TWO - Part 2

Exelle

"This is it," Jules proclaimed, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and determination. She summarized our detailed discussion about the renovation plans for the house, emphasizing our decision to transform it into an enchanting old Victorian style. It was as if she had captured my innermost desires and breathed life into them. This house, nestled in the serene countryside, would soon become a reflection of my personal taste and a testament to my love for the classic elegance of the past.

But are you sure you want to go back to that house?" Milo suddenly asked.

As Jules spoke, Milo's question interrupted the air, injecting a touch of uncertainty into the room. His curiosity was palpable, and I sensed a hidden concern beneath his words. Jules subtly nudged him, a silent indication to tread carefully.

Caught off guard, I struggled to find the right words. Memories of the past surged within me, threatening to break the surface, but I was determined to keep them at bay. The house held a profound significance in my heart, an emblem of the love and memories shared with my late grandfather. It was a gift, passed down through generations, and every inch of its walls bore witness to the joys and sorrows of my life before.

"Of course," I replied, mustering a smile that only partially masked my apprehension. "My grandfather bestowed this house upon me, and you both know how much I treasure his gifts. Each one holds a special place in my heart."

Milo's gaze bore into me, piercing through my defenses. He understood the unspoken truth that lay beneath my façade. It wasn't just about the house; it was about the memories that lingered within its walls. The past had shaped me, molded me into who I had become, but it shouldn't define my present or dictate my future. I needed to break free from its grip and forge my own path.

A sigh escaped me, an unvoiced admission of my internal struggle. Despite my attempts to move forward, the specter of my ex-husband loomed in the depths of my mind. It was a chapter of my life that I had closed, yet the scars still lingered, threatening to reopen with every thought of that old house.

"Milo," Jules whispered, her voice soft and concerned, as if trying to prevent his next remark from adding fuel to the fire.

"Xielle, we all know the pain you endured with your ex-husband. But clinging to something that only brings you anguish is not the answer. What would you do if you ever crossed paths with him again?" Milo's voice held a gentle but persistent undertone, urging me to confront my fears.

Before he could utter my ex-husband's name, I interjected, my voice barely above a whisper. "We've already met," I confessed, a mixture of relief and trepidation coursing through me.

Jules and Milo froze, their eyes widening with anticipation. The room fell into a heavy silence, filled with unspoken questions. They yearned to know the outcome of this unexpected encounter.

"Y-You did?" Jules stammered, her disbelief palpable. I offered a nod, unable to articulate the complexity of emotions that flooded my heart. Confusion and curiosity danced in their eyes, urging me to continue.

"What happened? Did he say anything?" Jules pressed, her tone shifting from astonishment to a more serious concern.

I locked eyes with her, drawing strength from the support that emanated from her unwavering gaze. Reluctantly, I delved into the memories, grappling with the remnants of that fateful meeting. His hazel eyes, once so familiar, now lingered in the recesses of my mind, leaving an indelible mark.

"I told him that I didn't know him when he called me by my name," I admitted, my voice tinged with a mix of vulnerability and defiance. "My... my old name," I added, averting my gaze momentarily, as if trying to shield myself from the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm me.

I let out a heavy sigh, the weight of the past settling upon my shoulders. Jules rose from her seat with a determined stride, making her way towards me. As she reached me, she wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace, offering solace in her understanding. She knew me better than anyone else, comprehending the profound significance of this moment. Despite having moved forward in life, the past still clung to me, refusing to release its grip.

Seeing him again after seven long years of solitude and self-discovery was a jolt to my system. It seemed to explain the indescribable unease that had accompanied me at the airport earlier. Caught off guard, I felt a pang of pain resonate within my chest, a reminder of the wounds that had yet to fully heal.

"I am really proud of you, Xielle. Despite everything Hans has done to you, you found it within yourself to forgive him," Jules spoke, her use of his name momentarily stunning me.

Forgive him?

Perhaps I had granted him forgiveness long ago, but that didn't mean everything would remain unchanged. Forgiveness and transformation walked hand in hand. He had become my ex-husband, and part of moving on meant letting go of the remnants of his presence.

"I didn't shed a tear. Don't worry, Jules. I will never shed a single tear for him because he is not worth it. We parted ways a long time ago, so there is nothing left for me to worry about," I asserted with unwavering confidence, eliciting smiles from both Jules and Milo. Deep down, I knew that my show of strength contained an element of falsehood. The mere mention of his name or the sight of his presence still had an undeniable effect on me.

Taking another deep breath, a sense of relief washed over me, momentarily easing the weight of the past.

"Hey, perhaps it's time for me to go," I reminded them, prompting nods of agreement from both Jules and Milo.

Jules returned to the comforting embrace of Milo's arms, their connection serving as a reminder of the power of love. Love had the ability to ease our burdens, yet the paths of least resistance often led to fleeting moments. It was the challenges born out of love that forged enduring and resilient connections.

***

As the SUV came to a halt, I gazed out of the window, fixating on our old house. The familiar cream-colored walls stood resolute, their timeless beauty unaffected by the passage of time. The roofs, adorned with faded red paint, retained their character. While the peeling paint revealed the years gone by, the surroundings appeared immaculate. It seemed the housekeepers had diligently cleaned the entire place upon hearing of my impending return.

"Ma'am Exelle, I will have your belongings brought in by the household staff," Manong informed me suddenly, prompting a simple nod in response.

My eyes remained fixed on the house, an internal struggle preventing me from stepping out of the van. This was the place I had chosen to reclaim, a space I intended to transform entirely. Gathering my resolve, I leaped out of the van and walked purposefully towards the front door. Memories flooded my mind, each step unraveling a tapestry of moments etched within the walls.

As I crossed the threshold, the floodgates of remembrance burst open. Every nook and cranny whispered stories from the past, reminding me of the journey I had undertaken within those very walls. The house welcomed me back, embracing me with the familiar scent of nostalgia.