CHAPTER 3: The Prodigal Daughter.

My plane landed in New Orleans at 4:30 p.m. I stepped off and spotted Kelvin leaning against his car, arms folded, waiting.

"Hi," I said quietly when I reached him.

His eyes narrowed, just a flicker, then he stepped forward and wrapped me in a tight hug.

"I missed you," he said.

"Same here. I missed you too," I whispered, hugging him back. For a moment, the warmth of his arms broke through the cold I’d carried these past few years. It was bittersweet... a taste of the comfort I’d longed for, but almost forgotten.

When we pulled apart, I inhaled deeply. "How are Mom and Dad doing?"

Kelvin’s face shifted, suddenly serious.

"They're okay. Dad’s at the company dealing with a client. Mom’s at home... They're still upset, but..." He offered a small smile. "mom made your favorite meal."

My heart skipped. A roast chicken dinner... silent way of saying she still cared, even if she couldn’t say it aloud. That small gesture reminded me that despite all our differences, the bond we shared still lingered beneath the surface.

"Let’s go home," I said.

We both got into the car, and he drove us straight home.

My family house was still as I remembered it. Nothing much have changed except the flower garden... it was now a vegetable patch.

Kelvin stepped into the house first, and I followed right behind him. He led me through the halls I once knew like the back of my hand. My thoughts raced, and my chest tightened with every step. I knew this wouldn’t be easy. They haven't forgiven me. Not yet. But I had to try.

Kelvin led me to the dining room where, the fresh aroma of home-cooked food filled the air, wrapping around me like a ghost from another life.

Mom was setting a bowl of vegetable sauce on the table when we entered.

"Hey, Mom. I’ve returned with your prodigal daughter," Kelvin announced dramatically, then shot me a mischievous grin. "I know we’re supposed to slaughter a fattened goat or something... but you’ll have to settle for chicken."

He laughed at his joke. I smiled a little, albeit sheepishly.

But Mom wasn’t amused.

"Quit blabbering, you big-mouthed goat. Go get two bottles of wine from the cellar... and don’t forget the glass cups."

"Seriously, Mom... get a sense of humor," he muttered, heading off.

I stifled a laugh. I shouldn’t be laughing. Not yet. But the moment stirred old memories... Kelvin and me playing pranks as kids.

I studied Mom’s face, trying to read her.

"Settle down. Your father will be back soon," she said flatly.

I nodded and turned to leave, but something stopped me. I turned back and wrapped my arms around her in a sudden hug.

She stiffened.

"I’m sorry, Mom. For everything."

She paused. And then she hugged me back. "It’s okay."

"Honey, I’m home!" Dad’s voice rang from the hallway.

Mom broke the embrace just as he entered the dining room.

"Hi, Dad," I greeted.

Nobody said anything else, and the situation soon got awkward.

Kelvin returned like a savior. "Wine and glasses acquired. Oh hey, Dad...you’re back early. How’d the deal go?"

"Now’s not the time," Mom cut in quickly. "Dear, go freshen up before dinner."

Dad nodded and headed upstairs.

Dinner was served twenty minutes later. The whole family sat at the table, passing plates, and eating.

Trying to ease into conversation, I asked, "So... how’s the company?"

My parents run a cosmetic company called 'Starline Limited'. Though it was small, and can't be in anyway compared to 'Sun and Moon limited'. But it paid the bills and put Kelvin and me through college.

Mom sighed.

"It's not doing great. We’ve taken out loans, but there’s still no real breakthrough. We’re trying to hold on."

"And you, Kelvin?" I asked, shifting focus.

"I’m managing the salon and store we opened last year. It's faring better than Starline, honestly."

"That’s good. So how..."

"What about your husband?" Dad asked, cutting through my words like a blade.

I froze. Just for a breath.

"We divorced."

"What happened? I thought he was the air you breathed," Dad snapped. His words landed like a slap.

I had no choice. I told them everything.

Dad’s reaction was instant.

"I warned you. I told you not to marry that man. But no... you eloped like a foolish child!"

I quickly knelt. Hands trembling.

"Dad. Mom. I’m sorry. For what I did three years ago. I’ve learned. I won’t ever disrespect you like that again. Please... forgive me."

Mom reached for Dad’s hand. "She’s still your child," she said gently, then looked at me. "Get up. Let’s finish our meal."

I stood. No one spoke again that night. We ate in silence.

The first week passed like a careful ceasefire.

Mornings started with the hiss of Mom’s kettle. Dad left early, Kelvin followed.

I cleaned. Helped in the store. Built a rhythm. Slowly, the weight between us lightened.

Then came the nausea.

Morning sickness. Fatigue. At first, I thought it was the flu. But Mom... wise and quiet... left a pregnancy test on my nightstand.

"I can’t be pregnant," I told myself. Julian and I tried for three years... nothing. He never said it, but I knew he blamed my body. I blamed it too.

Still... that evening, I took the test.

Five minutes later, it showed positive.

I stared at the result. Frozen. No tears. No panic. Just stillness. Like the world had gone quiet to make room for the truth.

A child.

Julian’s? Or the man from that drunken night... a stranger whose name I didn’t even remember?

A soft knock.

"Lexi?" Mom’s voice, gentle. Knowing. "Do you want to talk?"

I opened the door.

She didn’t ask. She just held me. I crumbled in her arms and wept...deep, ugly sobs. And she held me like she used to when monsters under the bed seemed real enough to fear.

We didn’t say much that night. But when she tucked me in and stroked my hair, I knew:

Whatever happened next... I wouldn’t face it alone.

A few days later, she asked, "So... what will you do about the baby?"

"I’m keeping it. I need something to hold on to. Something to live for."

She nodded.

When Dad and Kelvin found out, they didn’t say much. But it was obvious that they were not thrilled.

But with a new sense of purpose, I asked Dad for Starline’s financials. Reluctantly, he handed over the ledgers.

I spent days buried in spreadsheets. Loans from Crescent Bank. Outstanding invoices. Bleeding cash. Starline wasn’t sinking... it was already halfway under.

At dinner, I laid out a plan:

Cut three failing product lines.

Overhaul the website.

Do in-store demos at Kelvin’s salon.

Reach out to partner brands.

Dad listened without interrupting. Kelvin’s jaw practically hit the table when Dad said, "We’ll try your way."

Over the next three months, we implemented the plan. Some traction. Some progress. But not enough. No major partners said yes.

We borrowed again... one last lifeline... and launched a youth-focused product line.

By now, my belly had begun to show. The secret was out.

Then, at last... an email, from 'White Rose'. One of the biggest fashion companies in the country. They wanted a meeting.

Dad wanted to go. I convinced him to let me handle it.

On the appointed day, I drove to White Rose’s Louisiana branch.

The lobby was filled with other companies reps. I scanned the room.

And then I saw him.

My ex-husband

Julian.