Chapter 74

Chapter 74
Michael looked back and forth between Georgiana and his father, confusion evident on his face. "You two know each other?"

Victor smiled warmly. "I did some waterproofing work at her family's home last year."

Michael frowned slightly. "I knew you were up to something again. How many times have I told you? You're supposed to be retired, not taking on jobs."

His father laughed, the wrinkles around his eyes softening. "I'm used to keeping busy. Sitting idle doesn't suit me."

Georgiana watched their interaction with interest. The resemblance between father and son was striking—not just physically, but in their mannerisms and temperament as well.

After sitting inside for a short while, Georgiana could no longer contain her curiosity. She made her way to Michael's bedroom, eager to see where he had grown up. The room was neat and orderly.

Having been away for so long, it no longer carried his scent, but the walls were covered with awards and certificates from his childhood, and shelves displayed carefully collected model airplanes.

Michael followed, straddling a desk chair as he watched her explore with amusement.

Georgiana completed her "inspection" of his bedroom before heading to the study, with Michael trailing behind.

Her eyes roamed the bookshelves. Among some world classics, most volumes related to physics, chemistry, electrical circuits, and materials science. What surprised her most was that all of Michael's textbooks—from elementary school through middle school, high school, and military academy—were arranged chronologically in neat rows.

"You kept all your schoolbooks?" she asked, her fingers lightly tracing their spines, noticing his handwritten notes and doodles in an open book.

Michael smiled. "My dad kept them. He says they have sentimental value."

"Your father really cares about you," Georgiana observed.

"Yes," Michael said softly. "More than anyone else."

Georgiana thought for a moment, then suddenly moved closer, whispering in his ear: "I'll care for you too."

Michael froze, looking at her with an expression of surprise.

Before he could respond, she darted out of the room with a mischievous smile—Victor was calling them for lunch.

The meal was abundant and varied. Georgiana ate heartily, helping herself to several servings.

Michael watched her, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I never realized you had such an appetite," he teased. "I might not be able to afford feeding you in the future."

Georgiana was gnawing on a chicken leg when she heard this, and looked up with a bewildered expression, sauce still clinging to the corner of her mouth. When she understood his meaning, she gave him an embarrassed glare.

Michael continued passing dishes her way. "Here, try this."

"I thought you said I was eating too much?" she protested half-jokingly.

"I take that back," he admitted with a smile.

Georgiana blushed, then noticed Victor chuckling quietly to himself, which only deepened her flush.

In the afternoon, Michael took Georgiana for a walk along the riverbank. He wore a casual hoodie and jeans, looking relaxed and natural. Watching him, Georgiana thought how no one would guess the focus and precision with which he had once disarmed bombs or wielded weapons in combat zones.

He noticed her staring and turned, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a smile. Sunlight glinted off his eyelashes, making them shimmer gold. "What are you looking at?" he asked.

"Did you ever swim in this river when you were little?" she asked.

Michael laughed. "Once, and I nearly drowned. Luckily my dad charged straight into the water and grabbed me by the ankle."

Georgiana couldn't help laughing as she pictured the scene.

"After that, I was strictly forbidden from playing in the river," he added.

"In my hometown, kids would swim in the river every summer," she said. "Someone would drown every year. But I was afraid of water—I only dared to play on the rocks near the shore."

Georgiana suddenly suggested they take a photo together. Michael pulled her close, holding up his phone. She rested her head against his shoulder, flashing a bright smile at the camera. Seeing her expression on the screen, Michael couldn't help smiling himself as he pressed the button.

They continued along the riverbank, eventually passing through a small spring grove before reaching Michael's former elementary school. Class had just ended, and a group of children played in the open area in front of the building. Their excited voices filled the air like hundreds of ducks splashing into water—chaotic but full of vitality rather than noise.

"Do you have childhood photos at home?" Georgiana asked.

"Quite a few."

"Show me when we get back?"

"Of course."

Georgiana happily gripped the iron fence, peering into the schoolyard. She pointed to a boy playing marbles with friends in a corner. "I bet you looked like him when you were little."

Michael leaned beside her. "Why him?"

"Because he's the best-looking one," she replied frankly.

Michael laughed, scanning the crowd of children before pointing to a little girl sitting quietly on the steps, absorbed in a comic book. "Then you must have looked like her."

"Really? Why?"

"She seems special. The kind of girl I would have liked when I was young." Georgiana covered her mouth, laughing, and took a photo of the little girl with her phone.

A few minutes later, the bell rang, and the children rushed back to their classrooms. Watching their innocent faces, Georgiana's smile faded slightly. "I wonder how those children in Syria are doing now."

Michael didn't respond with words. Instead, he pulled her close, gently stroking her hair before leading her away.

In the schoolyard, a physical education class was underway. Several students were taking a jump rope test near the wall.

Georgiana watched them jumping. "Were a lot of girls interested in you when you were in school?" she suddenly asked.

"I suppose so," Michael replied casually.

She glanced at him. "Did you receive love letters?"

He smiled. "I did."

"Did you like any girls back then?"

He shook his head.

Georgiana asked no more, turning her attention back to the students jumping rope.

She watched silently, perhaps imagining teenage Michael on this same playground, or maybe recalling her own high school days.

Michael embraced her from behind, his chin resting lightly against her temple as they watched the high schoolers together.

The rhythm of jump ropes hitting the ground, the cadence of footsteps, the whisper of spring breezes through the treetops—it was a perfect afternoon in spring.

The sun was setting by the time they returned home.

After dinner, Victor turned to Georgiana. "Do you have any plans for tomorrow, Georgiana? If not, why not stay another day?" He wasn't sure how serious their relationship was, but he had immediately taken a liking to her and wanted her to stay longer.

Michael remained neutral. "It depends on whether she has work tomorrow."

"That makes sense," his father acknowledged.

As Victor cleared the dishes, Michael pulled Georgiana aside. "Don't feel obligated to stay. If you've had enough, we can catch the evening train back."

Georgiana hesitated for a moment, then softly replied: "I don't have anything scheduled tomorrow. Staying another day would be nice."