Rebirth: Love me Again

[LINA]

"Why are you and your brother like this?" my father muttered. "Always so eager to throw everything away for love."

I almost laughed—despite the tension—because deep down, I knew exactly why.

"It's because we're your children," I said quietly. "You might not remember, but you once gave up a lot for love too. For Mom."

His glare sharpened—but he didn't deny it.

He took another breath, rubbing his forehead as though this entire situation had aged him ten years. "Come back home, Lina. Take Dylan with you if you must—we'll talk about this later. Right now, I need you."

I blinked. "Wait . . . What? You need me?"

I had mentally prepared myself for a dramatic standoff, even a kidnapping attempt. But this?

"Yes," he said tightly. "Don't make me say it again."

"You're . . . letting me take Dylan?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"Do you want me to actually drag you into the helicopter kicking and screaming?" he snapped.

I quickly shook my head.

"But don't think for one second that I'm okay with this," he added. "This is an emergency. That's all. I'm prioritizing business, not romance." His eyes cut to Dylan once more. "And as for you—don't think we're done here. We're far from it."

Dylan didn't flinch. He simply bowed his head respectfully. "Understood, sir."

I didn't care if my father disapproved. Right now, all that mattered was that Dylan was still here. Still with me. And for the first time, not as my bodyguard . . . but as my partner.

We looked at each other and smiled—relieved, overwhelmed, but happy.

This was our beginning.

Just when I was about to breathe easier, my father added sharply, "By the way, Lina . . . we need you because your brother is missing."

"What?" I said, alarmed. "What do you mean missing?"

"He went to Frizkiel," my father replied, as if that explained everything.

My heart skipped. "Frizkiel? Why would he—?"

"He found out he has a son," my father said, sighing.

I blinked. "Wait . . . with Eve?"

He didn't answer, just stared at me like I'd asked the most obvious question in the world.

"I . . . guess I'm not that surprised," I muttered, then glanced at Dylan, who looked like he was trying very hard not to react.

My father's glare returned to Dylan again. "You'd better not be next. I'm already dealing with one love-struck idiot."

Dylan, to his credit, stood his ground. "If I am . . . I will take full responsibility, sir. I'll protect Lina and make her happy for the rest of her life."

"Shut up, you," my father grumbled, turning away. "Let's go before I change my mind."

As he walked toward the helicopter, I heard him muttering under his breath, "Honestly, if it weren't for your mother, I'd tear this island apart and separate you two myself. You should both be grateful to her."

I ignored him. Because right now, I was too busy smiling from ear to ear with Dylan at my side.

We had made it. There was still resistance, yes. But this was the start of something real.

Something that I had waited for many years.

There's still a lot to work through — Dylan hasn't fully recovered from his childhood trauma, and healing doesn't happen overnight.

But I believe that as long as we face it together, we can slowly build the happy family we both deserve.

His nightmares have come less frequently these past few nights, especially when he sleeps beside me. It's a small change, but it feels like a step forward — a sign that, maybe, the walls he built around himself are beginning to lower.

We still have a long way to go. There will be setbacks, hard days, and painful memories to face. But we've taken the first step — hand in hand, side by side.

And that was the most important thing.

====

Going back home, the first thing I did was tell Daniel about Dylan and me.

He had always been calm, quiet, and understanding. That was one of the reasons I found comfort in him—his presence never demanded anything, but somehow, he always made space for me.

I expected him to be shocked. To be angry. To feel betrayed. After all, he had always been there for me, especially when things got tough at home.

In those silent moments when my world was caving in, Daniel stood by like a lighthouse in a storm.

But when I finally told him, I wasn't met with fury or bitterness. He simply stood there, looking at me, and smiled—soft and sad, like a man watching something beautiful slip out of reach.

"I knew," he said quietly. His voice cracked just a little, but he kept his composure. "Maybe not at first . . . but I always knew it was him."

A lump rose in my throat. I hated this. I hated hurting him. Daniel deserved better.

"You're a good man, Daniel," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. "I'm sorry."

He blinked away the tears that clung to his lashes and gave me a small nod. "Don't be. I liked you, Lina. A lot more than I probably should've. But I guess . . . deep down, I also knew that I wasn't the one you loved. Besides, we have started this as a relationship with benefits."

My chest ached.

I realized then how much Daniel had grown on me. It wasn't just gratitude. It wasn't just friendship. I did like him.

Maybe in another life, in another universe where I had never met Dylan—or where Dylan had never loved me back—maybe things between Daniel and me could've worked.

But life didn't always give you the clearest paths.

"I liked you too, Daniel," I admitted. "But not in the way you deserved."

He gave me a smile, this time a little more genuine, though the sadness still lingered. "I know. And that's okay."

There was a pause between us. A silence filled with things neither of us said. Things like thank you and I'm sorry and you'll always be important to me.