"Sometimes, the past doesn't knock when it returns — it simply walks in, wearing a familiar smile."
*****
(Brayden's POV)
There are surprises that feel like sunlight — warm, harmless, gone too soon.
And then there are the other kind — the kind that crawl under your skin, reminding you of everything you thought you'd forgotten.
I thought I was past that kind.
But that morning, the past decided to prove me wrong.
I thought I was old enough to face any kind of surprise.
But apparently, this morning proved me wrong.
I started the day with something rare—peace.
For the first time in years, I woke up not for meetings, not to chase deadlines, but for something simpler:
to visit the foundation, spend time with the kids, and maybe… fix a little piece of myself that's still broken.
I even woke up earlier than usual, preparing everything on my own.
And yet, no matter how busy I made myself, there was one name I couldn't silence.
Brianna.
I took a long breath.
No matter how much I tried to forget, every step toward that foundation felt like walking closer to an unfinished past.
That place wasn't just about the children — it was about her.
The woman I once made cry, and who, somehow, could still make my heart race whenever someone said her name.
Standing at the entrance, I paused for a few seconds just to calm my nerves.
Not because I was nervous — but because I was scared.
Scared that even now, all my good intentions would still look fake in her eyes.
I didn't want to be the man who kept showing up to explain.
This time, I wanted to prove something — that I truly had changed.
Anya, the receptionist, immediately stood when she saw me enter.
"Good morning, Mr. Brayden," she greeted politely with a warm smile.
I nodded lightly. "Morning, Anya. Are the kids inside?"
"Yes, sir. And Mrs. Brianna is in her office if you'd like to see her."
That name again.
And as always, my heart reacted faster than my logic.
I cleared my throat quietly, covering the unnecessary tension.
"Alright. Thank you, Anya. I'll head in."
"Of course, Mr. Brayden."
I walked through the long corridor — now strangely familiar.
The walls were covered in children's drawings; messy crayon colors that somehow made this place feel more alive than any corporate boardroom I'd ever been in.
Here, there was no hierarchy.
No deals. No numbers. No masks.
Just laughter — honest and pure — reminding me of something I'd long forgotten: what it means to be human.
My steps halted when I reached the backyard garden.
Some kids were playing with a small ball, some chasing butterflies, others sitting on the grass drawing.
I just stood there watching — and without realizing it, a small smile formed.
Then, within seconds, it disappeared.
A little girl tripped and fell onto the grass.
Before anyone could react, I ran toward her instinctively.
She had a tiny bald spot on her head — probably from treatment — and soft tears glistened on her cheeks as she held her scraped knee.
Without thinking, I lifted her up and carried her to the nearest bench.
Her tears soaked my collar, and for a moment, I froze — helpless, but unwilling to step back.
I had never been good with crying children.
But last night, when I couldn't sleep thinking about Ella, I'd read something in a parenting book.
It said:
"Children don't need perfect explanations. They just need someone who doesn't walk away when they cry."
So I did the simplest thing —
I stayed.
I wiped her head gently, looked into her eyes, and said softly,
"It's okay. You'll be fine soon. Hey, what's your name, pretty girl?"
She sniffled, trying to stop crying. "So…fia."
Sofia.
A soft name for a soft little soul.
I smiled. "Sofia, huh? That's a beautiful name."
She was still sniffling.
I thought for a second — then, like an idiot, I made a silly clown face I remembered seeing at a park last week.
I exaggerated a wink.
And somehow… it worked.
She laughed.
Then the other kids laughed.
And in that moment, something inside me shifted.
I felt happy.
Happy, just because I made a child laugh.
Happy, because for the first time in years — I didn't feel like a failure.
Maybe this is what being a father feels like.
Not a title, but the courage to stay with a frightened little heart… even when it isn't your own child.
*****
Sofia finally stopped crying. Her nose was still red, but her eyes were bright again.
She suddenly reached out her tiny hand toward me.
"Uncle, you're really funny," she said with a giggle.
I froze for a moment.
It had been so long since anyone called me that — with warmth, without status or formality.
Just Uncle.
Simple… and it broke through every wall I had built.
It reminded me of Ella — who still called me Uncle Ray, not knowing I was her father.
I chuckled. "If you laugh again, I'll get even funnier, you know?"
She burst into louder laughter, making the other kids join in.
And in the middle of that laughter, I felt… new.
Like someone who'd just been given a second chance by the universe.
But the warmth didn't last long.
A sound I knew too well approached from behind — soft footsteps that didn't need an introduction.
Brianna.
She appeared with a smile that made my chest ache.
Not because it was for me — it wasn't.
It belonged to the kids. But still… seeing her this close again felt like facing a past I hadn't fully paid for.
"Hello, everyone," she greeted kindly.
Brianna's smile didn't reach her eyes.
She looked at me for a heartbeat — long enough to remember, short enough to pretend it meant nothing.
I stayed silent, trying to hide the sudden rush of nerves.
I offered her a polite smile, but her gaze lingered only for a second before shifting back to the children.
"Mommy!" several kids shouted, running to her.
She smiled, ruffling their hair, then turned to Sofia.
"Sofia, sweetheart," she said gently, "Dr. Olivia's here. She said she wants to play with you today."
Sofia's face instantly fell.
Her fingers twisted the hem of her shirt nervously.
I crouched beside her. "What's wrong, Sofia? Why the sad face?"
Her lips trembled, and tears started to fill her eyes again.
I immediately pulled her into a light hug.
"My pretty Sofia," I said softly. "Doctor Olivia just wants to make you laugh, not hurt you. Isn't that a good thing?"
Sofia shook her head.
"No! She's going to give me a shot!"
I chuckled quietly, brushing her hair.
"Well, if she tries, just tell me, okay? I'll scold her for you."
Sofia looked up uncertainly, but her tears stopped.
"You'll come with me?
"Of course," I said without hesitation. "I'm not going to let you face her alone."
She nodded and smiled faintly.
"Okay then, if you're coming, she won't dare do anything."
I helped her down from the bench.
From the corner of my eye, I caught Brianna watching — surprised, maybe.
How easily I could calm Sofia.
Once upon a time, I couldn't even calm her.
Before I could say anything, a familiar voice filled the air.
"Mommy! Uncle Ray!"
I turned automatically.
Ella ran toward us, her twin braids swinging, cheeks flushed red from running.
And behind her — came the man who made my blood stir in ways I couldn't explain.
Arthur.
He walked casually, carrying Ella's bag.
That polite smile on his face was enough to make my jaw tighten.
"Uncle Ray! I got home early!" Ella grinned. "Teachers had a meeting, so we were dismissed!"
I forced a small smile. "Oh yeah? That's rare. You usually finish later."
"Yeah, but I'm happy today because I get to come here!"
Before I could reply, Arthur spoke up — too casually.
"Hey, Brayden. We meet again."
I turned slowly. "Arthur."
Flat. Cold.
He chuckled. "I ran into Ella in the parking lot, so I helped her carry her bag. Pretty heavy for a kid, huh?"
Ella giggled. "He's really nice, Uncle Arthur."
I glanced at his hand still holding her bag.
My smile stayed — but it wasn't warm anymore.
"So… you didn't go home together, right?" I asked Ella evenly.
She shook her head quickly. "No. I came with the school bus."
A small wave of relief passed through me — though that strange jealousy lingered.
Not just because of Arthur, but because Brianna stood there quietly, saying nothing.
Then Sofia tugged on my sleeve. "Uncle, let's go see Dr. Olivia, okay?"
I blinked, refocusing. "Oh, right. Let's go."
But before I could move, Arthur spoke again.
"Bri, can we talk for a moment? It's important."
Brianna looked between us, then nodded.
"Ella, sweetheart, please go with Uncle Ray and Sofia to the doctor's room, okay? Mommy will join you later."
I stared at her, incredulous.
She was really going to leave me — with Ella and another kid — while she went off to talk alone with Arthur.
My fists clenched, something heavy twisting inside me.
But then Ella's small hand tugged mine.
"Come on, Uncle. Sofia will be scared if we don't go."
I looked at her face — and just like that, the anger faded.
I didn't come here to argue.
I came here to learn to be better.
"Alright," I finally said, holding both girls' hands as we walked down the quiet corridor.
Our footsteps echoed against the white walls.
Each step felt strange — like I was walking not toward the doctor's room, but toward another piece of my past.
When we reached the door marked Examination Room, Ella knocked gently and pushed it open.
Inside, a woman in a white coat stood by the table, preparing some tools.
I barely paid attention — until she turned and looked at me.
Time stopped.
"Brayden?" she said softly, her tone filled with surprise.
I froze.
My eyes traced her face — the soft features, the calm eyes, the faint smile that stirred a memory.
"Via?" I breathed, almost disbelieving.
She smiled faintly. "It is you."
I exhaled deeply.
The world was small — painfully small.
And somehow, I knew — this meeting was about to make everything… far more complicated.
The air around me thickened.
Because if fate had brought Brianna back to break me once,
meeting Via again could only mean one thing —
the past wasn't done with me yet.