Kaylee was caught off guard by the revelation. She hadn't known that Victor had already set up a wardrobe for her at the Langford estate. After all, their wedding was still five months away, and they planned to live at Victor's house, not the estate. It didn't make sense for him to have prepared another wardrobe here—especially so early.
Her thoughts suddenly flashed back to the time she was recovering from severe hypothermia at Victor's house, where she had discovered an entire wardrobe of clothes—her size, her style, even down to several brands of lingerie, all perfectly fitted. The memory made her blush.
"...Oh." She hesitated, unsure of how to respond. After an awkward pause, she finally said, "I guess I'll go pack, then."
She lingered for a moment, uncertain whether to go upstairs on her own or ask for guidance. After all, she hadn't been to the upper floors, which she considered the family's private space. It didn't feel right to intrude.
Before she could voice her thoughts, Victor signaled to a nearby servant, who immediately stepped forward to guide her upstairs and assist with her luggage.
As Kaylee followed the servant, Victor turned to his sister, a mix of amazement and pride in his expression. "You sure about this?"
Victoria looked at him, her expression serious but not as guarded as usual. "Yeah, why not? I don't know what will come of it, but... I feel like it's something I need to do. I don't want to keep treating her like she's an outsider. She's family now. Or she will be soon."
Victor stepped closer, pride and warmth radiating from his eyes and smile. Gently, he placed his hand on Victoria's head, the way he used to when they were much younger. "I'm sure you'll have a great time together. Take care of each other," he said softly.
Then, he lowered his hand and walked back toward Ford, leaving Victoria standing there, slightly frozen.
She was stunned by the long-lost gesture, the familiar touch that brought back memories of when they were closer—before things had changed, before the distance had grown between them. Back then, their family had been whole, and happy. The thought stirred something deep in her, and tears welled up in her eyes. She sniffled quietly, forcing them back.
It had been so emotional lately. She shook her head lightly, pushing aside the rush of feelings, and then left the sunroom to pack her things. The unplanned road trip suddenly felt more exciting, and more meaningful.
***
Victor offered his Honda Accord to the ladies, deciding to stay back and spend the afternoon with his father. It was a rare occurrence, one that utterly thrilled Ford. Though he maintained his usual calm demeanor, in his heart, it was as if a sky full of fireworks had been unleashed.
About twenty minutes later, Ford and Victor stood near the estate's entrance, watching Kaylee and Victoria drive away in the black Accord. The car's taillights faded into the distance, leaving the two men alone.
They soon found themselves seated at a small table in the home office, a chessboard laid between them like an unspoken contract—a delicate dance between two minds. They had played countless times when Victor was younger, his father teaching him the intricacies of strategy. But Victor was no longer that boy. His mind—and his chess game—had matured beyond what Ford had expected.
The pieces moved methodically, each shift deliberate and calculated. Ford's black queen held the center, guarded by his bishop, while Victor's white knight had just eliminated Ford's last remaining rook in a swift, decisive move. The air between them crackled with intensity as Victor hovered over the board, searching for his next play.
Ford sat quietly, his hands resting calmly on the table, his sharp eyes tracking every move. His king, cornered and seemingly on the defensive, told only half the story. Anyone who knew Ford knew better. Victor, deep in thought, considered advancing his knight further. His rook commanded the center of the board, exerting control—but a trap lay hidden. Ford's queen was poised to strike.
Victor pushed his knight forward. But in one smooth motion, Ford shifted his bishop, forcing Victor's queen into a vulnerable position. The younger man looked up, catching a flicker in his father's eyes—not triumph, but something deeper, unspoken.
Ford moved his queen with a graceful sweep. "Check," he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of more than just the game.
Victor's gaze returned to the board, his mind racing for an escape. But there was none. The reality settled over him like a cold realization. With a final, inevitable move, Ford's queen slid into place.
"Checkmate," Ford whispered. He leaned back, his eyes lingering on the board before meeting Victor's. "Sorry, son."
Victor's muscles tensed. He assumed his father was apologizing for the game. He had lost to his father again, as he often did. He was ready to dismiss the loss with a light laugh as he used to in the past, but something about Ford's expression held him back. His father's eyes, typically guarded and unreadable, now revealed a rare glimpse of vulnerability—an openness Victor wasn't accustomed to seeing.
Then Ford spoke again, his voice breaking the silence like a dam releasing years of pent-up emotion.
"I left you to struggle alone during your hardest time," Ford said, his voice heavy with regret. "After you lost your mother... I withdrew. I wasn't the father you needed."
Victor's eyes snapped up from the chessboard. He couldn't fully process what he was hearing. His father's face, always so stoic, now showed the grief of thirteen long years.
"I was lost too," Ford continued, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I didn't know how to help you, Victor. After what happened... after what Lissa Ajang did to you... I thought if I didn't care, if I stayed distant, it would force you to rise up quicker. I thought you'd get out of your mourning and suffering sooner. You were to be the man of the house, and I thought that was the only way to help us safeguard the legacy your mother worked so hard to build."
Victor froze, his body tense as Ford's words peeled away years of unresolved pain. His father's eyes, no longer hiding behind their usual reserve, were filled with sorrow.
"But how wrong I was," Ford said, a tear rolling down his slightly weathered cheek. "I hurt you, Victor. And I hurt myself. Forcing myself to watch from afar, even when all I wanted was to be there for you and your sister, to hold us all together through the pain."
Ford's voice cracked, the years of stoicism crumbling as his hands trembled. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his breath shaky, tears spilling freely now. "I'm so, so sorry..."
Victor sat there, paralyzed by the sight of his father breaking down in front of him. The man who had been a pillar of strength and silence was now openly vulnerable, his heart laid bare after all these years. Victor's own vision blurred as tears welled up in his eyes. His father's words had pierced through every layer of resentment that had been gathered over the years, and he felt the ache of that shared loss in his own chest.
Quiet tears began to fall down Victor's face, but he kept his breathing steady, trying to hold himself together. He didn't trust his voice to speak. Instead, he sat there, staring at the chessboard, unable to move, letting the storm of emotions wash over him.
Ford's breath came in ragged, unsteady bursts, the tears falling faster now. "Your mother... she would be so proud of the man you've become," he choked out. "But I'm the one who should have been there. Not from a distance, not as a shadow of a father, but right there with you... with Yaya."
Victor finally exhaled, his shoulders relaxing, his walls breaking. "Dad..." he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He wanted to say more, to tell him that he forgave him, that he understood now, but the words wouldn't come. So he did the only thing he could—he reached across the chessboard, gently placing his hand on his father's trembling hand.
Ford lowered his head, tears falling onto the chess pieces, the game forgotten. The silence between them was no longer heavy with unspoken words but filled with something else—something healing. Years of silence and misunderstanding had given way to raw, vulnerable truth.
"I didn't know," Victor finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I thought... I thought you didn't love me anymore." His words came out in broken fragments, years of buried hurt surging forward like a tidal wave. The walls he had built around his heart crumbled, and tears streamed down his face. For the first time in years, he allowed himself to be that lost, grieving young man again—the one forced to grow up too fast.
Ford squeezed his son's hand tighter, his grip trembling but steady. "I never stopped loving you," he said, his voice low and thick with emotion. "I just didn't know how to show it. I was afraid... afraid that if I got too close, we'd all fall apart."
Victor's body shook with silent sobs, the kind that had been locked away for years, waiting for a moment like this. He leaned forward, head bowed, and for a long moment, he couldn't speak. He didn't need to. The silence between them was filled with all that had been left unsaid for too long.
Ford shifted in his seat and did something he hadn't done since Victor was a child—he pulled his son into his arms. It was an awkward, hesitant embrace at first, both of them unsure how to fit together in this unfamiliar, vulnerable space. But as the seconds passed, the hesitation melted away, replaced by something more healing.
"I'm here now," Ford whispered, his voice cracking. "And I'm not going anywhere."
Victor clung to his father, his chest heaving with each breath. For years, he had longed for this closeness, this assurance that he wasn't alone in his grief or the heavy burden of carrying the family legacy. Now, in his father's arms, he felt the weight of his isolation lifting, piece by piece.
When Victor finally pulled back, his eyes were red and swollen, but there was a lightness in his chest that hadn't been there before. He wiped at his face, though stray tears continued to fall, quietly, as if reluctant to let go of the past.
The chessboard between them lay forgotten, the pieces scattered across the table like remnants of the silent battles they had fought within themselves. But none of that mattered now.
Ford's eyes still shimmered with tears that hadn't quite finished falling. But a smile now played on his lips—a smile of true joy he hadn't felt in over a decade. He looked at his son, and with a gentle hand, rested it on Victor's head. "Look at you. I don't think I've told you how proud I am of you, my son," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I've been watching you all these years, following every step. Always so proud of you." He sniffed and, with a shaky laugh, gave Victor a playful punch on the chest, his eyes and cheeks wet but glowing with pride.
Victor looked back at his father, feeling a fullness in his heart he hadn't known since his world crumbled after his mother's passing. A light, bittersweet chuckle escaped him as he took a deep, steadying breath.
They sat together in the quiet aftermath of their shared confession, no longer burdened by the distance that had separated them for so many years. There was still healing to be done, still wounds that would take time to mend, but for the first time, they faced them together.
As the sun dipped below the horizon outside, father and son remained, simply cherishing each other's presence in the quiet.
***
In the black Honda Accord cruising steadily along the Pan Borneo road, the initial quietness enveloped Victoria and Kaylee like a soft, unspoken agreement. There was no tension, just the kind of silence that settled between two people who understood they were both on the verge of something new.
Kaylee sensed Victoria's apprehension, a subtle current beneath her calm exterior. She let the silence linger, using the moment to offer a silent prayer: Lord, guide this journey. Give me wisdom to be the light of the world, to honor You in all we say and do.
Beside her, Victoria kept her eyes fixed on the road, but the nervous energy in her posture was evident in the way she gripped the steering wheel and the occasional shift in her seat. After a few beats, she cleared her throat, breaking the quiet like a hesitant diver dipping a toe into cold water. "So, I don't really have a plan," she admitted, her voice wavering slightly. "I've just been thinking a lot since Mother's memorial... about everything."
She glanced briefly at Kaylee, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes before her gaze returned to the road. The weight of unspoken thoughts hung between them.
Kaylee turned, her voice soft. "You don't need to explain everything right now. We've got time. Let's just enjoy the drive and see where it takes us."
Victoria offered a small, grateful nod. The hum of the engine and the steady rhythm of tires rolling over the pavement filled the space between them as they passed through winding hills and stretches of rural landscape. Slowly, the initial awkwardness dissolved, replaced by an unexpected sense of ease.
Leaning back, Kaylee let her gaze drift to the scenery. "You know," she said after a while, her tone lighter, "I used to think road trips were all about the destination. But maybe they're really about the in-between moments. The quiet. The conversations that happen when you're not really trying."
Victoria smirked, glancing sideways at Kaylee, and met her eyes.
And just like that, the tension was gone. They still had a long way to go, but as the road stretched ahead of them, both women felt something shift. They weren't just driving to the coast-they were driving toward a new beginning. Together.
Victoria reached for the audio player, her fingers absentmindedly scrolling through her brother's playlist. She was looking for something—anything light—to break the silence that had settled in the car. But her hand stilled when she saw the names on the screen.
"01 Genesis," "02 Exodus," "03 Leviticus..."
Her eyes flicked back to the road for a moment, then darted back to the screen, scrolling further. She half-expected to find some hidden folder with actual music, something familiar or fun. But no. The titles continued in perfect sequence, each book of the Bible, all the way to "66 Revelation".
Her body tensed as her mind scrambled to process what she was seeing.
Kaylee, sensing a change in Victoria's demeanor, grew curious. She had expected music to start playing but was instead met with a prolonged silence. Glancing over, she noticed Victoria's unreadable expression.
"Victoria?" Kaylee asked cautiously, moving a little closer. "Everything okay?"
Victoria glanced at her briefly, then back at the road, her face hard to read.
Kaylee's heart skipped a beat. Something was definitely off. Just as she was about to say something—anything to cut through the silence—Victoria spoke.
"You've converted my brother thoroughly, haven't you?" Her eyes were still on the road. Her voice was calm, almost impressed. "I mean, a full Bible playlist? That's... something."
It took Kaylee a moment to process, her eyes flicking to the car's screen. She hadn't known Victor had the entire audio Bible saved in his car—only that.
Unsure how to respond, Kaylee hesitated. While she was glad to see Victor deepening his faith, she didn't want Victoria to think she had pushed him into it.
Victoria, noticing Kaylee's pause, let out a soft chuckle. "I'm not criticizing," she clarified. "It's just... I didn't expect this. He hasn't been near anything faith-related since Mother passed over thirteen years ago."
Kaylee relaxed a little. Victoria's tone wasn't accusatory—it was more of a resigned surprise.
"I guess," Victoria continued, her voice softer now, "what I'm trying to say is... you remind me of her. My mother. Like you're continuing something she left behind."
The honor of being compared to Aunty Long filled Kaylee with humility. Before she could respond, Victoria added something unexpected.
"In that case, you probably won't like me much... if you really knew me."
Kaylee caught the hint of self-condemnation in her tone, the deep loneliness hidden beneath calm words.
"You haven't given me the chance to know the real you," Kaylee replied gently, turning toward her. "The full you."
Victoria cast a quick glance at her, surprised by the sincerity in Kaylee's eyes. It struck her—how familiar those eyes felt, echoing a kind of unconditional love she hadn't seen since her mother.
After a moment of internal struggle, Victoria sighed. "Well... for a start," she began, her voice soft as her fingers drummed lightly against the steering wheel.
Kaylee stayed quiet, sensing this was a significant moment, one Victoria had been building up to. She leaned slightly forward, giving her full attention.
Victoria took a deep breath, her eyes fixed on the road ahead, though Kaylee could see the conflict in them. "I've known for a long time that I'm... not exactly the daughter my mother imagined. She was incredible—so full of faith, so sure of everything. But me... I could never be like her."
A long pause stretched between them, heavy and fragile. Victoria's voice dropped to a near whisper, as if the words were a secret too difficult to say aloud. "The truth is... I've always been attracted to women. I've tried to ignore it, to bury it, but... that's who I am. I'm a lesbian, Kaylee."
She risked a quick glance at Kaylee, her eyes darting over, searching for any flicker of reaction, any sign of what this confession might unleash.
Kaylee had learned this about Victoria through Joyce earlier, but hearing it directly from Victoria—this soon, this raw—was something else entirely. She kept her expression steady, her features soft and filled with warmth. There was no flinch, no trace of judgment. She met Victoria's gaze with compassion, even as a knot of emotion tightened in her stomach—not from disapproval, but from the sheer weight of the moment. The air between them felt heavier, laden with vulnerability.
Victoria, perhaps surprised by Kaylee's lack of harsh reaction, let out a small breath of relief. "I've never said this to anyone in my family," she admitted, her voice quieter now. "It's something I've kept to myself because... I knew no one would want to hear it. Especially not my mother. And now, with my brother being this... pillar of faith, and you, this beacon of everything I'm not..." She paused, swallowing hard. "I feel like I couldn't be further from the two of you."
Kaylee's heart raced as she absorbed Victoria's words. The rawness of her confession struck deep, but she trod carefully, sensing how fragile this moment was. "Victoria," she began, choosing each word slowly, "I don't think less of you because of this. It doesn't change how much I want to care about you. I believe God's love is bigger than we can fully understand. And I'm just here to love you as best as I can, in the way I believe He loves all of us."
Victoria swallowed hard, clearly didn't expect a person deep in faith like Kaylee would respond this way. The silence that followed felt weighty but not uncomfortable. After a moment, Kaylee gently asked, "Have you ever thought about why that is? Why you're not attracted to men?"
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