When we decided to go, the sun had already started to leave. Orange and red painted the sky. A little dust of stars can already be seen if you squint your eyes enough.

Walking in the garden, I saw that everything was still as beautiful as the first time I saw it. George might have been taking care of the garden like he did the first time I saw him here.

"The kids from downtown, me and uncle George came here occasionally to clean the place up. After all, a beautiful place like this deserves to be taken great care of," I heard Owen say as he walked in with me.

I turned to him with a light smile, "Do you also think that it's beautiful, Owen?"

He nodded with a soft smile gracing his lips. His eyes seem to twinkle each time he genuinely smiles. "As beautiful as the one who built it."

I merely nodded while straining a smile on my lips. I don't have an argument on that one. It was true. Even Owen knew of Elaine's beauty. It was only I, who was blind enough not to see it when I was given the chance to.

I was blind enough not to push my pride away to settle things with her when I still can. Again, the guilt was double-tripping me to the point that I was consumed by questions of what if. Consumed by guilt and hate I had for myself. The hate that continues to grow every single day since she left the world.

Without many words, Owen began walking ahead of me. "The prettiest part of the garden is at the heart of it. Come and see it with me," he stated as he walked, turning back occasionally to see me with a soft smile on his face.

I followed him, walking on the unswept dried leaves and dirt and twigs.

When he suddenly stopped, I took a gaze at my surroundings and gasped at the beauty that fell before my eyes.

Yellow flowers surrounded us in the bushes. A tall and sturdy tree, providing shade over us stood tall at the side. A pond was in the middle of it all. A bench was placed near the pond, left there for us to sit and view the beauty.

I've never ventured this deep into Bloomsdale before. It's all beautiful.

Just as she is.

Smiling, Owen grabbed my wrist lightly and led me to the bench. We both sat in comfortable silence, admiring our surroundings.

The time seemed to move fast, it wasn't long before a chilly air brushed past my skin and I turned to my side, looking down at Owen.

I was grateful for his presence. I was grateful he was still here.

Clearing my throat, I knew I had to move on and shook myself back to reality. I knew that I had to stop thinking of 'what if' and focus on the future. I had to focus on what I have now.

Slowly, awkwardly, I cleared my throat again, resulting in Owen lifting his head up with his brow raised at me.

Sighing, I looked away. "Owen. What would you say if I asked you to be my son?"

There was no sound coming from him. No sudden movement either. Then I heard a tiny sniff coming from him.

"Do you actually want me as your son?" He asked after a long moment of silence and I turned to look at him again, nodding my head to confirm it to him.

"Yes. I would love to have you as my son," I said. A genuine smile formed on my lips. I was smiling as I looked at him, watching and waiting for his reply.

Slowly, he nods his head and agrees to have me adopt him.

I asked George to inform Jo about my wish when we reached home, or what was left of Eline other than the garden. Hearing the news, Jo was overjoyed. She rang me immediately the very same night.

"Have you thought this through, Henry?" Her voice was cheerful and bright on the other side. I can hear the voices of the other children in the background. I'm sure it's louder on her side because she excused herself and yelled, "'For the love of god! You children better be quiet or else I'm not cooking you supper!"

The volume of the room died down. "Thank you," she said. Though she might sound mean to other people, the warm atmosphere from the phone says otherwise. I almost chuckle hearing it all happened.

"I'm still here, Jo," I reminded her.

"Oh, Henry. Do forgive me. I don't know what's gotten into them," she started before continuing, drifting back to the topic, "I was a bit worried. Taking care of a kid is a lot of work, Henry. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I'll try my best to be a good father for him, Jo." Slowly, I made my way onto a chair in the living room, sitting down in front of the fire pit. "I'm certain that I want him as my son."

She was silent. I don't need to see her to know that she was deep in thought from my answer. After a while, she cheered, happily grateful. "You better take good care of the boy, Henry. If you hurt him, I swear—"

"That won't be necessary," I laughed. "I won't hurt him. You can trust me."

The night ends well. Jo said that she will tell George to send a form over to me tomorrow and after that Owen will rightfully be my son, by law.

I feel like I'm doing this right. Living. I'm living right this time.

Never again would I hide myself from everyone, buried myself with the workload just to climb up another stair in wealth. I found now what I truly think would matter most. I want to be around the people that would bring me warmth and happiness.

I already have enough money to last generations anyways.

Although it was late, thanks to a certain blonde, who will forever have my heart, I'm now trying to live a different way. For she was gone but never forgotten and will forever be remembered.