Chapter 3: Crossroads

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As I approached the source of the laughter, my heart fluttered with anticipation. There, amidst the bustling street, I spotted my dad, his familiar grin spreading across his face as he strolled with purpose, pushing a sleek stroller adorned with colorful toys. And nestled within its cozy confines was Maya, my little bundle of joy, her cherubic face illuminated by a radiant smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts.

Drawing nearer, I couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth envelop me, a sense of familiarity and comfort washing over me like a gentle tide. My dad's eyes sparkled with mischief as he caught sight of me, his steps faltering for a moment before he resumed his confident stride, his free hand reaching out to beckon me closer.

With each step, the sound of Maya's infectious laughter grew louder, a melodious symphony that echoed through the bustling street, drawing curious glances from passersby and filling me with an indescribable sense of joy. And as I finally reached their side, my heart swelled with love and pride as I beheld the sight before me.

"Hey, Dad," I greeted, a smile playing at the corners of my lips as I leaned in to plant a tender kiss on Maya's rosy cheek. "And hello, my little sunshine," I cooed, my voice soft and melodic as I reached out to stroke her silky locks, eliciting a delighted giggle from her angelic lips.

Oh, right," he chuckled, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "Maya insisted on giving you this. She was clutching it tightly in her little hands all the way from home."

A soft smile tugged at my lips as I accepted the box full of my fruit salad. "Thank you, Dad," I beamed.

Inside the box lay a delicious assortment of fresh fruit salad, its vibrant colors and tantalizing aromas filling the air with a mouthwatering scent.

Despite Maya coming into my life unexpectedly, I've never once regretted having her. From the moment I first laid eyes on her three years ago, I made a vow to always protect and cherish her.

Navigating motherhood as a single parent hasn't been easy, especially considering her father has been absent from the picture since day one. Being only 17, almost 18 at the time, certainly didn't make things any simpler. But despite the challenges and uncertainties that came with it, I knew that Maya was a blessing in disguise—a beacon of light in my life, guiding me through even the darkest of days.

As Maya grew, so did our bond. People often remarked on how she resembled me, her giggles and mannerisms mirroring mine. With my youthful appearance, many mistook us for sisters until I revealed she was my daughter, often prompting surprised reactions when they learned my age.

But Maya was more than just my child; she was my constant companion, bringing joy and laughter into every moment we shared. Even now, as she wriggled in my arms, I couldn't help but marvel at her, grateful for every precious moment together.

Her call, almost a scream, snapped me out of my daydreaming. "MAMAAAA!" she cried, her eyes welling up with crocodile tears.

"I'm sorry, baby, I'm right here." I enveloped her in a tight hug, trying to soothe her. Seeing her cry tugged at my heartstrings like nothing else—it hurt more than any physical pain.

"It seems like she missed you so much, angel," Dad chimed in, gently patting Maya's back in an attempt to help comfort her.

After a few moments, she calmed down, basking in our attention.

"I missed her just as much. From now on, I won't let this happen again. I need to spend more time with her," I said, feeling a pang of sadness.

"Of course, angel. Now that you have more free time, the employees can handle more things on their own. They're getting the hang of it," Dad reassured me.

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