Coming Home

Shiloh's POV

Years passed by without noticing it.

I'm no longer a thirteen-year-old girl who was always afraid of my father. I grew up. I finished my studies. I also have my own established life in Paris. 

All my life in Paris, I never saw my father's face.

He never tried to visit me.

It's hurt, but I kept it all to myself.

He called, yes, but never asked how I was doing. He only called to tell me that he sent me an allowance. He never failed to pay all my school fees. He cared for my studies but never cared for me.

"Theresa, are you going home with me, or are you staying here?" I ask my nanny.

Theresa is my ever-loyal nanny, who remained single because her boyfriend dumped her when she agreed to go with me to Paris.

I could see the fear in Theresa's eyes when I mentioned to her that we were going home.

"You know very well that your father will be very angry when he knows your plan of going home," Theresa reminds me.

"I know that, Theresa, but that was before. I'm not a small little girl anymore. I'm not afraid of him," I replied. Determined.

"I have no one to see in Australia anymore, Shiloh. I have no family," Theresa said.

"But you have me, Theresa. I'm your family. I have no family too. The family that I have is only by name, not in the sense of being a family. My father doesn't want me. Because if he did, he would let me come home or even give me time to visit. But for fifteen years, Theresa, I never saw even his shadow." I said, full of hurt.

"Okay, I'll go home with you. But how about your office here?" Theresa asks.

"Claire will manage that," I replied.

I'm talking about my assistant. I had talked to her already about taking a vacation.

"Okay then. When are we going?" Theresa asks.

"The day after tomorrow. I will finish the last project, and we will leave," I replied.

"Okay." Theresa agrees.

I'm an interior designer. I have many well-known clients, and it's doing good. I'm not sure if my dad knows that I have it. But who cares? Her father doesn't care at all.

We are now boarding the plane with Theresa. I have this unexplainable feeling about my decision to come back home. I couldn't pinpoint it, but I could feel it. There's something that is going to happen. Hope it's not bad, I thought.

"Shiloh, you're agitated. Are you alright?" Theresa asked me worriedly.

"I'm fine, Theresa. Maybe it's because it's been fifteen years already. I don't know if I still can remember our place. I'm sure there are many changes in fifteen years," I said, brushing off what I felt.

"For sure it has, but maybe your dad's mansion is still in the same estate where it was when we left," Theresa replied.

"I don't have any idea about that. Daddy never mentioned anything about life. We never had our conversation," I said bitterly.

"I understand. In case he moves to other places, where are we going?" Theresa asks worriedly.

"Don't worry, Theresa, we have a place to stay. I'll make sure of that," she replied.

When you have money, finding a place to stay is not a problem.

"Okay. We can go back again to Paris if in case, right?" Theresa asks.

"Yes, Theresa, we can," I replied.

Fifteen years ago I was in an invisible cage under my father's power.

"If you want, when we land, I'll check out the mansion first. You can stay at the airport. I don't want you to get hurt. Your father may not harm you physically, but ignoring you is more painful than hitting you." Theresa pauses for a while. 

"Hundred percent sure that your father will be very angry when you show up." She continues. 

"I don't know, but I have this feeling that what happened to your mom many years ago, there's something wrong with it." She pauses, looking at me. 

"I'm just saying, at least if your father sees me, he will get angry, that's for sure, but he will not do anything about me." Theresa stops, maybe because I'm not talking.

I could sense that Theresa was not happy with this abrupt decision I had made. She's like a mother to me since my mom died. She knows me inside out.

"Thank you, Theresa. I think you're right. If anyone sees you at the mansion, you can tell them that you're there because I asked you to get something in my room," I said.

I remembered all my things in my room. I asked Dad many times if he could bring her the red box that contained the photographs of me and Mom and also the gifts from my mother. He told me that he would be going to send them, but he never did. Right, this will be a good reason. 

"You know that red velvet box in my wardrobe? I want you to get it for me. Dad knows how badly I want those." With a twinkling hope in my eyes.

"Yes. I know that box. It's the photographs of the two of you and her gifts. Her last gift for your birthday hasn't been opened yet because we're forced to leave the house," Theresa supplied.

"That's right. Mom had told me before I left for school that day that she put her gift for my thirteenth birthday in my box, but I didn't have a chance to check it because of that terrible thing that happened." She paused. "In case you've got a chance to get in the mansion if it is still there, never mention to anyone that I came with you. Just take the box. I've changed my mind, Theresa; I don't want Dad to know I came. I don't want to see him right now, not this time." I said, holding Theresa's hand. 

"Okay. So when we land, just stay at the airport," Theresa told her, looking into my eyes. 

"Okay. I'll wait for you at the airport. But in case you can't see me, don't stay at the airport; I'm afraid that Daddy will send an eye to check you out. Buy a ticket back to Paris." I pull out my wallet and give Theresa some cash.

I had it changed into Australian dollars while we were still in Paris.

"Thank you! I'll get your box, and if I can't see you at the airport, I'll buy a ticket back to Paris." She repeats what I had just said.

"That's right. So we're settled," I said in confirmation.

"Are you going back to Paris?" Theresa asks.

"Yes, but you don't need to go back with me," I replied.

"Just make sure you'll be back," Theresa said.

"I will," I replied.

"Take care, Shiloh," Theresa said after a while. 

"You too, Theresa. Leave your luggage at the airport; that will be easier for you to move," I suggest to Theresa.

"I've been thinking about that. Because if I have my luggage in tow, they won't believe I came for the box only," Theresa replied.

"You're right." I agreed.

When the plane touched down on the runway. We are both in silence. We both lost in our thoughts. 

When we finally came out from the airplane, we went to the immigration counter. I couldn't decide whether I needed to exit or stay inside and wait for Theresa. But if I won't exit, how can I enter again later?

"Are you not going to move Shiloh?" Theresa wakes up my sleeping mind.

"Yes, sorry. I was thinking I could wait for you here, but I still need to exit," I said.

"I'll go now so I can come back immediately," Theresa said, walking towards the queue at the immigration counter. I followed through.

Theresa walks directly to the conveyor for baggage claim and waits for her luggage after the immigration. I just stand beside her. When Theresa finally gets her luggage, she walks over to customer service to ask where she could store her luggage while doing an important errand. They give her directions to the luggage storage. She goes there, and after a while, she's good to go.

"I'm off to go now." She looks at me.

"Be careful, Theresa; I'll pray that you will get there in safety and will come out with my box," I said, hugging my loyal nanny.

"I will. God will be with us," Theresa said, hugging me back. 

After Theresa left the airport, I walked towards the exit. I will find a place to sit. I am unsure if I will be going to wait for Theresa's or if I will go back to Paris as soon as possible.