The aching reunion

The city of Vernilla at night sparkles with a myriad of blended colours. The sky is inked in deep blue, scattered with scarce, scintillating stars and a faint silver moon hiding behind a luminous veil of clouds.

Tall skyscrapers, historic cathedrals, sprawling malls, hotels, restaurants, and clothing stores adorned with mannequins—all merge into the dazzling cityscape Neva watches through the window of the grey Aston Martin.

Cars pass. People move. Life carries on.

On any other day, she might have longed to explore. But now, her mind is tangled, her thoughts bruised and frayed. Tears sting the corners of her eyes, and she lets them fall freely, making no effort to wipe them away.

Everything feels so different—unfamiliar, dark, and threatening. She wants to go home. She aches for the warmth of her husband and children. She doesn't even know if Ishmael is safe.

The pain overwhelms her, numbing her heart with invisible cuts. A whispery sob escapes her chest.

Beside her, Rhett glances at her, worried. "Angel," he murmurs, reaching out to caress her shoulder.

Neva jerks away from his touch. "Don't touch me!" she snaps, glaring at him.

A pang tightens in Rhett's chest. Hatred burns in her reddened eyes, but deeper still, he sees fear, confusion, and grief.

She must be terrified—sge doesn't even know her entire life has been a lie, shrouded in darkness.

She turns away again, gazing out at the bustling city.

But he can't look away from her tear-glittered, rueful almond eyes, framed by wet, curled lashes, her cheeks and nose flushed pink.

He wants to hold her, comfort her.

But he no longer has that right—the blessing to even touch her. Not anymore.

Rhett swallows hard and turns his eyes to the boulevard head. Ace is driving, while Neva sits beside him in the rear passenger seat.

There's a space left between them—a silent, aching gap. After years of feeling like the walking dead, he finally has her close again… yet he can't even hold her hand.

How deeply had Raka twisted her world? How much poison did he feed her to keep her captive in his illusions? She was forced to dream his dreams.

And now, she depends on him—needs him.

Rhett clenches his flattened palms in his lap, jaw tight, eyes cold.

---

Ten minutes of silence pass. The scenery shifts from the bright heart of the city to a quieter, greener road flanked by trees. Rhett glances at his silver wristwatch.

It's ten past thirty. The time difference between Finland and Erriador is two and a half hours. The journey has been long and draining.

The car takes a smooth right turn at a crossroad, slowing as the low-beam headlights reveal concrete walls enclosing a white modern courtyard house, surrounded by thick foliage.

Ace stops the car in front of the iron gate. With the engine still running, he steps out to open it.

Rhett looks over at Neva. She's still frozen, her body rigid as she stubbornly stares out the window, pretending to admire the world beyond.

He sighs. He doesn't know what awaits inside anymore.

Ace returns, eases the car into the driveway, and cuts the engine. He turns around. "Boss, aren't you getting out?" he asks, one brow raised.

Rhett ignores him and looks at Neva. Still unmoving.

He reaches for her but stops midway. His hand closes into a fist.

Ace watches silently, then sighs and steps out again, closing the door behind him.

"We've arrived, Neva. Let's go."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"There are people inside—people desperate to see you." His voice softens.

At last, Neva looks at him, her expression blank. Before she can respond, a loud bark pierces the silence.

They both look toward the noise. A golden retriever barks wildly at a startled Ace in front of the open main entrance.

"Goddamn!" Ace curses, glaring at the dog who's fluffy tail is raised in alarm.

Neva flinches as Rhett suddenly opens the door beside her. She looks up at him with surprise. When had he stepped out?

He offers her his hand. She frowns, unmoving.

Rhett sighs. How is he supposed to coax his stubborn wife out of this car?

Then—an unexpected voice calls, "Zoro! Don't!"

Rhean races out from the entrance, alarmed by Zoro's aggression. His eyes lock on Rhett standing beside the car.

"Dada!" he cries, eyes lighting up as he runs toward him.

But Ace catches him gently by the wrist. "Before you dash off to Dad, help me with the dog, buddy." He lets go and gestures at the still-growling Zoro, fur bristling. "I've been humiliated enough." He mumbles to himself.

Rhean hesitates, torn. He loves Zoro—but he wants his father more.

Rhett looks down at Neva, aware she's watching everything.

"He's our boy," he says quietly.

Neva glances at him, her eyes full of uncertainty and hurt. Rhett only smiles and offers his hand again. "At least don't hold a grudge against him."

She doesn't answer but slides across the seat and exits the car from the other side.

The breeze is sharp, and Neva shivers, rubbing her arms.

Without a word, Rhett shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over her shoulders. She moves to push it off—but flinches as Zoro growls, rushing toward her with bared teeth.

Unconsciously, she clutches Rhett's shirt and slides behind him.

Rhett looks down, stunned. Her fist clenches his shirt. Her warmth presses to his back.

He wants to stay like this forever.

Zoro circles them, tail wagging, sniffing. Neva trembles behind Rhett, and the contact stirs something raw and hopeful inside him.

She whimpers as the dog gets closer, her fists bunching tighter. Then Zoro barks sharply. Neva jumps—and Rhett wraps his arms around her protectively.

His muscles relax.

He is coming back to life.

"Zoro," he warns.

The retriever whines and lowers its tail.

"Go."

Zoro darts inside.

"He's gone," Rhett says gently.

Neva lifts her head and immediately steps back, putting space between them.

He feels unfulfilled again, aching at the loss of her touch.

She's looking at someone.

Rhett follows her gaze—Rhean.

He stands there alone, watching everything unfold.

His lips tremble. His teary eyes meet Neva's, burdened with emotion.

As she takes a step toward him, Rhean suddenly turns and runs inside.

Her eyes dim. A strange, hollow numbness ache her chest.

"He's probably just overwhelmed," Rhett says. "He just needs a moment."

"I want to go back," Neva replies, her sombre eyes fixed on him. "I don't need your jacket."

She pulls it off and tosses it toward him. He catches it effortlessly.

"Angel—"

"Don't call me that!" she snaps.

Rhett's throat tightens. Her eyes—so full of pain and revulsion—cut deeper than all the months he spent in the underworld hunting for her.

Then, footsteps approach.

"Oh, my dear Neva—" a voice chokes with a sob.

Neva turns to see a woman walking slowly toward her, weeping. Behind her stands a middle-aged man, likely the same age.

Neva stares in confusion as the woman nears with trembling arms.

"My dear little girl," she whispers, pulling Neva into a delicate, trembling embrace—holding her as if she might shatter from the slightest pressure.