Chapter 219: Revisit
The announcent of their descent roused Samuel from his light nap. He stretched slightly, glancing at Timmy, who was busily organizing papers on his tablet.
"We’re finally here," Samuel said, adjusting his tie.
Timmy nodded, looking equally relieved and exhausted. "It’s been a long day, sir. But everything’s set. I’ve already contacted the local coordinator for the wedding arrangents."
"Good," Samuel replied, his lips curling into a small smile. "Now let’s see how Zinnia planned to greet us."
As they walked through the airport’s arrival gate, Samuel spotted Zinnia standing by a café, waving excitedly. She wore a simple but elegant dress, her hair tied in a loose ponytail, and her eyes sparkled when they t Samuel’s.
"Sam! Timmy!" Zinnia called out, walking toward them.
Samuel’s face lit up at the sight of her. "Zia," he greeted warmly, pulling her into a brief hug. "It’s good to see you."
"Likewise," she replied, stepping back slightly. "How was the flight?"
"Tiring," Timmy interjected with a playful groan. "But we survived."
Zinnia chuckled. "Well, I’ve got just the thing to make up for it. Co on, I’ll take you to the apartnt I stayed in during high school and college."
Zinnia drove them through familiar streets, pointing out landmarks from her youth. "That’s the library where I used to spend most of my evenings," she said, gesturing to a modern building. "And over there, that café served the best hot chocolate."
Samuel listened attentively, his gaze following her gestures. "It’s nice seeing this part of your life," he said. "It feels like I’m finally catching up with the Zinnia I didn’t know back then."
She smiled softly, her voice warm. "I’m glad you’re here now."
When they arrived at the apartnt, Zinnia led them inside. The space was modest but cozy, with personal touches in the décor—old books, frad photos, and a few paintings she had done herself.
"This place hasn’t changed much," Zinnia said, her voice tinged with nostalgia.
Samuel ran a hand over the back of the couch. "It feels like you," he said simply.
Timmy looked around appreciatively. "This is great, Miss Zinnia. You must have a lot of mories here."
"I do," she admitted, glancing around. "But enough about that. Let’s get you both settled. Afterward, we’ll head to the hospital to see my parents."
Later that afternoon, Zinnia led them into her father’s hospital room. Elena and Ricardo looked up, their faces lighting up when they saw them.
"Samuel! Timmy!" Elena exclaid, rising to greet them. "You’ve finally arrived."
Ricardo smiled warmly from his bed. "It’s good to see you both. How was the flight?"
"It was smooth," Samuel replied, shaking Ricardo’s hand. "How are you feeling, Dad?"
"Much better," Ricardo said, his tone reassuring. "The doctors say everything is on track for the surgery."
Elena glanced between Samuel and Zinnia, her eyes twinkling. "It’s so nice to see you two together. You’re such a lovely couple."
Zinnia blushed slightly, while Samuel gave a polite smile.
"We’re glad to be here," Samuel said. "And I plan to make the most of this ti with Zinnia."
Ricardo nodded approvingly. "Good. Zinnia, why don’t you show Samuel around while he’s here? There are so many beautiful places he should see."
Zinnia hesitated for a mont but quickly nodded. "Of course, Dad."
Samuel turned to Timmy. "Timmy, I’ll need you to take care of the wedding arrangents while we’re out. I trust you’ll handle everything?"
Timmy gave a mock salute. "Consider it done, sir."
After spending so ti catching up with Zinnia’s parents, they parted ways. Timmy left to et the wedding planner, ard with instructions from Samuel, while Zinnia and Samuel headed out to explore the city.
As they walked through familiar streets, Zinnia pointed out places that held special mories for her. "That’s where we had our senior prom," she said, gesturing toward an old event hall.
Samuel glanced at her, a curious smile on his face. "Did you enjoy it?"
"It was... morable," she replied, her tone evasive.
Samuel didn’t press further, sensing the bittersweet undertone in her voice. Instead, he slipped his hand into hers. "Let’s make new mories here, then."
Zinnia looked up at him, her heart skipping a beat. "I’d like that," she said softly.
---
Samuel and Zinnia strolled through the museum’s grand halls, taking in the works of art displayed around them. The air was thick with a quiet reverence, as visitors murmured in hushed tones while admiring the masterpieces.
After sampling the local delicacies earlier, Zinnia seed more relaxed, her expression soft and contemplative as she led Samuel to the wing showcasing modern art.
"There it is," Zinnia said softly, pausing near the center of the gallery.
Samuel followed her gaze to a large, captivating painting titled Beautifully Tragic, displayed prominently on the wall.
Zinnia stepped closer to the painting, her hand instinctively reaching toward it, though she stopped short of touching the glass that encased it.
Samuel, watching her from a few steps behind, quietly pulled out his phone. He frad her in the shot—her figure illuminated by the soft museum lights, her face partially turned toward the painting. Her presence seed to rge seamlessly with the piece, as if the painting was an extension of her soul.
He clicked the photo, the sound of the shutter barely audible in the quiet hall.
Zinnia turned slightly, sensing his gaze. Her eyes t his as she caught him slipping the phone back into his pocket.
"You’re taking secret photos of
now?" she teased gently, her lips curving into a smile.
Samuel shrugged, his own smile matching hers. "Couldn’t help it. You looked... perfect."
Her cheeks ward slightly, but she didn’t press further. Instead, she gestured toward him. "Co here, Sam."
Samuel walked toward her, his steps asured, but as he neared, his focus shifted to the painting itself.
The closer he got, the more Beautifully Tragic seed to envelop him. The interplay of colors and the raw emotion it exuded—it was unlike anything he had ever experienced before.
He had seen photographs of the painting online, of course. But standing before it now, seeing the depth of each brushstroke and the story it unfolded, it felt as though the painting was speaking directly to him.
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