58: Bad intuition

“Khana?” says a baritone voice from the altar. The priest was unsure if he had the right person, but the girl from a short distance had an uncanny resemblance with the lady he let go. 

On the other hand, the lady's eyes flew open, her heart skipping a beat. She turned, her breath catching in her throat.

Standing there, just a few feet away, was Henry.

For a moment, the world seemed to tilt on its axis. Khana’s mind struggled to process what she was seeing. Khana’s heart pounded in her chest as she held her baby close. The soft scent of her child’s skin usually brought her peace, but now, it only heightened her anxiety. She tried to steady her breath, but the sight of Henry—Father—after all these years shook her to her core.

"Henry?" Khana let a name out.

Henry's eyes drifted to the baby in her arms, his expression shifted from surprise to something softer, almost unreadable.

The lady did not waste time but approached the priest.

"You were alive?" Khana uttered in utter shock. She even forgot they were in public, her hand reaching out to the priest's hand. Without thinking, she reached out, her hand brushing against his. His skin was warm, solid. Real. This wasn’t a ghost from her past. It was Henry, flesh and blood.

Khana blinked rapidly, willing herself to focus. This wasn’t a dream, it wasn't some twisted vision from her nightmares. He was here, alive. She had thought him dead, mourned him even. And now he stood before her, as real as the ground beneath her feet.

"Henry?" She barely recognized her own voice. It was small, filled with disbelief. Her eyes searched his face, looking for any sign that this was all some cruel trick.

Henry was surprised as well and nervous that people might misunderstand their relationship. Henry seemed just as shocked as she was. His eyes darted around, nervous. He could feel the eyes of others on them, the silent judgments. He was a priest now, and priests weren’t supposed to have this kind of history with a woman, especially not one with a child in her arms.

"It's been a long time, Khana. Let's talk somewhere else," says Henry. 

Khana nodded and walked after the clergyman. 

"I'm confused. What brings you here? Don't tell me you are still looking for me?" Henry asked, fearing that Khana's presence and tenacity to make him give up his faith might make him walk in shells.

"I'm not like that woman from before, father Henry. I already accepted the fate given to us. My feet brought me here when I ranaway, I didn't even know you were there since you are presumably dead."

"Pardon me, but what made you think I'm dead? And you run away?!" Henry asked. He was relieved that Khana had no interest in him, but why did it feel disappointing?

"That was a long story. And Uhmm... about your death. Shameful as it sounds, but Richard hired someone to tail you to ensure you wouldn't be around on my wedding day. That person assumed you were dead since your car exploded."

Henry nodded slowly, his mind piecing together the fragments of the past. "That car explosion… I remember now. I was in it. Barely survived. My lower body was paralyzed for over a year. It was a miracle that I could walk again." He paused, the weight of his words settling between them. "I guess I really did come back from the dead."

Surprisingly, there was no awkwardness between them. 

Or she only thought? 

There was utter silence after Henry's story about his tragedy. For a moment, they stood in silence, the enormity of what they had both been through hanging in the air like a heavy fog. Khana didn’t know what to say. There were no words that could bridge the gap between them, no way to fully comprehend the twists of fate that had brought them to this moment.

Finally, Khana broke the silence. "It’s good to hear that God hasn’t abandoned you," she said, her voice awkward, unsure. She wasn’t even sure if she believed her own words. So much had happened, so much had changed.

Then she can't help but ask herself, 'What about me? Am I the forsaken one? Just because I was the wicked woman who kept clinging to a past romance?"

"I hope you don't mind. You mentioned you ran away from home, I assumed, you had a small fight with Richard. Is he not treating you well?"

"If you are asking like that, I might assume you still hold me dear in your heart. I already outgrown my feelings for you, so don't make me change my mind, father."

Henry was confused by Khana's sudden change of behavior. Did he say something offensive?

Khana sighed, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on her. "I’ve taken up too much of your time, Father," she said, her voice tinged with finality. 

"I should go," says Khana, then she stood up and left the monastery without even glancing back.

On the other hand, Henry noticed that the sky was dark as black. His instincts told him that he needed to make sure she was safe. Since he was concerned about the safety of the lady and the baby, the priest silently followed the girl home, and he felt something terrible...

He wasn't wrong about such intuition at all... 

Henry watched her go, his chest tightening with a mix of emotions he hadn’t felt in years. The sky above had darkened, and a sense of foreboding crept into his thoughts. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, that Khana and her child were in danger.

When he reached the street where Khana had entered a building, his heart sank. There were local officials gathered outside, along with concerned bystanders. Something had happened.

Henry’s pulse quickened as he pushed through the crowd, his mind racing. He couldn’t lose her again—not like this.