Chapter 860 Prodigal Wife
The Husla private airport tarmac shimmered under the relentless morning sun. Stepping off the private jet, Mia felt a wave of nausea roll through her stomach.
It wasn't just the heat. It was the throng of reporters camped outside, their cameras flashing like a demented strobe light.
News of their arrival had spread like wildfire, and a throng of reporters, their faces a hungry mix of concern and sensationalism, pressed against the security barriers.
"Vanessa! Mrs. Rosewood! Over here!" A cacophony of voices clamored for her attention.
Mia shrank back instinctively, her eyes darting from the blinding flashes to the eager faces holding microphones. She knew without a doubt that Henry had let word out about their arrival, hence they were there.
He had claimed he had suitable clothes for her to change into, yet had given her nothing. Here she was, still dressed in the sleeping clothes she had worn to bed at Tom's and an in-house slippers.
Henry, the dutiful husband, had a practiced smile plastered on his face as he draped his jacket over her shoulders, shielding her from the barrage of questions and the intrusive lenses.
"Thank you all for your concern for my wife's well-being," he boomed, his voice cutting through the din. "As you can see, she's a little overwhelmed by the warm welcome."
A sympathetic murmur rippled through the crowd. "We just want to know she is alright, Mr. Rosewood," a voice called out.
"She is. Although, she has been through a very difficult ordeal, and your support means the world to us.," Henry replied smoothly, his hand firmly on her lower back, guiding her towards a waiting car. "But this trip has taken its toll, and she needs to clean up and get some rest before she can face everyone. Please understand."
The car pulled away, leaving the disappointed reporters in its wake. Mia, still hidden under the cloak of Henry's jacket, clung to the leather seat, her heart hammering against her ribs.
Somehow, being here in Husla, thousands of miles away from everyone who loved and cared for her, made her familiar companion— fear, to return.
The familiar route to Henry's mansion stretched before her, each landmark a stark reminder of the life she had desperately tried to escape.
As they approached the gates, Mia grimaced when she saw a festive banner proclaiming "Welcome Home, Vanessa!" hung across the gate.
As the car drew closer, laughter and chatter filled the air, and music thrummed from within, letting her know a party was going on inside.
"How generous of me. I prepared a feast to celebrate the return of the prodigal wife," Henry whispered to her.
Mia ignored him, and watched as a throng of people came out of the house with wineglasses in hand.
"Surprise!" the crowd roared as the car came to a halt.
Panic clawed at Mia's throat. This wasn't supposed to happen. This was supposed to be a quiet return, so why did he do all of this? What did he hope to achieve by inviting them all here while making sure she was so shabbily dressed?
Amidst the throng, Mia recognized some faces from galas and charity events– the wives of Henry's business associates, his family members were present too.
Henry, ever the gracious host, pulled her out of the car and turned to the crowd. "Calm down, darling. Don't be scared. No one is going to harm you. They are all here to welcome you home. Say hello, honey," Henry said softly as though he was talking to a mentally unstable patient.
Amidst the throng, Mia recognized some faces from galas and charity events– the wives of Henry's business associates, his family members were present too.
Henry, ever the gracious host, pulled her out of the car and turned to the crowd. "Calm down, darling. Don't be scared. No one is going to harm you. They are all here to welcome you home. Say hello, honey," Henry said softly as though he was talking to a mentally unstable patient.
Mia plastered a smile on her face, a mask that felt heavy and suffocating. Greetings were exchanged, and Mia felt like a puppet on strings, mechanically responding to the endless stream of well-wishes and veiled questions.
As Henry ushered her into the house, she could hear some ladies talking some feet away.
"How lucky she is to be married to such a devoted man," one of them said.
"Who would have thought that she was crazy? Henry must be a saint," Another whispered and Mia gritted her teeth, shutting their voices out.
Almost as soon as they walked through the door, her parents emerged from nowhere, "Oh, my darling daughter. I thought I lost you for good," her mother cried as she went to embrace her, and Mia stood stiffly as her mother's arms went around her.
Henry remained by her side, a doting smile on his face as he looked at Mia, leaving everyone there with no doubt in mind that he adored his wife.
"You are welcome home, Vanessa. We will talk after you have settled in," her father said.
The reporters, some of whom had managed to slip into the party, hovered on the fringes, their eyes never straying far from her. Henry, ever present at her side, kept a tight grip on her arm, a subtle reminder of who was in control.
"How would we get this treasure chest out of here? Do you think the owners of the resort or the residents of this island would let us leave with it?" Harry asked, indulging her beautiful daydream.
Jade puffed out her chest and struck a heroic pose. "We'd fight for it. I'm a good fighter. You did mention something about knowing how to fight, didn't you?" She asked with a grin.
Harry's laughter intensified, tears welling up in his eyes. "Esquire, did you lure me out of my perfectly good nap to admire a rock and fantasize about pirate battles?"
Jade nodded. "Yes. Is there a problem with that?" she asked and he shook his head.
"None at all," Harry said as he reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from her cheek.
"But you know what? You don't need pirate booty or whatever to be on equal footing with me financially. When we get married, all I have will be yours, and all you have will remain yours. You will be wealthier than me then," Harry said, and she grinned.
"Nah. I don't want to be wealthier. That won't be equal footing. All I have will be yours too. That's the only way we would be on equal footing. Add up everything together," she said and then paused her lips.
"But that would complicate things if we ever plan to get divorced," she said, and the gleam in Harry's eyes disappeared.
"Divorce? Do you plan to get divorced?" He asked with a frown, not liking the mention of such a term between them.
"Well, the future is full of uncertainty. Most of the couples that seek divorce were once helplessly in love..."
"Can you do me a favor and never talk about divorce between us?" He cut in.
"I'm just being logical..."
"I'd rather not get married at all if divorce is an option between us," Harry stated flatly and turned to leave but Jade quickly ran to block his path.
"Why are you upset? I was only stating a fact. I'm..." she trailed off when it suddenly occurred to her that he might be reacting that way because of his father and Sara.
"You know what? Screw facts. I'm never divorcing you. As a matter of fact, let's never bring up the word between us. It is prohibited from our vocabulary going forward, and our kids are not permitted to say the word either. Speaking about kids, how soon will you like to have kids when we get married? Immediately? Or a year or two after?" She asked, placing both arms on his shoulder and standing on tiptoe to kiss away the crease on his forehead.
"You're never going to bring it up in our discussion again, right?" He asked, and she looked at him with a mock puzzled expression.
"Bring what up? Having kids? Cause I don't remember bringing anything else up," she said, and Harry laughed as she had expected him to.
"Fine. Let's have the home all to ourselves for two years and find a balance between work, marriage, and our personal lives before having kids. That way you would have worked for sometime before going on a break again because of your pregnancy," Harry suggested.
"That sounds reasonable. But there is no reason to go on a break because I'm pregnant..."
"You will go on a break when you're pregnant, sugar," Harry said and raised an eyebrow.
"Will you go on a break with me?" She asked, and he shook his head.
"You're the pregnant one..."
"We will be pregnant together. I won't go on a break. I will come to the office with you," she insisted and Harry opened his mouth to argue but shut it.
Time would tell. There was no need wasting his breath since he knew that when the time came, she would be the one insisting she didn't want to get out of bed herself. Thanks to Bryan's bragging, he had started to read on the subject.
"And how many kids would you want us to have? One? Two? A dozen?" She asked,
"A dozen," he said and she nodded.
"Good. We are on the same page," she said, and Harry looked at her incredulously.
"You really want a dozen?" He asked, and she laughed.
"I want three. Two boys and a girl," she said and Harry shook his head.
"I prefer to have all girls."
"Why all girls?" She asked with an amused smile.
"Because I want to be a proud girl dad forever," he said, and she giggled.
"Well, we will see how that goes. For now, let's go get ready for our sightseeing. Our tour guide will be here soon," Jade said, and hand in hand they returned to their suite.