."
Listening to her parents bicker.
A warm feeling spread through Sophia's heart.
She turned to look out the window—
The storm had passed.
The sky was clear again.
It felt good.