Ariana and Patrick both paused for a moment. Their eyes sparkled, and they quickly moved toward the door. Patrick opened it and saw Charles—his old friend, his companion through both sweet and bitter days.
Charles stood there in elegant attire: a blue coat with fine white stripes, his face younger and more vibrant than ever, his black hair neatly combed, and a wide smile on his lips.
Patrick shouted warmly and joyfully:
"Charles! My best friend, my brother! Welcome to our home!"
The two fell into each other's arms, the warmth of a long friendship flowing between them. With his familiar smile, Charles said:
"I hope I'm not intruding. I thought, what better than to share the joy of the new arrival with you?"
Ariana, with a sincere smile, placed her hands gently on her stomach and stepped forward:
"I'm so happy you came, Charles. Your presence truly gives us strength. Please, come inside."
Patrick added with a friendly gesture:
"Don't feel like a guest. Treat this place as your own home, my friend!"
Charles entered the cottage. The space was simple yet comforting. There was nothing luxurious inside. Only the light of half-burnt candles illuminated the room, and the scent of warm wax filled the air. A small kitchen stood in the corner, with an old stove and a few copper pots hanging on the wall. In the center stood a wooden table and polished chairs, plain but sturdy.
Patrick, a little embarrassed by the simplicity of his home, ran a hand through his hair and said:
"I know this humble cottage isn't worthy of you, Charles… I couldn't manage proper hospitality."
Sitting down on one of the chairs, Charles replied warmly, his eyes filled with genuine contentment:
"Don't say that, Patrick… A home filled with love and kindness is worth more than a thousand golden palaces."
Patrick smiled—an easy, confident smile.
"This was always my dream: a simple house in the countryside, far from the noise… living beside my wife and children. After I stepped down from teaching at the Academy, I poured everything I had into building this life."
Charles locked eyes with Patrick. He paused for a moment, as though traveling back into their shared memories. Their friendship stretched back to when Charles first entered boarding school—when everyone mocked and beat him. Patrick was the one who always stood by his side. Together, they learned they had only each other, and together they grew stronger.
Then Charles, with a warm tone and soft voice, said:
"Patrick… I've always been proud of you. You were brave enough to choose something most people only talk about. You built freedom… you built love that's real. That's why I'll always admire you."
Hearing the sweetness in his words, Ariana brought two steaming cups of tea to the table. Her smile was heartfelt:
"Thank you, Charles… Your words are so encouraging. You're truly a precious friend to us."
Charles, his eyes bright and his voice playful, lightened the mood:
"So tell me… what do you want to name the little one?"
Ariana and Patrick glanced at each other. A smile passed between them, like an old secret code.
With one voice, they said:
"If it's a boy, we'll name him Henry… and if it's a girl, Misha."
Charles laughed and said:
"Beautiful names… May whichever you choose bring blessings, love, and a great destiny."
A gentle breeze stirred the curtains. A candle flickered. A short but deep silence filled the room. A magical moment seemed to bloom in the heart of a village morning.
Patrick gazed tenderly at his wife. Their hands were entwined, the warmth of their fingers like a promise of peace. Together, they turned their eyes toward Charles, and within those eyes lay a story—words waiting to be spoken.
Charles sensed their look and smiled. He sipped his hot tea slowly, as though giving them space and time to prepare.
After a brief silence, Patrick began, his voice soft and his smile faint:
"Charles… I've known you for so many years. You stood by me in the hardest times of my life—not just for me, but for Ariana too. We truly appreciate everything you've done for us. That's why I want to ask you for a favor."
Charles gently set the tea tray on the table, his gaze kind and steady:
"Of course, Patrick. Anything within my power, I'll do."
Ariana, with a gentle smile, reached for Patrick's hand and said softly:
"We'd like you to be the godfather of our child, because we trust you and know you'll always be there—guiding and supporting them."
Charles's eyes widened, his heart racing. A wave of warmth and joy rushed through him, but at the same time, a faint fear and doubt grew in his chest. Could he truly be good enough to shoulder such a great responsibility?
They waited in silence as Charles sank into thought. Then, with a voice hesitant yet full of respect, he said:
"This responsibility means so much to me… Thank you for trusting me this deeply. I'm not perfect, but I'll do my best to be worthy. So I accept—with honor."
Patrick and Ariana smiled broadly, their warmth filling the room. Together, they said:
"Thank you so much, Charles."
The hours slipped by in peace. Their talk and shared memories turned into a small celebration. Eventually, Charles prepared to leave. As he stepped toward the door, he said with a quiet chuckle:
"Leaving here is hard, but with all the work waiting for me at the Academy, I must. I promise I'll return soon to see the baby. Goodbye for now."
Patrick and Ariana waved, smiling warmly. Charles walked slowly down the dirt road. A light rain began to fall, droplets dancing on his hat as he disappeared into the village night.
When they closed the door, loving glances passed between Patrick and Ariana. They shared a gentle kiss, and with hearts full of hope and love, they stepped back inside their home.