HANDSOME MASTER (Late In Love)

END

Today, right on Chamomile's birthday, everyone was there to celebrate a simple party we had in the backyard.

My mother's father came, with Safira. My father-in-law also came to bring gifts for Chamomile, as well as for me. Chamomile came with Duhan, some of my boutique employees got together, and Joe, he was always there wherever and whenever my husband was.

"Darling, let's cut the cake" asked my husband, we gathered in a large yard with beautiful princess-themed decorations.

"Everyone, let's get together." My husband said in a loud voice, drawing everyone's attention to get close at the large table that already had a variety of mini-cakes and a large birthday cake for Chamomile.

My little girl was sitting at the table near her cake playing a plastic spoon, she chatted happily to see many people around her.

Everyone sang a happy birthday song while clapping, Chamomile also followed the movement of applause while laughing funny.

"Happy birthday, dear. Aunty brought you a present, "claire said, he handed over a large box of parcels that became Chamomile's toy.

"Thank you for coming, Claire." I hugged her, she returned my embrace tightly.

"Eits, don't be too tight, later Chamomile's sister can be short of breath here," I said smiling while pointing at my flat stomach.

"Huh? Chamomile already wants a sister? seriously?" Claire snorted, she covered both her gaping mouth wide.

"It's been almost 3 months, Claire."

"Wow, I'm surprised!" claire exclaimed excitedly, she pulled the arm of Duhan who was busy chatting with my parents behind her.

"Honey, Chamomile wants to have a sister," said Claire, Duhan was no less surprised. As a result of Claire who screamed hysterically, made everyone gather and ask the truth.

"True, Chamomile will soon have a sister," exclaimed my husband loudly, he seemed happy to announce this good news.

Everyone cheered, applauded, my father and mother moved, they hugged me tightly. I began to accept the harsh reality of myself that was not the child of them, I tried hard even though they had not said it.

"Congratulations, Brother." Safira approached, congratulated and carried Chamomile.

"My niece is adorable, can you walk?" ask Safira.

"Then, a step two, even though it falls down often," I replied.

Chamomile in Safira's arms drifted away, for some reason, I felt Sapphira looked different, she did not so much show her hatred towards me. Ah, maybe because there's Chamomile.

"Son, we want to talk" said the father, holding my hand with my mother. My husband joined me at the very end of the table.

Maybe it's time they said it, I've prepared myself and my heart for what they're going to explain, I know it's all painful, but let the truth be revealed.

Father and mother took turns telling the story of my childhood, and where they adopted me, I listened intently, digesting each of his utterances, my husband clasped tightly onto my hands that began to tremble under the table.

"I'm sorry if this is too late, sorry." She was crying, covering her face with both hands.

Me? there were no tears at all, everything was already dry, before they told the truth, I had been crying for months.

"It's okay, Dad. Sabrina understands." I smiled and nodded. They looked confused, as if they couldn't believe my usual reaction.

"Where are the documents Sabrina has to sign?" ask me slowly, I've guessed that they said all this because they asked for my signature.

"You, you know what?" ask dad while his lips shake.

"So ...." Father's words hang.

"Yes, Sabrina knew it all a few months ago, and she was almost dying of illness." My husband spoke slowly.

"I'm sorry, son. We don't mean ...."

"It's okay, Mom. I understand, thank you for being the best parent in the world to me, without you, maybe I would be an orphan forever." I stood closer, hugging the two angels who had raised me with sweat and affection.

...

At the age of 18 months Chamomile, I gave birth to her sister, a handsome baby boy, very similar to her father, I gave her the name Brailyn Charleston.

"I wonder why all my children don't look like me?" many confused.

"Maybe it's because you've always lost a battle with me, dear," my husband replied, twitching one eye, flirtatious.

"If the words of old parents, dominant children like his father, then his father is more in control of the battlefield during the making process," Joe said, holding back laughter.

I clucked in annoyance, dissatisfied with the answer of two men who were completely unreasonable.

"Mommy ..." cried my daughter from the door, she came in the arms of her father-in-law, and ran to her father. At the age of 18 months, he was able to pronounce some words with the typical language of children.

"Daddy misses, is Chamomile naughty at home eyed?" asked my husband to hold his daughter, Chamomile shook his head and smiled, revealing his four teeth.

"You're healthy, son." Papa kissed the tip of my head, he stroked Charles' hair in my sling.

"Healthy, Pa. Thank you for taking care of Chamomile for a few days."

"Papa was very happy, he was a smart boy, papa brought you a gift," said papa, handing over a small box covered in red velvet.

"Gift? thanks, Pa." I smiled happily and opened the box, a white-eyed diamond ring with the engraving of my name on it, so beautiful.

"Pa, this is great. Thanks."

"You deserve this gift, son. Even this feeling is not enough to express my gratitude for your struggle to complete our family."

I hugged my father-in-law. It is such a joy to have in-laws who love me so much, every time I give birth, she always gives me small gifts at fantastic prices.

But it is not about the price, but sincerity and affection that makes me happier in the middle of this family.

Now I have given two little angels as a complement, Chamomile and Charles. I wish them to be proud sons and daughters.

-END

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