chapter 12

Vanessa's POV

"Eva, who's at the door?"

The familiar yet distant voice floated through the hallway, instantly making my stomach churn. I already knew who it was—my beloved grandmother, Diana.

I watched as she slowly made her way toward us. She looked… different. It had been years since I'd last seen her, but something about her presence still made the air around us feel heavy. Her once jet-black hair had completely faded into gunmetal grey, tied neatly into a ponytail. Fine wrinkles creased her face, a testament to the years that had passed. But her eyes—those dull, lifeless eyes—still held the same coldness I remembered. The same unspoken resentment.

"Hello, Diana," Mom greeted her with a warm, polite tone, as if she hadn't just been met with an icy glare.

Diana's gaze swept over my mother and then landed on me. For a moment, I swore I saw something flicker in her expression—something other than anger. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by nothing but restrained irritation.

"Mom," Aunt Eva stepped beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder as if to ease the tension.

"Welcome," Diana said finally, her voice devoid of any real warmth. It was more of a formality than a genuine sentiment. We were anything but welcome here. And yet, here we were.

Without another word, she turned and walked back into the house, disappearing down the hallway.

"I'm sorry about that, Alisa," Aunt Eva said softly, glancing at my mother with an apologetic look.

"It's okay, Eva," Mom murmured with a sigh, forcing a small smile before stepping inside.

"Come on in, please," Aunt Eva urged, holding the door open for us.

As I stepped inside, an unexpected wave of nostalgia hit me.

This place really hasn't changed.

I stood in the entryway, my eyes scanning the familiar walls. The house still had that same old-fashioned charm—the wooden floors that had once echoed with the sound of my tiny footsteps, the yellowed wallpaper with delicate white borders, the narrow hallway leading to the living room. To the left was the dining room, and just beyond it, the staircase that led to the bedrooms.

My gaze drifted to the coat rack near the entrance, and as I moved to hang my jacket, something caught my eye—a collection of framed photographs on the wall.

I stepped closer.

The first photo was of my grandparents on their wedding day. My grandmother, once so full of life, stood in a stunning white dress, holding a bouquet of fresh flowers. Grandpa stood beside her, looking at her with so much love in his eyes. The contrast between then and now was heartbreaking.

The second photo was Aunt Eva's high school graduation. She stood proudly beside her boyfriend—who was now her husband—both beaming as they held their diplomas.

Then, my eyes landed on a picture of my dad.

A soft chuckle escaped my lips.

There he was, posing like an actor with one foot propped up on a chair, a leather jacket slung over his shoulder, and… was that a lollipop in his mouth?

"A lollipop? Seriously?" Aunt Eva's voice suddenly came from behind me.

I turned to see her standing beside me, staring at the photo with amusement.

"Whenever I look at this picture, all I can think is… a lollipop? Seriously?" she chuckled.

"I was just thinking the same thing," I admitted, shaking my head with a smile.

Before we could say anything else, a soft voice broke through our conversation.

"Mommy…"

I turned toward the dining room, where a small figure peeked out from behind the wall. Only his little face was visible, his chubby hands gripping the edge of the doorway.

"Is that Abel? Your son?" I asked, already knowing the answer. Aunt Eva had a little boy named Abel, around four or five years old.

"Abel, why are you hiding?" Aunt Eva laughed, walking over to scoop him up into her arms. "Come here and meet Vanessa."

Abel clung to her neck, burying his face shyly into her shoulder.

"Say hi to Vanessa," she encouraged gently.

Still, he kept his face hidden.

"Abel, that's not nice," Aunt Eva teased. "Nessa will be sad if you don't say hi."

At that, he hesitantly lifted his head, peeking at me through his thick lashes.

"Do you want Nessa to feel sad?" she asked him.

Abel quickly shook his head.

"Then say hi!"

He turned to me, his big grey eyes wide and uncertain.

"Hi, Nessa…" he mumbled shyly.

OH. MY. GOD.

He was adorable.

His round, rosy cheeks, his soft honey-colored hair, those huge grey eyes—damn, this boy was going to make hearts melt one day.

"Hey, Abel," I cooed, my heart practically melting. "You are SO cute."

His little cheeks flushed red, and his lips puckered into a tiny pout.

"Thank you," he said in the sweetest voice I'd ever heard.

Oh my God. Too cute. Too precious. I might cry.

I knelt down as Aunt Eva put him down, bringing myself to his level.

"Will you be my partner for today?" I asked playfully. "We'll play, and you can pick anything you want to do."

"Anything?" Abel's eyes sparkled with excitement.

"Anything you want," I promised.

His tiny fingers fidgeted for a moment before he finally spoke.

"Will you read for me?"

"Of course!" I grinned. "What do you want me to read?"

His face lit up as he whispered, "Harry Potter."

I gasped dramatically. "No way! You like Harry Potter too?"

Abel nodded eagerly.

Looks like we have another Potterhead in the family.

"Alright, partner," I said, holding out my hand for a high five. "Let's go find that book!"

Abel grabbed my hand with an excited giggle, leading me toward the bookshelf.

Maybe—just maybe—this visit wouldn't be so bad after all.

...........

HELLO there

here comes another story of 18 to 8p for y'all.

well, Abel is cute, as hell... do you think the same?

well, I hope you have a good day.