The sounds of footsteps, voices, and laughter filled the air as different people from different backgrounds with different destinations walked every which way. 

People were standing, people sitting, people pushing carts, people pushing luggage, people holding up signs, security and special sniffing dogs prancing around with security on the other end of the leash, bags getting searched, and people doing their jobs. 

In the midst of it, all stood two tall men, facing each other a few feet away from the departure unit, while people walked on, discreetly sparing them glances. 

One would be intimidated by merely looking at them, they were that hunky. They would be mistaken for departure security if it weren't for their outfits and the luggage underneath the older man's hand. 

You would never guess that they were father and son. 

The older man, looking like he was in his early forties, was Blake Maxwell. He was an ordinary, decent man in his early fifties. His eyes were pale brown, like mud after a heavy downpour. 

His trenchcoat hung low, betraying his intentions of hiding just how much weight he had lost. 

The old man's eyes wandered wearily, with his frown lines more evident than usual. One could spot how tired and stressed he was from a mile away. 

The man was no more than an average old man; intelligent, tolerant, and logical. He wasn't interested in unnecessary attention from people, his attractiveness was just an inevitable fraction of his life. 

His son on the other hand was a different case. 

Kylas jubsin was rather pronounced to the members of the public, with emphasis on a particular gender. Ladies would do anything, anything at all, just to have a minute of his attention. 

Standing at a towering six feet, Kylas embodied perfect and unfaltering masculinity.  He was handsome, not in the conventional sense with razor-sharp features and undersized clothes, but he was unfathomably beautiful. 

He always stood out in every crowd he was opportune to be among. His brown eyes, like luminous burning coals of fire, were deep and mysterious, and you could get caught in the mystery if you stare long enough. 

Perhaps that's why women struggle to get a second glance. 

He was not extremely muscular, with 8-pack abs or 16 cm biceps, but he had a great body. Another feature that always drew attention to him is the way he carries himself. 

The thirty-year-old practically oozed confidence and sex appeal. His oddly good-looking poker face, which he had on most of the time, didn't lessen his attractiveness in any way. If anything, it only contributed to it. 

For a thirty-year-old, he looked rather young. I guess aging doesn't exist in their family. 

"Are you sure you want to go back to England?"

"It's my—"

"Yeah I know it's your home now, but you don't have to go, you're welcome to stay here with me," Kylas told his father, his expression softening for a second.  

Mr. Jubsincleared his throat to ease the awkward tension that was slowly rising between them.

"I've been here with you long enough, and I don't want to be a problem to you. It's time for you to be free, to live your own life. It's time for mama bird to kick her little bird off the branch." The unfunny joke he made at the end was an attempt to lighten the mood, but it didn't work. 

Kylas's face contorted into a frown. "No. You're not a problem to me, I don't see it honestly!" He whined seriously if that's a thing. 

"Li—"

He abruptly cut off his father mid-sentence, "You saved my life. You know it." He spoke quietly. 

"Do we have to go over this again, Kylas?"

Kylas sighed worriedly, placing a hand on his father's shoulder. He didn't know why the man was being so stubborn. 

"Yes, and I don't care if we have to go over this again, but you have to listen to me," He saw his father gulp worriedly but disregarded it and continued to speak, "I cannot—*

"Kylas!" Blake called, but Kylas didn't seem to care, as he continued speaking. 

"You've done a lot for me in the last few months, you know that. And I can't repay you for everything, if I could, I would've. You saved my life, Dad. If it weren't for you, I definitely wouldn't be here or even see the light. I owe you my life." 

Kylas's deep voice and cold facade betrayed him here. His voice was shaky as he spoke and his eyes gradually grew red and teary. Silence fell upon the both of them, but it wasn't awkward this time. 

"You could always say thank you." His father attempted to lighten the air again. 

Blake staggered a little but quickly regained balance as he reciprocated his son's action, putting his arms around him as well. 

Kylas's hold on his father got tighter as he asked, "Why? Why did you save me? I neglected and disregarded you all this while and y-y-you still saved me. Why?" 

A comfortable silence fell upon them as they just held each other. 

Pulling back, Jubsinfinally replied, "You're my son, regardless of whatever you do. And I'll do it every day if I have to." He smiled at him. ", By the way, you weren't the only one accused of being guilty, I was too."

Kylas's features softened as he grinned, "I wanted to explore but I went a little bit off."

"A little bit?"

"Yeah, just a little bit." He gave his Dad a toothy grin. 

His father sighed heavily, turning gloomy once again, "I wish I could stay here in Italy with you, son. Even more, I wish you could move to England with me, at least that would help you recover from your traumas, the change of environment would be good for you." 

"It would, but I honestly can't." Kylas ran his fingers through his hair. "I grew up here, and for the first twenty years of my life, this was my home. This is my home." His eyes traveled to the floor as if he was afraid of being this honest. 

"I know, son."

"Well, enough about me now. How about you? Does Helen still trouble you?"

"When has she ever not? My feelings for Roxy remain the same and she has problems with that, so she passes those problems to me." 

"And her daughter…"

"I haven't heard from her since then and I don't know her whereabouts either."

Cue another awkward silence. The only hearable sounds were the sounds of people talking and laughing in the background. But they didn't care, they were in their world.  

"Speaking of women, Kylas, I think it's time for you to get married. That's the solution to all these problems."

Kylas gave his father a knowing smile. His father picked his brains,b because these were amthsamesame was thinking at the moment. 

Kylas had looks to die for, and women did figuratively die for him and his looks, but he never really found one he liked enough to love or even think about marriage. 

He had been with many women in the past, but none of them ever struck him. He never had his zing. He never had any intentions to keep any of them, he just had them for his pleasure. 

"It's been on my mind as well. It was all I could think about while I was there. I think I'm ready to settle down." He stuck his hands in his pants pockets. 

His father was surprised. "Really?" He never thought his son would ever even consider it, and here he was, agreeing to it. 

"Yeah, but I don't know who yet. I have nobody in mind."

"Good women aren't going to jump into your hands, boy. You have to find her, and when you do, treat her right. You have to be a good man to find and keep a good woman." His father patted his right arm lightly. 

"I'll keep that in mind."

"My flight leaves in fifteen minutes, call me when you need me?" His father asked unsurely. 

"Of course." He gave his Dad a warm smile. "Don't work too hard, and don't worry too much, okay?"

"I will." They shared one last hug before Blake walked the other way. 

After watching and making sure his father was gone, Kylas dragged his luggage behind him out of the airport. He flagged down an airport taxi and got in. 

"Take me to the nearest hotel." He spoke before the driver could turn his head. 

"That would be twenty euros, sir."

"I'm not new to Italy. so quanto costa, euroforno."

"Scusa signore, pensavo fosse un turista, sai che facciamo soldi con turisti ignore." The man laughed heartily. 

"Just go," Kylas told him, uninterested in whatever he was saying. 

The driver drove for about five minutes before coming to a stop in front of the beautiful hotel. 

Lights orbed in flowers surrounded the place, with rotating doors at the entrance. Kylas loved this hotel, it held a lot of memories for him. He paid the driver, got in, and booked a room. 

The old Kylas would've booked the best suite they had available, but this Kylas was wise with his money and cautious with his spending. 

He was finally relaxing, for the first time in a long time. After having a warm bath, he lay on the soft bed in nothing but shorts as he scrolled through his phone, searching for available apartments. 

He sighed as he scrolled through the same app for the umpteenth time. He was already getting tired of the search. All the other apartments were too expensive and above his budget, by far. 

He had learned his lessons about expensive and flashy apartments. 

He was about to give up and get off the app when a particular apartment owner's name caught his attention, immediately transporting him through different memories of the name at the speed of light. 

Cynthia  Robert. 

That name sounded all too familiar. 

So familiar that he betrayed his relaxation and sat up, leaning his back on the air as held his body up, scrolling through his phone faster, hoping to get more information on the profile of the owner, but he couldn't find any. 

Could it be her?