Chapter 97: The Party

Richard returned Mama Rena’s enthusiastic wave with a helpless smile before letting out a quiet sigh. Beside him, Isobel had already noticed the elderly woman’s broad grin and animated gestures beckoning them forward.

"It looks like there’s no escaping now," Richard said with an amused chuckle. "Mama Rena already saw us. She’s calling us over."

Isobel followed his gaze toward the back of the hall, where an elevated platform had been set up for the celebration. Her shoulders sagged almost imperceptibly before she forced a small smile and nodded.

"I suppose we shouldn’t keep everyone waiting."

Together, they made their way through the bustling hall, weaving between laughing children and volunteers carrying trays of food.

...

Kristoff stood near the platform with Alexander securely nestled in his arms. The baby’s wide, curious eyes darted from one child to another as they played around the hall. Every few seconds, one of the children would stop to make a funny face at him.

Alexander responded with bright, infectious giggles, waving his tiny hands in excitement.

The sound wrapped around Kristoff’s heart. His son hadn’t laughed this freely since the day he was born.

For a fleeting moment, everything else faded away.

Then a an elderly voice rang across the hall.

"Richard! Isobel! You’re finally here!" Mama Rena called cheerfully, her voice carrying effortlessly above the lively chatter. "Come, come! Everyone’s been waiting for you."

She had called two names.

Yet Kristoff heard only one.

Isobel.

The name struck him with such force that his heart skipped a beat.

No...It couldn’t be her.

Almost involuntarily, he lifted his head toward the entrance. His breath caught.

There she was. Walking beside Richard.

Time seemed to slow.

She wore a simple white blouse tucked neatly into a flowing blue skirt that swayed gently with each graceful step. The front sections of her silky black hair had been intricately braided and pinned back, while the rest spilled freely over her shoulders, cascading across her chest like dark satin.

Two months. It had only been two months. Yet somehow she seemed even more beautiful than he remembered.

There was a quiet glow about her—a softness that made it impossible to look away. Her face appeared brighter, her smile gentler, and her waist noticeably slimmer beneath the fitted dress.

For a brief, dangerous second, he forgot where he was. Forgot everyone around him. Forgot the child in his arms.

His world narrowed and everything blurred in the background until there was only her.

Then his gaze drifted to the man beside her.

Richard was tall and broad-shouldered, with fair skin, thick black brows, deep-set eyes, and a sharply sculpted nose. His features were so refined they bordered on beautiful rather than merely handsome.

An unfamiliar heat coiled inside Kristoff’s chest.

As they approached the platform, Richard leaned closer, lowering his head to whisper something into Isobel’s ear.

Whatever he said made her smile. Not the polite smile she offered strangers.

A genuine and warm one.

They looked so naturally at ease with one another that anyone watching might have mistaken them for a couple.

Kristoff’s jaw tightened.

His fingers slowly curled into fists until his knuckles turned white.

A sharp, bitter ache spread through his chest.

He told himself he had no right to care.

Yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Charlotte quietly observed the man’s unwavering gaze fixed on Isobel.

There was something in his expression— admiration, longing... perhaps love.

She didn’t know the full story, but one thing was certain. There was history between them.

Her eyes flickered toward Kristoff. The rigid set of his jaw and the tight grip he had on Alexander told her more than words ever could.

A slow smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

"Mama Rena," she asked innocently, "who is that man?"

Mama Rena followed Charlotte’s gaze before her face lit up with recognition.

"Oh, that’s Richard Learson," she replied warmly. "He just returned from abroad. He lived here in the orphanage for a few years before one of his relatives found him and brought him home."

Charlotte nodded thoughtfully before adding, just loud enough for the people beside her to hear,

"He seems very close to Isobel."

"Oh, they are," Mama Rena answered with unmistakable fondness. "Richard practically raised Isobel. He was the one who found her when she was just a baby. While they were both living here, he treated her like his own little princess. He spent every coin he earned doing odd jobs just to buy her toys, books, and pretty dresses."

Charlotte stole another glance at Kristoff.

His expression had grown noticeably darker.

"That’s... remarkable," she murmured.

The simple remark was enough.

Each word Mama Rena spoke seemed to strike Kristoff like another blow.

Mama Rena, completely oblivious to the growing tension around her, continued with a proud smile.

"And even after his relatives took him abroad, he never forgot Isobel. He secretly sent money whenever he could so she could finish college. He always made sure she had what she needed."

Charlotte’s lashes lowered to hide the satisfaction glimmering in her eyes.

She didn’t need to say another word.

The silence hanging over Kristoff spoke volumes.

...

"And you two," Mama Rena said with a teasing smile as Richard and Isobel finally reached the platform. "What took you so long? You’ve been gone for more than two hours."

Richard rubbed the back of his neck with an easy grin.

"Isobel and I haven’t seen each other in years," he replied. "We had a lot of catching up to do."

As he spoke, his eyes drifted to Isobel, his gaze warm with unmistakable affection.

But Isobel never noticed.

The moment she stepped onto the platform, her attention was stolen by the tiny boy nestled securely in Kristoff’s arms.

Alexander.

The little boy’s bright eyes lit up the instant he saw her.

With an excited squeal, he leaned forward as far as his tiny body would allow, stretching both chubby arms toward her. His little fingers opened and closed eagerly while his legs kicked with excitement.

His delighted giggles echoed through the hall, as though he were pleading in the only language he knew.

Carry me...

Carry me...

Carry me...

Isobel’s heart melted at the sight.

An unprecedented joy welled up in her heart, and an unconscious smile bloomed across her face, gentle and tender, as though the child had reached straight into her soul.