Chapter Twenty Two

* * * *

"The truth is he spends thirty minutes of every hour suspecting he has missed some essential clue about himself. And not only himself- he has a recurring fantasy that one night, while he was asleep, the entire world was transformed into an alien planet, but no one bothered to tell him, and he didn't have the instinct to figure it out, and here he is now on a wild new Earth, walking around like an imbecile, as if everything he knows hasn't fallen away behind him like a river plummeting over a precipice."

- Kevin Brockmeier, A Few Seconds of Radiant Filmstrip: A Memoir of Seventh Grade

* * * * *

* One year later *

2017

* * *

"Just stop, Nandini, for God's sake, just stop," Venkatesh Murthy yelled out loud.

A yell that had shaken everyone present in the living room of Murthy's house. It was late in the evening and the members of the Murthy family along with Cabir were just sitting in the living room together as per Nandini's request. At first, the elder two Murthys had not known the reason why Cabir had stayed back after dinner, they hadn't thought much of it because from the past two years, ever since Manik's disappearance, the young man had been always found around Nandini, planning on to go to a new place for their never-ending search for Manik.

Venkatesh and his wife, Shanno, both had time to time asked Cabir to stop encouraging Nandini's obsession of finding Manik and had told him that it was time for both him and Nandini to get over the loss and get on with their lives, they had even warned him to stay away from their niece, but alas, Cabir had refused to do so and had accompanied Nandini everywhere she went to search, and for that, they had been so grateful that after a certain point, they had stopped minding his presence around Nandini and them. They had tried to tame their irritation with the thought of her not being on her own, at least she hadn't been roaming around the country alone, at least she had Cabir with her, they had tried to console each other, soothing each other's worry.

But no more...

Now only a week after her graduation, with Cabir and Rishab sitting at her each side, Nandini was telling them that she had been waiting for her degree from S.P.A.C.E, and now that she had it, she was, from then on, going on her search to find Manik full-time and had no intention of continuing her studies. In fact, she had told them that she had decided to start her working career with a music company that was hunting talent all over India which gave her the perfect opportunity to search for Manik without extra expenses. 

It was a perfect plan in Nandini's eyes, but apparently not approved by her elders...

Venkatesh couldn't help but get angry at his niece. He, along with his wife had thought that finally out of her college, Nandini would become a responsible adult and let go of her search for Manik that she had been on since the day he went missing. Two whole years, they had been understanding and had let the girl grieve in her own way, and had been so sure that the day she would get out of that damn college where she had met him, she herself will snap out of her madness, but it didn't seem the case...

"You are driven by the insanity of the loss to such extent that you aren't realizing that you are ruining your life, Nandini. Can't you even, for once, think of the possibility of him being dead? Because he is. Manik is dead, Nandini," Venkatesh yelled at her.

He didn't know why he still had to state that fact. With all that she had done in the past two years, after countless failed attempts, countless cities she and Cabir had wandered in search for Manik but came back empty-handed, how could she be still blind to the fact?

"Nandini, I know your Chacha sounds harsh to you, but beta, that's the truth. Malhotra's themselves had stopped searching for him after six months, and last year, even the case got closed by police. He isn't coming back nor you are going to find him, no matter how much you try. It's time to give up, and it's the right time to move on," Chachi tried, in more sensible words, to tell the reality their niece was refusing to accept.

As the discussion between them went on, standing a few meters away from the Murthys, with his arms warped around his chest, Cabir felt defeated, because he knew the adults were right. Cabir himself was getting tired, so tired of this endless routine that he and Nandini had been carrying for the past two years since the night that Manik had disappeared.

Yes, there was a part of him that wanted to keep going along with Nandini, to keep attempting to find Manik until they found him, but he was getting tired of the failed attempts they had been facing since the start.

Manik was nowhere to be found. He was gone. Possibly buried somewhere in that deep forest around Pune's old highway where the truck driver who had hit his car must have buried him in a hurry. And When he closed his eyes, Cabir could see the truck driver dragging Manik's broken and bloody body out of the car to bury him somewhere in the forest and run away after removing every shred of evidence. Just like the cynic sub-inspector Singh had told them when they closed the case.

Yes, back then he had punched the sub-inspector Singh who had insensitively gone into a detailed imagined scenario of what could have happened that night; how Manik could have been dead on the spot or maybe could have been still alive and bleeding when the truck driver would have buried him somewhere deep in the forest. 'Possibilities,' the sub-inspector Singh had muttered just before getting punched by Cabir.

But now he couldn't stop thinking about what the sub-inspector Singh had said. And the more he thought about it, the more he got convinced that that must have been the case, that's what actually could have happened that night. Countless nights he had stayed awake by the very same thought until he was driven to madness with the urge to go to the Pune forest near the old highway and dig the entire surface until he was sure, that no, no, Manik wasn't buried there. To do that just so he could believe that Manik was alive with the same firmness and unshakable belief that Nandini had from the past two years.

"No, I can't. I can't..." Nandini whispered, snapping him from his dark thoughts.

"I may never find him, and I can live with that as a possibility. But even the very thought of him not existing anymore while I do, that's not a possibility. I stop functioning in a proper way just with the thought that... I will not die... I know, humans don't die after their loved ones, but considering that even as a possibility will make me stop living," she continued, her voice shaking yet firm.

"The day I start believing that he is dead, will be the day I will die too," she whispered.

* * *

"Why didn't you pursue music? I thought you loved music? Then why business management?" Dr Shah asked.

"I fell out of love," he said with dead eyes yet a half-smile

His love for music felt like a love of another lifetime; the years of his life he had spent loving music more than anything else. Now Manik couldn't believe there had been a time in his life when he had thought that music was a blessing because it was nothing but a curse now. Those music notes and tunes that once had been close to him more than his heartbeats now were nothing but a maddening noise that reminded him of a deep wound that refused to heal. The music that had been soothing for his old self would now make his ears bleed and his head explode.

He could no longer enjoy even a note of the music that back then he had known and felt as if they were part of his soul...

For years, music had defined his existence, his every waking moment had been spent creating and shaping the dreams he had about it in his sleep. Music had been his solace, his safe place, his everything...

But no more, not any longer. That night had changed so many things for him, he had lost so much. And his music had been just one of them.

And now it felt as if he never had any of them to begin with...

'He is pretending. Going by the 'fake it until you make it' rotate, aren't we?' Dr Shah thought with a sigh as he looked at the young man sitting in front of him.

"Manik, I think we are making progress," he said in a forced cheerful voice.

"You are studying in university, living on your own in the dorm and you even started working with your friend Devansh as a trainee from the past month, isn't it? With time everything is falling in its place, don't you think? Right now, I am happy that you are moving on." Dr Shah said with an encouraging smile on his face as he looked at Manik whose face was devoid of any expression.

But suddenly, with a sigh, the mask of indifference fell from Manik's face and now it was painted by grave anguish as he closed his eyes for a few seconds before opening them to gaze down at his hands and nodded without convection.

'Not progress. Now he just knows better than voicing his thoughts, knows how to pretend,' Dr Shah thought.

As Dr Shah looked down on the desk between them, he noticed that Manik's right hand was still wrapped in a white bandage. He wasn't sure how the wound on his hand never healed. Ever since he had met Manik, a year and a half ago, not once he has seen his right-hand badgeless. It seemed to be always wrapped into a white rag, an indication of the young man's reckless and impulsive nature.

"I am indeed doing all of that, but I won't call it moving on, Dr Shah. It's just suddenly I have no energy left in me to grieve for her or fight for her," Manik whispered tiredly, as he had been carrying a heavyweight he couldn't continue to carry anymore.

And when Dr Shah looked at him closely, he could see that Manik was telling the truth; he looked tired and looked years older than he should. With his hair a mess, black circles around his red eyes, and a permanent frown on his forehead, he didn't look like the same young man who could burn his targets with the fire in his eyes when he glared down at them.

His defeated aura and empty eyes were of someone else, or better yet, it seemed like the one who had glared at him when they had first met, a year and a half ago, was not the one sitting in front of him now.

"You still think she is real?" Dr Shah asked, confused and curious.

"When you say she is just my imagination, a part of me believes you, because she has been too good, too perfect to be a reality, to be my reality. When you say she is a creation of my mind, a part of me believes you, because she is my needs and desires personified." Manik said in a voice that sounded weak and tired, before with a sigh, he stopped and looked up at the psychiatrist.

"But she is real, as much as you and others want her not to be, she is real for me. If she wasn't, I would not be feeling what I feel. The hurt, the pain, the feeling of loss are too much for her to be just my imagination." He whispered, before sighing and shaking his head, knowing whatever he may say, no one would understand what he was talking about.

How could he tell them anything? How could he make them understand that he was being deprived of something so precious that stealing him of his heartbeats and his every breath would have been a better option? How could he tell them that no matter how much time passes by, he could not deal with the reality that others wanted him to accept? Because that meant that he hadn't lost her, no, it meant something far worse; it meant she hadn't there to lose to begin with...

How could he tell them that they may be right; that even though he may not fully remember the past few years of his life, that even though he may have lost parts of himself, but she remained there, untouched...

How could he make them understand that she hadn't gone away, she didn't, she never would. She would always be present in everything he was surrounded by, just not personified as he wanted her to be...

That at this point, her being the specter of fantasies or reality didn't matter much because he would always be haunted by her...

How could he make them understand that at times he felt as if he couldn't breathe, as if suddenly there was no oxygen left in the air even though to others he was breathing just fine? How could he ever find the words to explain that what he has lost was not just a girl and himself, but everything...

He could not...

So he has stopped trying...

* * *

* Four years later *

2020

* * *

Devansh sighed contently as he put down his empty cup of coffee on the table in front of him and looked up at Manik who was giving his presentation to him and the rest of the team. It had been two years to the day the younger man had started working as a trainee in his company at his suggestion. At first, Devansh had done it to force Manik out of the Malhotra penthouse where he had been caged in. It had been an attempt to give him the much-needed liberation from the financial dependency and an effort to keep him away from the loneliness Mr Malhotra had forced upon him as the older man himself seemed too busy to give a thought to the son he had almost lost.

'That old bas**ard,' Devansh muttered to himself.

He still didn't know what it was, but there had been something about Mr Malhotra that had made him turn into a mother hen and keep Manik away from the older man even though a third party like him wasn't supposed to protect a kid from his parent. But he still felt strangely protective over the vulnerable man-child that Manik has become ever since they came back from India.

He had been so glad when Manik had accepted his offer and had joined his company, back then Devansh had not been sure of Manik's potential, or if he had any, and he had been pleasantly surprised when just after a few weeks, Manik had started to show his true potential and had become a part of his Management team just within a few months. And from then on, there was no looking back, and Devansh had felt proud of the transformation he had seen in front of his eyes as slowly Manik started to become more independent, left his father's penthouse in the high tower for a small room of the university dorm and had started to take his studies seriously.

Now just a few weeks before his graduation, confident and savvy, Manik seemed like he knew what he was doing, or at least when it comes to his career. Devansh had to give it to him; Manik was very professional, very good at hiding his weakness and the inner war that he had been fighting till date.

"Okay, if no one has anything to add, we shall end this meeting here. Enjoy your evening, people," Devansh concluded before smiling at everyone present and walking out of the meeting room. And just when he was about to step into his office, he was stopped by Manik.

"I want to talk to you," Manik muttered, somewhat awkward.

"Sure. Come in," he said with a smile and walked into his office.

He moved to sit on the sofa after removing his coat and gestured for Manik to sit down. Knowing Manik needed time, he started to talk about the deal they were working on but soon found that the younger man seemed lost somewhere else. With a frown on his forehead and his gaze fixed on the glass of the table between them, Manik looked stressed and troubled.

'What could have happened?' Devansh asked himself as he continued to observe Manik.

Manik was sitting there in front of him in complete silence as if he was rethinking something, or accumulating strength to do something, or was about to say something that was taking a lot of effort from him, Devansh couldn't decide which was the case, but he felt it had something to do with Nandini, the imaginary girl Manik still hasn't moved on from even though he no longer talked about her.

Over the past three years ever since Devansh met him, he couldn't understand Manik even though he was the only one the younger man had chose as his confidant. He hadn't known Manik before and therefore couldn't tell how much he has changed after the accident but the silent sadness and the calm indifference that were now part of Manik's personality weren't part of the Manik he had met before their trip to India.

Mr Malhotra and Dr Shah - Manik's physiatrist - thought that the trip to India three years ago had done Manik good but he personally was unsure. The broken and devastated Manik that he had now before him was better or worse than the self-destructive Manik of three years ago, he couldn't tell...

It was as if either way, Manik Malhotra was meant to be broken and destroyed, the choice was only between if it happened to him while chasing his beautiful mirage or giving up on it...

But Devansh could tell that Manik had done neither, he was still stuck in a limbo where he couldn't refuse nor accept the reality which had been forced upon him. Now as he observed Manik sitting before him, he could tell the younger man was disturbed because maybe he once again was facing the same dilemma of his.

To him, Manik looked conflicted. Sitting at the very edge of the comfortable sofa in a very uncomfortable way, he was bent over himself, panting, his hands shivering as he clenched and unclenched them into fists in an attempt to stop them from shaking, his body trembled slightly. Devansh saw Manik closing his eyes shut, let out a shaky breath before pulling out a bottle from the inside pocket of his jacket and slid it towards him with a slight push.

"What is this?" Devansh asked him with a frown as he took the bottle in his hands.

"Dr Shah gave it to me, he said it will help but..." Manik left the sentence unfinished with a shaky breath and shook his head side to side with a tortured expression on his face.

"But what?" Devansh asked, worried but Manik remained silent.

"How long have you been taking this medicine?" Devansh asked in an attempt to make him talk.

"Six months," Manik muttered in shame.

'Six months, six months is a very long time!' Devansh thought alarmed.

Knowing that Dr Shah had prescribed something like that to Manik and that he had been using it for six months, Devansh didn't know who he should be angry at. That old obnoxious and arrogant physiatrist was too full of himself to do anything right and Manik, of course, had misused the given medicine by not alerting that he was suffering from some kind of side effects. God knows what that medicine has done to Manik's brain, he thought to himself, seething in rage but felt deflated as soon as he saw Manik wiping away his silent tears with the back of his hands in a hasty manner as he couldn't stop them from flowing but refused to cry anymore.

"Manik, what happened?" He quietly asked, knowing there was much more to it. That he had come to him because he wanted someone to talk to and as predicted, the concern in his voice broke the barrier the young man had built around him.

"I have been hallucinating, I see her every time I take it," he whispered as he indicated the bottle in Devansh's hands as if it was something he feared.

"Shouldn't that be a reason why you would want to take more of it?" Devansh asked calmly after a long pause.

Even though he was glad, he couldn't help but be curious to know why Manik was taking the opposite path and pushing away something that actually gave him access to the one he craved the most.

He has seen and witnessed the intensity of Manik's yearning, his obsession with his Nandini and was surprised that Manik was ready to let go of the only opportunity he had to see her.

"She isn't her, she isn't my Nandini. Because if I keep taking it that would mean I have accepted that my Nandini isn't real, that would mean I accept that she doesn't exist," Manik whispered in a broken voice.

He didn't know how could he tell anyone else what he had been going through, even to Devansh who with years has become the elder brother he never had but always wanted. The truth was that for the past two and a half years, he had been using a variety of the medicines prescribed by Dr Shah, be it antidepressant, sleeping pills, or something to control his anxiety and panic attacks and he had been dealing with different side effects but this one particular medicine prescribed six months ago has messed up his mind as nothing else had...

It was worse than his nightmares because suddenly he was living them with open eyes. She was there, right in front of him, with the same beauty and innocence, but her sweet voice would slowly deform into the poisonous one as she cruelly muttered the same words Dr Shah had been saying over the years about her being only an illusion his depraved mind had created to satisfy his craving for affection he couldn't have had from his parents and friends. And different from his nightmares, he had no escape from these hallucinations because he would be wide awake, living them till the effect of the medicine lingered on...

He had taken six months to come up with the courage to get rid of the medicine that gave him access to Nandini because he has finally accepted that it was too toxic and too unreal, too dangerous to continue to torture himself with...

"She isn't Nandini, she is an illusion that doesn't even resemble her so how can I substitute my Nandini with her?" He asked even though clearly had the answer.

After hearing him, Devansh couldn't do anything else than feel helpless. He moved to the other sofa and tucked Manik closer, giving him a shoulder to cry on as he slowly whispered how proud he was of Manik for overcoming the war that was going on within him and knowing better than to keep using the medicine - how glad he was that Manik came to him to talk about it. He made him promise that he would talk to his physiatrist about the side effects and told him to consider finding another one meanwhile...

He didn't know what else to do other than praying for the day to come soon, the day when Manik will be freed from the limbo he was stuck in and will finally move on from the mirage he couldn't help but chase...

* * * * *

It was no ordinary day for Mr Malhotra, in fact, it was one of its kind....

He had arrived a bit late, the grandiose hall had been already full of people, young, old, and of all ages and all genders gathered, clapping and cheering as names of students graduating were called out. Sitting in the front row in the huge hall, he had the perfect view of the stage, Madhav - his assistant - had made sure, after all,  it was the graduation of his only son. And when Manik's name had called out in a British accent, almost unrecognizable, Mr Malhotra had felt strangely emotional. He hadn't known what to do with the chest-thumping pride he suddenly felt when he had seen his son walk on the stage to receive his degree.

"That's my boy," Mr Malhotra had muttered arrogantly, a little moved as he clapped slowly.

And as every student made their way to their families, parents hugging them while crying in joy. Such a dramatic scene, it made him cringe and as he stood there alone, he didn't know what to do with himself. He realized that It was the very first time he was attending any function related to his son, excluding the first few lavish birthday parties Nyonika had thrown in the name of their son in his early years. He hadn't attended any after he had left for Pune, seeing it hadn't any use to him as he had wanted to get away from the business scene and had left Nyonika to keep up the appearance. But for sure not attending his birthday parties didn't count as something bad because, for the fact, he knew how much his son who had been just a few years old back then had hated those parties...

And anyway, past wasn't important, right now he still could become a vital part of his son's life, with that confident thought, he moved towards where Manik was standing and congratulated him. But he soon realized that he may be a little late to mend things between him and his son when he only received a polite nod in return. Angered, he stepped aside, thinking; why wasn't his son more agreeable to his attempts?

And just as he moved away, the Devansh guy - his personal assistant's younger brother - wrapped Manik in an unexpected bear hug making his son laugh and hug him back. At the sight, Mr Malhotra couldn't help but frown. Both younger men kept thumping each other's back with too much force as they laughed together, it was as if it was them who were family and he the outsider. It was a sight that only had increased his anger. 

Cutting in between, he suddenly asked his son if they could have lunch together, just the two of them, he clarified as he glared at the other guy.

And then a look was exchanged in between his son and Devansh, making him feel a violent rage which was only tamed down when he got a nod from his son and the other guy walked away with the promise of dinner and drinks at night.

And now as they sat in a posh restaurant not far away from Malhotra & Sons office, he knew he had only an hour to mollify his son, after all, after lunch an important board meeting awaits for him - the reason why he was in the city and was able to attend Manik's graduation in the first place.

"Do you like working with Devansh?" He asked after ordering.

"You are two years late at asking that question, Father," Manik answered with an ironic smirk.

"I meant to ask you before, but I had been busy," the older man winced before attempting to explain.

"Of course, Mr Malhotra," Manik said, easily accepting the excuse, way too used of the neglecting behavior from his both parents to be bothered.

"To answer your question, yes, I like working for Devansh. Management is fun," he replied with an indifferent tone in his voice before sipping water.

Management, of course, Mr Malhotra thought. He knew it would be something like that. After all, he knew what his son liked. His Manik seemed like someone who would prefer working in Management more than anything. No surprise there. It had to do with planning, organizing, leading, controlling, and motivating, and Manik Malhotra was damn good at everything that had to do with creating strategies and compiling resources to lead operations. He has always been good at it...

'My little solder is all grown up now,' Malhotra thought with a proud smile on his face.

"So, now that you are done with your studies, I want you to work in Malhotra industries," he ordered when they were done eating.

"I like what I am doing now, Mr Malhotra, and that's what I plan to continue doing," his son simply answered with no further explanation.

"But why would you want to work for Devansh when you have Malhotra industries?" Mr Malhotra asked, perplexed.

"And why would I want anything to do with you and your wife, Mr Malhotra?" his son asked, his eyebrow raised in that typical Manik Malhotra fashion.

"Why not? I am your father, Manik," the older man stated in confusion.

"Are you, Mr Malhotra? Are you really?" His son asked, his arms warped around his chest as he waited for the answer.

But before he could answer, he heard Manik sigh and continue;

"Actually, you know what? It doesn't matter. I am finally free from all these pretended social obligations, finally independent, financially and emotionally. I don't want these dilemmas anymore. I am twenty-three, too old to throw a tantrum for not having parents, a family. You and Nyonika, you both are incapable of being parents, and I am old enough to know better than expect you both to change,"

"You are Mr Malhotra, she is Nyonika and I am Manik, and we are not a family. And let's be okay with it, shall we?" He stated with ease before standing up from his seat.

"This was fun, let's meet up again the next time you remember my existence, even if it's after years. No pressure," Manik said with a smirk before walking away from the table.

As he saw his son leaving him behind, Mr Malhotra could nothing but sigh in frustration.

Why was this happening to him again? Yes, he may have been a little late in acknowledging it, but his son, Manik Santok Malhotra - named after his father - has been the biggest joy of his life. He knew he had not treated his son as such, has ignored him for the first two decades of his life, but why couldn't his son see that he was trying now? Why couldn't his son see the truth? And the truth was that his life before his son had been nothing but ordinary, and only after his son had been born that he had truly lived his life by building his whole empire for his heir. He had worked hard all his life, but harder after his son, his only heir, and would continue to do so until he couldn't do anything more.

And why was he so angry at him? For the past? It was true that back then he had just left his hard-earned reputation and money in the hands of his wife and some loyal employees because he was advised by his doctors to stop completely. Couldn't his son understand why he had left? He had been told to not take any stress when he had been in his early sixties and had suffered a heart attack. Knowing he needed to heal, he had decided to leave Malhotra Mansion, and leave his twelve-year-old son in the care of his mother to start his path to recovery. What was so wrong with that? And, yes, it was true that he had never looked back since then until Manik's accident. But he had been by Manik's side when he had needed him. It had been him who had given Manik the best medical care possible, why couldn't his son be grateful for all that he had done for him? All that he still was doing for him?

Why had his leaving made his son feel unloved when he had given in Manik's every demand, whatever money could buy, and whenever he had come to Pune to him, he had signed off any paper he came with as per Nyonika's demand. Wasn't that what parents did?

Why could Manik, who now was an adult, not see that him neglecting his son had been just one of the collateral damages of being a workaholic, building an empire, and marrying a cunning woman like Nyonika Malhotra?

And he had done both only for his son, working hard and marrying Nyonika. Didn't that count for something? He wouldn't have married her if it hadn't for the fact that she had been pregnant with Manik. 

Marriage had never been in his plans. Till his late thirties, he had thought he was too young and after that, he had been too busy to handle anything more than flings. And Nyonika had been just that, a young beauty who had captured his attention, whom he had mistaken for nothing more than a middle-class beauty with a tempting body, available for his amusement. It had been too late when he had realized that Nyonika was so much more. A cunning planner with a fascinating mind, that was what she was...

So at the age of fifty-two, he had married her, twenty-three, because of Manik. Only for his child, he went through such a scandalous marriage and still was, just for Manik. But all that didn't matter, did it? His son didn't think so. Why did it not matter to Manik that now he wanted to bond with his son and become a part of his life?

"What I am doing wrong?" He asked himself out loud.

Why? He could not understand, he had made sure to eliminate everything that could be a distraction and had isolated his son from everything and anyone who could be a threat to him, who could damage their bond. There was no one else but him in Manik's life now. Not Fab 5, certainly not Nyonika, and not even that Nandini girl...

Then why wasn't his son leaning on him? Why away from everything and everyone familiar to him, Manik wasn't clinging to him, his father, when that was exactly what he should be doing? Why wasn't he the one he would run to when in trouble? Why wasn't he any longer needed in his son's life?

"Bloody Devansh," Mr Malhotra suddenly spit out, after analyzing the situation.

Yes, that was it. Devansh Mathur. It was that bloody Devansh who has overtaken the place in his son's life he had emptied for himself.

'I have to break them apart,' Mr Malhotra thought in a fit of uncontrollable rage as he violently pushed whatever was in front of him down the table and creating huge chaos of shattering glasses.

He, powerless to his compulsion of breaking everything around him in his desire to possess them, was once again set on his quest to break apart something without knowing how he would repair what he kept breaking in his attempt of owning it...

* * * *

A/N:- I deeply apologize for the late update and hope that you guys are doing well and are still interested... :)

Here is the last chapter of the 'Past' and from the next chapter, we go back to the present...I hope you all liked it...Thank you for staying by my side until now and I hope you will continue with your support, encouragement, and patience until the end... :)

Thank you, for staying by my side and always showing so much patience and love to this story...Thank you for always being here! :)

Stay safe and I wish you all the luck and strength needed to survive these difficult times and come out stronger and better. Kepp taking care of yourselves... <3

Thank you! :)

* * *