Chapter 137 006
IT was Sunday evening when Mrs. Harlow stepped into her daughter’s house, her handbag tucked neatly under her arm, her posture straight despite the long drive. The familiar scent of the house— warm, lived-in, unmistakably Amelia’s, greeted her before anything else could.
She had barely taken two steps into the living room when a small force collided with her legs.
“Grandma!” Gaddiel exclaimed, his voice ringing with excitement as he jumped up at her.
“Oh my!” Mrs. Harlow laughed, instinctively catching him and steadying herself before she lost balance. “Gad, you have grown so big, my love.” She bent slightly and ruffled his hair, smiling warmly.
Gaddiel beamed, his chest puffing out with pride.
“Yes! Yes! I told Gabriel this, but he wouldn’t believe me. He insists he is the only one growing big.”
Mrs. Harlow chuckled as she carefully made her way to the couch and settled down.
“My dear, don’t mind him. You have grown bigger than the last time I saw you,” she said with certainty.
Gaddiel’s grin widened.
“See? I told him!”
“Where is him by the way?” she asked gently.
“He is in our room,” Gaddiel replied quickly. “Playing his game. Mom said we should finish homework before dinner, but Gabriel said five more minutes.”
Mrs. Harlow shook her head fondly.
“Of course he did. And your mom? Where is she?”
“She is upstairs,” Gaddiel said. “She came back tired from church, we all did, but only mom looks tired. Hazel said she looks happy though.”
Mrs. Harlow smiled at that.
“Go and call your mom for me, hmm?”
“Yes, Grandma!” Gaddiel chirped, already skipping away, his footsteps echoing happily down the hallway.
The house grew quiet again, save for the low hum of the air conditioner.
A few minutes later, Hazel appeared in the living room, carrying herself with that composed confidence she always did, her shoulders squared, expression thoughtful, eyes observant.
“Good evening, Grandma,” she greeted politely.
Mrs. Harlow’s face softened immediately.
“Hazel, my beautiful girl. Come here.” She opened her arms slightly, and Hazel stepped forward for a brief hug.
“How are you?” Mrs. Harlow asked as Hazel sat across from her.
“I’m fine,” Hazel replied. “School has been… busy.”
“I can imagine. You are growing gradually into a beautiful woman,” Mrs. Harlow said, studying her closely. “Go and get me a glass of water, dear.”
Hazel nodded.
“Okay.” She turned and dashed into the kitchen.
Just then, Amelia entered the living room. She looked tired just as her son had said, her shoulders were slightly slumped, her steps slower than usual, but there was a quiet glow about her that hadn’t gone unnoticed.
“Mom,” Amelia said warmly, her lips curving into a smile. “You are here.”
Mrs. Harlow stood carefully.
“I am.” They embraced, a familiar, comforting hug that spoke of years of shared struggles and understanding.
“You look exhausted,” Mrs. Harlow observed as they sat.
“It has been a long day, and a long service at church,” Amelia admitted. “But I’m okay.”
Hazel returned moments later, holding a glass of water.
“Here you go, Grandma.”
“Thank you, my dear,” Mrs. Harlow said, taking the glass and sipping slowly before handing it back. Hazel nodded and walked back into the kitchen.
For a moment, they spoke of trivial things— the drive, the weather, the twins’ schooling, the garden out back. Mrs. Harlow’s tone remained casual, light even, but her eyes never left Amelia for too long. There was a carefulness in the way she looked at her daughter, a quiet probing that Amelia could feel settling on her skin.
Finally, Amelia exhaled softly.
“Okay, Mom. Okay,” she said with a small laugh. “I don’t like that look anymore. What is it? Just say it.”
Mrs. Harlow raised a brow.
“Seriously?”
Amelia smiled deeply.
“Okay, fine. Yes. He proposed. The day before yesterday.” She lifted her hand, letting the ring catch the light.
Mrs. Harlow looked at it for a long moment.
“So you never really wanted to tell me?”
Amelia shook her head, laughing.
“No, Mommy, no. Don’t say that. I wanted to tell you today. Like… today.”
Mrs. Harlow hummed softly.
“Honestly. If Claire hadn’t told me, if she hadn’t been so excited about it over the phone last night, I wouldn’t have known, Amelia.”
Amelia’s laughter returned.
“No, Mom. That is not it. I wanted to tell you today. So Claire did tell you, huh?” She rolled her eyes playfully.
“Yes, she did. I’m sure she called.”
“Oh, she did,” Amelia replied. “I got a congratulatory message and a call from her yesterday morning. I didn’t expect her to tell you.”
“Well,” Mrs. Harlow said simply, “she did.”
They fell into a brief silence.
“So,” Mrs. Harlow said at last, “tell me about it.”
Amelia’s face brightened as she recounted the proposal— the restaurant, the moment, the words. Mrs. Harlow listened quietly, nodding occasionally, her expression unreadable.
“And how do you feel?” she asked when Amelia finished.
“Happy,” Amelia said without hesitation. “Peaceful.”
Mrs. Harlow studied her daughter carefully.
“Do you love him?”
“Yes,” Amelia replied. “I do.”
“And you are certain,” her mother continued gently, “that it is him? Charles? And not the idea of starting over?”
Amelia inhaled slowly.
“I’m certain.”
Mrs. Harlow nodded.
“You were certain once before too.”
Amelia didn’t flinch.
“I know.”
“And how did that certainty end?” her mother asked softly.
“With lessons,” Amelia said. “Hard ones. But I’m not the same woman anymore, Mom.”
Mrs. Harlow reached out, placing her hand over Amelia’s.
“I’m not unhappy for you,” she said calmly. “And I’m not excited either. I’m… watching.”
Amelia smiled faintly.
“That… sounds like you these days.”
“I just want to be sure,” Mrs. Harlow continued, “that you are choosing from wisdom this time, not hope alone.”
“I am,” Amelia said firmly.
Mrs. Harlow squeezed her hand once, then released it.
“Then I will trust you. But remember, love should bring peace, not questions.”
Amelia nodded. “I remember.”
The room settled into quiet again, the weight of the past acknowledged, the future still unfolding, unspoken, uncertain, but very much alive.