Classic Novel
65
New York, Mia
Today was a special day. Sebastian was flying into New York to see me, and we had plans to get breakfast together. As I got ready in my room, I couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of anticipation. It had been nearly three weeks since I had seen him last, and those weeks had been filled with the chaos of his busy life packed with meetings, business responsibilities, and the emotional toll of dealing with his mother’s court trials. But today, he had finally managed to carve out some time for us, taking a well-deserved day off to share breakfast with me.
As I contemplated my appearance, deciding on the perfect hairstyle, Bella entered my room, a warm smile gracing her face. She carried a tray with a steaming cup of coffee. “Enjoy your breakfast date today,” she said, her voice filled with genuine happiness for me. I returned her smile, grateful for her presence in my life. “Have a good day at work,” I told her, waving her goodbye.
I proceeded to finish styling my hair and applying makeup, all the while my heart racing with excitement. I chose a lovely dress that elegantly showcased my small baby bump, a constant reminder of the beautiful future Sebastian and I were eagerly anticipating. After checking myself in the mirror, I packed a bag with some essentials, just in case.
It was precisely at that moment that my phone chimed with a message from Sebastian, letting me know that he had arrived outside. My heart skipped a beat as I grabbed my bag and headed out to meet him. Opening the door, I found him standing there, his warm smile immediately melting away the separation of the past few weeks. He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on my lips.
“I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice brimming with genuine affection and longing.
“I’ve missed you too,” I replied, my heart swelling with warmth. We held hands as we made our way to the car, ready to embark on our breakfast date.
During the car ride, Sebastian filled me in on the events of the past three weeks. He explained that his parents were going through a difficult time and that his father had recently divorced his mother who was currently serving time in prison. This revelation brought a mix of emotions. Divorces were never easy, even if the wife was a criminal, but Sebastian’s explanation painted a different picture. He disclosed that his father’s motivation for the divorce was to build better relationships with his sons, including Sebastian, and to be more involved in their lives and the lives of their future children.
I couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief upon hearing this. It was heartening to know that his father was taking such a step to be closer to his family, even if it came through a significant life change. As I rested my hand on my baby bump, I felt a sense of gratitude that our child would have a grandfather who was willing to be a part of their life, just as Sebastian was eager to be a part of ours.
The breakfast shop we arrived at was a charming haven, basking in the golden morning light. It was one of those delightful places that remained a well-kept secret, not yet overrun by the hustle and bustle of city life. The atmosphere exuded coziness, and the scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm, toasted bread enveloped the space.
Sebastian, ever the gentleman, opened the door for me, and I stepped out of the car. His hand found mine, and together, we strolled into the welcoming embrace of the cafe. The interior was just as inviting as the exterior, with soft lighting and the muted hum of conversation.
We settled into a table, and a friendly waiter appeared, placing menus before us. I scanned the options, the choices as enticing as the aroma wafting from the kitchen. Eventually, I decided on a cappuccino and a club sandwich, a combination of comfort and indulgence that felt just right for the occasion.
Once we had placed our orders, I started sharing the events of the past week with Sebastian. I spoke about my work, the projects I had been immersed in, and the challenges that came with it. As I talked, I couldn’t help but think about my father’s phone call earlier in the day, the stark reminder of the difficult childhood I had endured.
Sebastian listened attentively, his warm gaze fixed on me as he held my hand beneath the table. His touch was grounding, a source of strength and support in that moment. When I finally mentioned my father, his expression softened, and he gently stroked my hand.
“I am so sorry you had a… difficult childhood,” he said, choosing his words with care.
I smiled softly, appreciating his empathy. “It’s okay,” I replied, my voice laced with resilience. “I’m over it. I’ve moved on, and now I just want my baby to have the best of the best.” The thought of our child’s arrival filled me with a sense of purpose and determination. I wanted to ensure that they would have a loving and nurturing environment, a stark contrast to the challenges I had faced in my own upbringing.
Sebastian nodded, his gaze unwavering. “Trust me, our baby will be spoiled rotten,” he declared with a playful grin, his eyes sparkling with affection.
I couldn’t help but laugh, the warmth of his words wrapping around me like a comforting embrace. In that instant, I realized how fortunate I was to have him by my side, not only as a partner but as a father to our child. He was a source of unwavering support and love, and together, we would create a future filled with happiness and abundance for our growing family.Property © of NôvelDrama.Org.
As we awaited our breakfast, the sense of peace and contentment settled over us. It was a moment of respite from the chaos of life, a reminder of the simple joys found in a warm cup of coffee and a delicious sandwich shared with someone you loved.
Our food arrived, and the delightful aroma filled the air, tantalizing my senses. The sight of the steaming cappuccino and the mouthwatering club sandwich was almost too much to bear. My anticipation had reached its peak, and I couldn’t wait to dig in.
As I reached for my coffee, the cup’s warmth embracing my hands, the door of the breakfast shop swung open, and a chilling draft of air swept through the room. I turned to see who had entered, and my heart plummeted. There, standing in the doorway, was my father.
Time seemed to freeze as our eyes locked. His gaze, initially cold and piercing, darkened with fury when he saw me. My hands trembled, and the cup of coffee nearly slipped from my grasp. It was a moment I had hoped would never come an unexpected, unwelcome encounter with a man who had caused me so much pain.
In that instant, anger and fear coursed through my veins. I wanted nothing more than to turn away and avoid the confrontation, but it was too late. My father was moving toward our table with determined, thunderous steps. Panic bubbled up inside me as I felt the room’s collective gaze shift toward us, the tension in the air palpable.
Before I could react, my father reached our table and, with a swift, shocking motion, he slapped me. The impact was a searing burst of pain on my cheek, and I could feel my head spin from the force of the blow. Stars seemed to form in front of my eyes as my head collided with the table’s edge, and then everything went black.