Epilogue

Five Years Later...

It was a lovely winter morning in Buenos Aires. There was a chill in the air, but the dazzling sun warmed the atmosphere enough to make it pleasant for people to roam the city. The naked trees adorned the sidewalks of the gigantic Capital City; they had been stripped of their leaves by the whistling winter wind. The city was still fairly quiet, although the cocoon of silence was ruptured by the distant sound of squealing children coming from the nearby park, which was flanked by high spring trees of the broads and jacarandaes species. As he neared his destination, Patrick focused on the faint clicking of his shoes against the sidewalk, and gazed at the nearly deserted street. He loved taking long walks early in the morning, it allowed him to appreciate the urban beauty around him, not to mention how much he enjoyed the peaceful aura that seemed to wreathe the usually bustling Metropoli.

The Scottish man crossed the park gates immersed in his musings, still holding the almost empty cardboard cup which contained the dregs of his morning coffee. He tossed it in the first trash-bin he came across with, and continued his way until the nearest park bench. He carelessly plopped himself down onto the wooden bench, and retrieved an old copy of Jorge Luis Borges' 'Labyrinths' from his pocket. The book had belonged to his late mother, and although the binding was creased and the previously white pages had adopted a yellowish hue, it was still well kept.

He had always adored the myriad of intricate poems, short stories, and essays Borges had engendered, and he had been drawn to his peculiar style of writing since a young age; Borges' writing had often been called intellectual, and although it was true, it was also quite simple: the sentences were almost invariably classical in their symmetry, in their balance... His often mysterious and philosophical works enraptured him, and Patrick easily got lost in the marvellous worlds the brilliant Argentinean author had threaded with so much care and detail. Every word had been chosen with extreme care and detainment, successfully achieving that the reader momentarily forgot about reality and happily dived into the immense sea of his fictions.

He brushed his fingers against the front cover, tracing the outline of the title with them. How he loved these mornings... mornings that he pleasantly spent reading, enjoying the winter sun warming his skin.

"Mummy, Daddy, look at me!" a little girl of about six years old screamed, momentarily distracting Patrick from his book. The young girl had long, glossy Hazel hair, and her eyes were a bright shade of blue. Patrick smiled at the kid, for she had practically jumped onto one of the swings and was trying to get as high as her little legs allowed her. He observed a couple approaching the child, walking hand in hand and with a tranquil smile on their faces. They had another kid, perhaps a two or three year old, who was being carried by his father. They looked like a happy little family, and his thoughts momentarily drifted to the times when he had one. His children were older now, and his divorce hadn't been exactly friendly.

He had almost gotten back to his book, when the slender woman caught his attention- he knew that woman...

But it couldn't be...

Claire?!

The Scottish man felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of his one-night-lover, both because he hadn't expected to see her again, and also because she was noticeably pregnant. She was as radiant as she had been the last time he had seen her, only this time she seemed... happier.

"Daddy, push me! I want to touch the sky!" the little girl chimed from the swing, impatiently tapping the air with her foot. She looked very much like her mother, but her eyes... her eyes seemed familiar.

"That's your call, Niles," Claire nudged her husband, who huffed in feigned annoyance before handing her the toddler and walking towards the swings.

"So demanding, just like your mother," the man spoke while poking the child's side.

So this was the guy whose name she had screamed the night they were together... Now that he looked at him more attentively, he noticed the obvious resemblance between himself and her husband: same eyes, height, body type... The only noticeable difference between them was their hair. Patrick couldn't help but to envy the man; in a way he had fallen for the blonde woman, and after their night together he hadn't been able to stop thinking about her for a long time. He now realised she had been drawn to him due to the physical similarity to her husband, and the thought of this was somewhat depressing.

"Come on, Hazel, even I could push Amelia higher!" she teased.

"Babcock, if you think you can do it better than me, then by all means, be my guest and entertain her yourself."

So her surname was Babcock... She hadn't told him her last name when they got to know each other, neither had he, but it was nice knowing a bit more about her.

The blonde flashed a haughty smile and strode to the swing, where her clearly annoyed husband awaited. "Move aside, you grumpy old maid."

Amelia giggled at the nickname. By now she had learnt that her parents always used silly names just to bother each other, and she wanted to do so too!

"Come on, Butler Boy! Let mommy push me!"

"Amelia Brightmore! Only I can call your father Butler Boy," C.C. chastised her daughter, but the gentle smile on her face gave away that she wasn't angry at all.

"But mommy, I want to call daddy funny names too!" the girl whined, and pouted at her mother.

"Look at her! Look at that pout! She clearly is your daughter, Niles."

"I would never doubt it, not even for a second," Niles snaked his arms around his wife's waist, and planted a sweet kiss on her lips. Amelia grimaced at the display of affection happening before her, and walked away from her parents, grumbling about how unfunny it was that her parents had started kissing when she wanted her daddy to play with her. The girl walked to the sand box just in front of Patrick, who was mesmerised by the girl. There was something about the young child that had caught his attention, as though he should know something about her... She reminded him of his eldest daughter, Berenice; at the age of six she had the same hazel hair and the same eye colour, two traits she had inherited from him. How very curious...

"Amelia, come back here!" Niles bellowed, and beckoned for her to come to him. "Mummy is tired and she needs to rest."

"I don't wanna!" the child crossed her arms, and sat on the sand. she was frowning deeply, and judging by the signals, there was a tantrum building up.

Patrick saw from the corner of his eye how Claire began to waddle to the child, but her husband stopped her, and placed a kiss on her temple.

"You go back to the hotel, I'll stay with her for a while." Niles offered.

"Are you sure? I know you are tired too, and she should understand that-" the blonde was silenced when her husband kissed her once again, only this time on her lips.

"I'm sure, sweetheart. We promised her we'd come here, and she deserves it. She's been behaving like an angel lately," Niles' spoke in the soft tone he knew worked whenever C.C. was moody or tired. His wife released a long sigh, but in the end, she gave a soft nod and rose her free hand in defeat.

"Alright, I'll see you in a while then. Say goodbye to daddy, James," C.C. cooed to the little toddler, who waved a chubby hand at his father. The boy was the exact opposite of his sister: he was a carbon copy of his father, but he had his mother's eye and hair colour. Niles gave James a kiss on his forehead and then proceeded to rub C.C.'s growing belly.

"Who would have said we'd have twins, too?" he chuckled.

"Well, Fran was certainly proud of us, we made a 2x1 deal," the blonde retorted, stifling a laugh.

"I made a 2x1 deal when I married you and adopted Amelia."

Both Niles and C.C. stared at Amelia in adoration. The girl was undoubtedly beautiful, and both of them thanked every deity for such a wonderful daughter.

"And how's the deal going so far? Do we make you happy?"

"Deliriously," Niles answered, nose-kissing his wife.

The Scottish man -who had been eavesdropping on their conversation- raised a confused eyebrow. 2x1 deal? She already had a daughter when she married this guy? But how could it...

And it was as though understanding had slapped him in the face. He had been with Claire almost six years ago, roughly Amelia's age, and they hadn't used protection...

Bloody hell...

Oh bloody damned hell!

That's why the girl had seemed so familiar to him... she was his... she was their...

He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence, nor stop the blonde woman that was currently walking out of the park. He sat there, shell shocked, observing how Amelia played with her adoptive father. The man was so caring and gentle with the girl, and in his eyes Patrick could only see an unmeasurable love for the child.

"Daddy, could you help me build a sand castle?" Amelia asked Niles, who was busy tying Amelia's hair in a ponytail.

"Sure thing, Little One. Do you want me to build it for you while you gather some leaves to decorate it?"

"Of course, daddy! I'll be right back," the child chirped before starting her hunt for the perfect leaves.

Patrick felt the tears -both of anguish and joy- cascading down his cheeks. Poor Claire, he had left her pregnant, and she had had to raise a child alone... Well, it seemed not entirely alone. Part of him wanted to run after Claire, to ask her what had happened, if the girl was really who he thought she was, he wanted to talk to the girl... But part of him knew it wouldn't do the child any good. Clearly this man was taking care of her, and he had taken the role of her father.

"Excuse me, sir, may I have the leaf that's under your foot?" Amelia's voice asked, bringing Patrick out of his musings.

"Uh... sure..." he muttered and moved his foot away so the child could pick up the fallen leaf. My God, she had his eyes, and his same hazel hair!

"Sir, are you ok?" the child asked, and sat by his side.

"Y-yes, kiddo, I am alright," Patrick had to exercise all of his will power not to hug the little girl then and there.

"Why are you crying then?"

"Because I am happy. And sometimes that happens," Patrick said, his voice thick with emotion.

"How strange... that's never happened to me! Well, thank you for the leaf!" Amelia jumped to her feet, and shook the man's hand. The girl then looked between him and her adoptive father, and flashed a bright smile. "You know, you look a bit like my daddy, he is over there, building a sand castle for me."

And it was then when Patrick decided to show true fatherly love. He just smiled, and patted the girl's head. "I am sure your father is a wonderful man. Any father who builds a sand castle and makes you laugh is a great father."

"I know, he is the best! He is the one who convinced mommy to let me stay at the park for a little longer. Well, he always convinces mommy to let me do fun things. Anyway, I should go back now. Have a good day, sir!" Amelia waved goodbye at the man and turned in the direction of the sandbox.

The Scottish man observed the little girl trot back to her father, and chuckled when Niles caught her in a bone crushing hug. Patrick smiled contentedly to himself, she was in good hands... Even if he had just met her, he already loved her with all his heart, and the best for his child was to let her go. It wouldn't do any good to confuse her now, and apparently Claire didn't hide the fact that Amelia had been adopted by her husband... Perhaps, when she was older, she'd come to him. He chose to do the greatest act of love a father could do: he let her go in order for her to be happy. If she wanted him in her life, she'd come to him, but until then, he'd let her be happy with her family.

The Scottish man closed his book and slowly began walking out of the park. Just before he crossed the gates, however, he turned around and caught one last glimpse of his daughter.

"Good luck, dear Amelia. And thank you, Niles, for taking care of her."

And so he slowly walked away, thinking about the recent turn of events... Perhaps it had been fate what had brought them all to that park that morning, perhaps it had been just a coincidence...but either way, he was sure that some things were just meant to be.

THE END

AN: And there you have it! Hope you liked it :) Until the next story!