Juliette and Korbyn, accustomed to their affection, barely blinked at the display downstairs.
Yet, another figure was present.
It was Mark.
Snow dusted the man as he entered, his gaze capturing the charged scene.
His scoff dripped with sarcasm as he said, âAh, Waylen, age hasnât diminished your romance.
â
Unbeknownst to all, Waylenâs memories had fully returned.
Seating Rena gently, Waylen said with a smile, âMark, Iâm only 35.
â
Markâs unease was palpable.
Waylenâs gaze shifted to Edwin, perched at the table.
Edwinâs timidity had thus far hindered him from addressing Mark as Dad.
With a gentle stroke of Edwinâs head, Waylen inquired.
âYour great uncle is here.
Why not greet him?â
Edwin, his voice a soft murmur, addressed Mark as great uncle.
Markâs hand ruffled Edwinâs hair as he chuckled.
A searching Look passed between Mark and Waylen.
Concealment might work with others, but not with Mark.
Did Waylen have something on his mind?
Mark didnât make it clear when Waylen wanted to spice things up.
He skillfully steered the conversation while seated beside Cecilia.
His voice hushed, he explained, âIâve been swamped Lately.
I only have a short break, so I came to see you.
Iâve got a flight to catch later.
â
Should he miss the plane, a long car ride would await.
Cecilia, her response unvoiced, remained silent.
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Months prior, Mark had prepared a house for them.
At the time, Cecilia had been ready to accept his proposal, the pain of the past seemingly abated.
Yet, constant work had forestalled their happiness.
Endless waiting had gradually eroded her faith.
Mark understood, yet the present setting allowed no room for such discussions.
As the family savored dinner and conversation flowed, Waylenâs attentiveness to Rena struck Markâs heart with a pang of envy of having a complete family.
Despite their trials, they remained united.
Mark longed for the same with Cecilia.