After receiving his mother's call, Abel was more than excited, but something quickly dimmed that excitement.
Two thoughts immediately weighed on his mind. The first was how to communicate with Lisa because communication was something he had always struggled with. Second, he was never good with emotions or gentle conversations, and this task ahead was going to be a tough one. To make things worse, his mother hadn't mentioned whether Lisa was even willing to have him around. He had no idea how she would react to his presence, or how long it might take for her to forgive him. What made it harder was that he didn't even know what to do to move her heart toward forgiveness. After all, he had really messed up.
He couldn't stop imagining how strange and awkward their first proper conversation would be. The thought alone made him restless. He decided to go online, searching for advice on how to apologize, rebuild trust, or start over. But none of it seemed to suit him. The words felt foreign, too polished, too emotional. That wasn't who he was. He thought of asking Nina, but he knew deep down that she wasn't going to help him since she was so mad at him and also supporting Lisa.
He spent the whole day and night scrolling through countless pages, reading articles, and watching videos, but nothing felt right. None of the advice seemed made for someone like him, someone who didn't know how to say the right thing or even feel things the right way. By midnight, his frustration had reached its limit. In the end, he came to one simple conclusion: nothing and nobody can shame the shameless.
That became his strategy. He was going to face whatever came his way, in whatever way he found suitable. No rehearsed words. No pretending. Just him, flawed, unfiltered, and ready for whatever happened next. But one thing was certain: he would make sure he got the answers he was looking for.
When dawn arrived, Abel stood before his window, watching the sunlight spill through the glass. The view of the green leafy trees made the day feel fresh and full of promise, a feeling he hadn't experienced in a very long time. It felt almost strange, but refreshing. He inhaled deeply, letting the fresh air fill his lungs before exhaling slowly. His mind was calm but focused on the task ahead.
He went ahead and took a long shower, something unusual for him; he was getting that feeling that first impressions mattered. Though it wasn't the first time he would meet Lisa, it was the first time he would have to initiate a relationship and try to mend what was broken. He asked one of his helpers to help him pack, which surprised everyone because normally, he preferred doing it himself. Abel was known for his simplicity, always in black suits, black shirts, and black shoes, whether at home or outside. But this time, he had ordered a variety of new clothes in different colors and styles, a mix of casual and formal wear. Within an hour, his suitcase was neatly packed with fresh clothes and shoes.
Before leaving, he decided to make himself a rich breakfast: eggs, toasted bread with butter, crispy bacon, a bowl of fruit, and freshly squeezed orange juice. He knew his mother would never let him do such chores at her house, so this was his moment of peace. After eating, he even did the dishes, something that shocked his helpers since he usually hated it. He was whistling softly until he was done. He then went to his room, collected his car keys and wallet, and locked both his private office and bedroom. Before leaving, he instructed his men to keep investigating Lisa's past and to take care of the house until his return.
Abel wasn't taking a driver with him this time. He walked into his vast garage, where the faint scent of metal and polish hung in the air. His gaze landed on a car he hadn't touched since the day it arrived, a stunning white Mercedes-Benz S-Class Maybach, its flawless paint glistening under the soft overhead lights. It was a masterpiece of luxury, elegant and powerful, the kind of beauty that turned heads even from afar.
His mother had gifted it to him on his birthday, a gesture of love and pride. Yet Abel had never driven it. He disliked the color; it was too bright, too loud, too revealing. It screamed wealth in every curve and reflection, and that was exactly the kind of attention he didn't want. Privacy was sacred to him, and this car, magnificent as it was, threatened that peace. He had wanted to tint the windows completely black, but his mother had objected.
"Abel, you have to learn to live a normal life," she had said gently but firmly. "You can't always hide behind walls. Learn to interact with others, just like everyone else."
The logic never made sense to him. Still, for the sake of peace, he had agreed, settling for a mere twenty percent tint. Then he parked the car and never touched it again. But today felt different. The occasion demanded composure, not secrecy. The white Maybach, elegant and composed, felt fitting for his quiet return.
As the engine purred to life, Abel leaned back in his seat, taking a deep breath. The soft hum of the machine filled the silence as his mind drifted not with fear, but with calm contemplation of what awaited him. Whatever the future held, he was prepared. He always was. Thick-skinned, disciplined, and strategic, that was his armor.
He drove steadily, unhurried. Two hours later, he arrived at his parents' estate. Parking in the familiar spot where his car always stood, Abel stepped out, retrieved his suitcase from the boot, and walked toward the house with quiet confidence.
The door was open. Inside, the atmosphere was calm until the sharp sound of shattering glass broke it. Lisa had seen him first. She had been helping his mother and Nina set the breakfast table. The moment her eyes met his, the glass slipped from her trembling hands and shattered into tiny pieces.
Everyone turned at the noise. Their eyes followed Lisa's gaze, and there he was, Abel, standing at the entrance with his suitcase, walking toward them.
Lisa quickly turned and disappeared down the hallway to her room without a word. One of the helpers rushed to clean up the broken glass. Abel's mother said nothing. She continued setting the table, her movements calm but deliberate. Nina followed her lead, pretending not to notice the tension. Abel's father, barely reacting, lowered his newspaper, gave a glance at his son, and then returned to reading.
Abel, equally composed, ignored the scene entirely and walked past them, dragging his suitcase toward his room. Lisa's reaction didn't surprise him; he had expected it, perhaps even worse.
In his room, he placed the suitcase neatly on the bed and looked at himself in the mirror. Not out of vanity, but to gather composure. He exhaled deeply, straightened his shirt, and headed to the dining room.
Everyone was already seated, helping themselves to breakfast, except Lisa, who remained in her room. Abel took a seat opposite his mother, slightly closer to Nina and a bit farther from his father. Without saying a word, he began to serve himself.
His father lowered the newspaper again, studied him briefly, shook his head, and sighed before silently serving his own food.
"Oh dear," said his mother at last, her tone soft but disappointed, her hand resting against her cheek as she looked at her son.
Abel glanced at her, unbothered, pouring himself a glass of orange juice. "Hi, Mum. Why do you seem not happy to see me?"
"Child of mine," she sighed, forcing a small smile, "let's just eat, or we'll ruin our appetite. But listen carefully, you've seen for yourself that you have a long way to go. For now, give Luiza her space. Don't initiate anything, give no smiles, no apologies, nothing that could trigger her. But…" she paused thoughtfully, "create a warm and approachable environment. If she ever decides to reach out, she must feel safe doing so."
Abel continued eating, his face calm, his attention seemingly elsewhere. But deep down, he was quietly relieved. This was exactly the advice he needed; it saved him from wasting more time searching for meaningless solutions online.
"Tsk." His mother clicked her tongue softly, glancing at Nina. "Please take Luiza some food. As for this child of mine," she added, looking at Abel with mock frustration, "he needs a heart transplant. The one he has, either it's stopped working or turned to stone."
Nina stifled a smile and did as she was told. She carefully packed a tray with food she knew Lisa would like, just the way she preferred it.
When Nina reached Lisa's door, there was hesitation from inside. But once Lisa heard Nina's voice, she opened the door slowly. She sat on the edge of her bed, quiet and uneasy.
"Here's your food, dear," Nina said kindly, placing the tray on the table near her.
"Thank you," Lisa murmured, forcing a small smile.
"Are you okay? Do you need anything?" Nina asked gently, concern flickering in her tone.
"For now, I'm fine," Lisa said, standing up to wash her hands in the bathroom. "I just got a little shocked, but I'm okay."
"Alright then. If you need anything, call me," Nina replied, then quietly left the room.
When she returned to the dining area, Abel's mother looked up. "How is she?"
"Just a little shaken, but she's fine," Nina answered.
"I hope she'll be alright," his mother sighed softly.
That was the last word spoken at the table. The rest of the meal passed in silence, the kind of silence that carried more meaning than words ever could.