𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 ✓

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M A H I R

They say that you'll never truly understand something until it happens to you.

I honestly never paid much attention to this saying until things happening in my own life started weighing and opening my eyes to how everything I was once told about this peculiar mystery called life started unfolded before my eyes and manifesting in my life.

Love, a small word but a very powerful emotion. It gives you strength for any battle but sometimes its more than that.

As I watch my wife waving at me through the window, I wondered what could have happened in my life if I had stayed in Spain and decided not to come back.

I never believed in fate neither in destiny because these things sounds better in movies and dramas. Real life is not a fairytales but a hardship, a stage where you'll be tested by the god until you make it alive.

I guess, I did. I made it alive after everything that had happened but still I don't believe in fate.

Bella is my fate, my destiny—all of my dreams.

And do I want to change that? Absolutely no.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when someone cleared their throat. Frowning, I looked to the side and found a boy standing next to me, folding his arms. He looks like he's eight or something.

"You have been staring at her, is she your wife?"

His question caught me by surprise and I blink twice making sure I heard him right. Clearing my throat, I turned to him keeping my stoic face. "Yes, she is." I said.

He tilted his head and pushed down his sunglasses, "She is pretty."

I gaped at him in shock as he leaned against my car, copying my action. He even dressed like me and if someone sees us together they might mistook us for father and son.

I scoffed. "Listen, kid. She's my wife. Go find yourself another."

"Oh, please I already have a girlfriend. Besides I'm not into older woman."

"What? Hold on—How old are you?"

"Nine. You?"

"Thirty-one." I said with a smirk.

"That's why you look old." He said in a bored tone and I stopped the urge to smack his head. Why the hell he reminds me of my stupid ex-bestfriend.

"Fucking hell," I muttered and shot him a glare.

"Swearing is bad. Didn't your Mommy teach you?" He raised a brow looking unimpressed.

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, that's it. Where's your mother?"

"I think I lost her." He said nonchalantly and I grumbled under my breath. Fucking kids.

I glanced up at my watch and then look at my wife from across the road. Everything seems to be going well and I don't sense any danger. I shifted my eyes back at the nine year old brat and groaned loudly.