I was buried in work, as usual. Deadlines looming, emails flooding in, and my mind racing with everything I needed to finish before the end of the day. Noah was with Dane, so I could focus, or at least try to.
Then my phone rang.
Dad.
I froze for a second, surprised. He rarely called during the day unless it was something important.
I answered quickly, "Hello?"
"Where are you now, Maya?" he asked, his voice warm but carrying something more.
"I'm in my office right now, Dad. What about you and Mom? What are you two up to?"
"Well, surprise," he said with a chuckle. "We're in the capital right now. We missed you both a lot… so we took a flight and came here. Where's Noah? Is he with you?"
I blinked, stunned. They're here? My mind started spinning. What do I say if he asks about the company? About why I'm really here? About staying in the capital for a year or two?
"Wait there, Dad," I said quickly. "I'll come pick you both up."
I grabbed my things and rushed out. On the way, I told Catherine, "I won't be back for the rest of the day," trying to keep the excitement out of my voice. Ethan noticed, I think. He looked at me, confused, but didn't ask anything. I didn't have time to explain anyway.
When I saw my parents at the airport, something in me softened. They looked older somehow, or maybe I just hadn't noticed in a while. I hugged them tight, trying not to let my emotions show too much.
I drove them straight to the house.
The moment we pulled up, Dad looked around, uneasy. "Why are we here, Maya? I don't think it's a good idea to visit someone else's house uninvited…"
Mom echoed the question. "Why are we here, Maya?"
I just smiled. "What's wrong with visiting our old house?" I said, pulling them toward the entrance. "We can just say we used to live here. Just want to see it again."
Dad's face turned pale. "No, Maya… I don't like this. We shouldn't be here. I can't go through that again."
I didn't let go of his hand.
The door was already open.
I walked them inside.
The moment we stepped in, it was like time folded in on itself. The sunlight streamed in just like before. The air smelled faintly of home, of quiet dinners and old laughter and heartbreak. For a moment, I saw it in their eyes—they forgot this wasn't theirs anymore.
Then Dad spoke, his voice trembling. "No… Maya, we must leave before someone throws us out again. I can't…"
I turned to them both, my heart thudding in my chest.
"Dad. Mom. We're not standing in someone else's house," I said softly. "This is our house. In fact… it's yours."
I pulled out the keys from my bag and placed them gently in their hands.
"I told you I'd make this house ours again," I whispered. "Here. Now it really is."
Dad stumbled back and collapsed onto the sofa. His hands trembled around the keys.
"You mean… this is our house? You bought it?" he asked, eyes wide, wet.
"Yes, Dad. It's ours."
And hearing myself say it out loud—seeing the way his shoulders shook, how Mom covered her mouth to hold back a sob—it made my chest ache in the best and worst way.
This was why I worked so hard. This was why I came back.
For them. For us. For our home.