Chapter 888: Chapter 888



Fannie, the pillar of unwavering support, would be there, crying uncontrollably while hugging her.

Jett, usually so composed, would have red eyes, wiping away tears when he thought no one was watching.

And her parents, their faces etched with anxiety, would fluctuate between chastising her and enveloping her in their anxious care. Yet, that envisioned reunion failed to materialize.

Instead, the heavens opened slightly, weeping a soft, cleansing drizzle. Dulce pondered whether the rain was symbolic, perhaps meant to purify, to erase the remnants of the past and offer a fresh slate. Her gaze shifted from the overcast sky to the solitary figure standing before her, her emotions a complex weave.

“Just you?” she asked.

Michael advanced, an umbrella in hand, creating a small shelter from the gentle rain. “Isn’t just me enough?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Come on, let’s get to the car.”

As they nestled into the car, Michael leaned in to secure Dulce’s seatbelt.

“I told them you’d be out tomorrow because I wanted this time alone with you. You’re not upset with me, are you?”

“No, I’m not upset at all,” Dulce responded with a warm, comforting smile.

“Have you missed me?” Michael asked, brushing her hair back from her forehead.

He didn’t press her about the past, and she didn’t care to know the destination. Instead, they soaked in the comfort of their reunion, despite a lingering, silent gap that stretched between them.

Dulce pressed into his soothing caress, cherishing the fragile serenity of the moment, hesitant to shatter its delicate balance.

“I did miss you,” she admitted.

Pulling her closer, Michael placed a tender kiss on her forehead. “I missed you, too.”

Both Michael and Dulce were acutely aware of the deep sadness each harbored, a mirror image of the other’s heartache, yet they momentarily chose to ignore it.

Their journey was quiet for the most part.

As the rainfall intensified, Dulce propped her chin on her hand, gazing out the window with a melancholic sigh. “It’s funny how it always rains when we’re together.”

“Yeah,” Michael responded, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. His thoughts drifted to a tense exchange with Brielle in the study, the sting of her words lingering in his mind.

“Michael, you’ve got to realize—nobody gets through life without screwing up at least a few times. There are mistakes you can make right, ones you can forgive, and then the ones that destroy everything.”

“Mom, what are you talking about? Is this about me asking you to help Dulce?”

Brielle hesitated, her eyes wandering to the chandelier. She pulled a chair closer and then climbed onto it, prompting Michael to hurry over and steady her.

.

.

.