After the al, Alia Garcia left early.
Back at the hospital, the ward was filled with cheer and laughter.
The three children had sohow gotten hold of so balloons, their cheeks puffed as they blew, blew, blew.
Once the balloons were big, they pinched the mouth shut, lifted them up, and let go.
The balloons imdiately flew around the room like crazy, making a farting sound.
Christopher Hart, usually so stern and serious, was playing happily with the children.
However, when his balloon flew away, it was the children who picked it up for him.
Alia Garcia stood outside the door for a while, waiting for her emotions to settle, before she entered.
"Mom! Mom, you’re back!"
"Mom, look, we’re playing a balloon blowing contest! It’s about whose balloon flies the highest, the farthest, haha! So much fun!"
"Mom, here, take one. Let’s compete!"
It was getting late; she wanted to say that they should head ho, but seeing the children so enthusiastic, she couldn’t bear to dampen their spirits, so she took a balloon and joined in this childish and mindless ga.
So, two adults and three kids together blew up balloons, lifted them high, and let go on the count of "one, two, three."
The five balloons raced around the ward, farting and flying erratically.
Alia Garcia’s mood instantly improved.
"Mom is amazing! Mom won!"
"Co on, co on! I want to play again, this ti I want to win!"
Alia Garcia looked at the ti; it was almost nine o’clock, so she had to remind them, "Play three more tis, win or lose, then we have to go ho and sleep."
The little ones pouted, "So soon we have to go back?"
"We haven’t played enough!"
Alia Garcia mimicked their manner of speaking, "But Dad is still a patient, he needs to rest early, or he won’t recover well and can’t get up soon to play with us."
Hearing this, the children imdiately beca sensible, "Then I want Daddy to get better quickly! Like before, let sit on his shoulders to fly! So cool!"
After playing three more tis, the children were still not satisfied, but they obediently stopped fussing.
Christopher Hart noticed Alia Garcia’s troubled look, but with the task of sending the children ho, he didn’t have ti to ask more.
Once the little ones had packed their school bags, they turned around to see Mom standing by the bed, and Dad holding her hand, a look of reluctant parting on his face.
"Mom..."
"Shh!"
Noah was about to say "Mom should leave now," but Hope quickly silenced him.
But Alia Garcia overheard, turned to look at the children, then back at soone, "It’s really late, I’ll co back early tomorrow..."
Before she finished, she heard the voice of her eldest son behind her, "Mom, you should stay with Dad; we can go back by ourselves."
"Huh?" Alia Garcia was surprised, turning to the children, eyes wide, "You go back by yourselves?"
"Sure, Uncle Fuller will pick us up. Anyway, it’s not the first ti we’ve been ho alone." The little one’s tone was very mature, as if being "abandoned" was already a norm for them.
Hope suddenly realized, looking at Dad lying on the hospital bed, and exclaid, "So Dad is the legendary ’man-child,’ seems like he needs Mom more than we do."
Alia Garcia’s face once again showed surprise, she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Turning back, she saw soone’s mouth twitching, pretending to be stern, "Hope Hart, who gave you the nerve to mock Dad every day?"
"Hmph!" The little girl folded her arms, turned her face to one side, "That’s just what I see."
Mr. Hart was unceremonious, "Alright then, you go back by yourselves, your mom’s mine tonight."
Alia Garcia frowned, "How can that be? They have school tomorrow."
"Tomorrow’s Saturday, no school."
She was taken aback, just realizing tomorrow was Saturday.
This... only two days into school, and it’s already the weekend again.
The little ones heard there was no school tomorrow and pouted unhappily, "Why is there another holiday just after school starts? I like going to school!"
"I love kindergarten’s nutritious als!"
"I love the handso gym teacher in kindergarten!"
Alia Garcia held her forehead, looking at her daughter with so concern... Is it that in the future she’ll truly be a lovestruck beauty chaser?
Since there’s no school tomorrow, and the children actively requested Mom to stay with ’man-child’ Dad, Alia Garcia thought for a mont and called Fuller.
Not long after, the three siblings lined up, chattering as they bid farewell.
After sending off the children, Alia Garcia returned to look in the direction of the hospital bed, her voice low and gentle, "What’s the matter with you again? You’ve been laughed at by your daughter as a man-child."
Speaking of the daughter, Christopher Hart feigned dissatisfaction with a cold snort, "Hope Hart, that heartless manner, I think it’s all inherited from you."
"What do you an? You think I’m heartless?"
"What, wrongly accused?"
Alia Garcia didn’t bother to argue with him, but rembered another question, "Did you choose our daughter’s na?"
"Who else then?"
Alia Garcia pondered, "How did you think of including ’Rain’ in her na? Simply because it sounds nice?"
Christopher Hart looked at her with deep, dark eyes.
The room was quiet for a mont before he spoke, "Actually... in the household registration, it’s ’Language,’ Hope Hart."
Alia García froze, her gaze fixed on him.
"You know what it ans. At that ti, I thought you had already passed away, so I planned to commorate you using our daughter’s na." But due to their divorce and because he hadn’t truly confronted his feelings at that ti, he outwardly declared it as "Hope Hart."
The room remained silent, and Alia García was quiet for a long ti, feeling both moved and regretful, "We... missed so much."
"Yes, at that ti, I was young and arrogant, stubbornly egotistical. I thought, that no matter how I treated you, you wouldn’t leave —until I completely lost you, then I realized how monstrously wrong I was."
She walked over, sat by the bedside, and couldn’t help but hold the man’s hand, sighing, "We are very fortunate. You know... so people, once missed, are lost forever, an irrediable regret."
Christopher Hart understood her so well, seeing her face lancholy, her eyes losing color, he asked with concern, "Are you talking about... the matter between your mom and Mr. Smith?"
"Yes." She nodded, narrating the truth she learned when she t with Thomas Smith that night.
"Perhaps because I was too young, my mom never told these things, but her unhappiness, her lack of joy and fulfillnt, I could feel even at a young age. Do you think when she passed away, she imagined she could et her beloved on the Underworld Road? Yet upon truly entering the Underworld... she found that her dear love wasn’t there..."
Imagining her mother, while alive, unable to join her heart’s love, believing they were long parted by life and death.
Upon death, still unable to et because he remained in the living world, again parted by different realms.
Both ends of the sorrow both forms of pain, she endured them.
Thinking of it brings a tightness to the chest, an indescribable pain.
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