A New Year's Promise
Time marched on relentlessly, and it was obvious who had knocked on the door. The long conversation had finally wrapped up, and Carlyle had come to her room. Her kind mother must have told him where it was.
'It's over at last.' Bianca's eyes, heavy with fatigue and blinking sleepily, snapped wide open in an instant. Sleep vanished, and a surge of energy coursed through her body.
"Wait just a sec…!"
Of course, when she rushed to open the door, there stood Carlyle Schultz as expected. Grinning from ear to ear, Bianca threw herself into his arms.
"You did great, right?"
"Who do you think I am?"
A sigh of relief escaped Carlyle Schultz. As they pulled back slightly to look at each other, they both burst into chuckles. Somehow, their laughter had started to mirror each other's. How could they not laugh at the sight of their partner's utterly exhausted face?
"You look completely wiped out."
Bianca's words drew another sigh from Carlyle.
"…Your father's no pushover."
It had felt almost like a formal marriage meeting.
Recalling it briefly, the exchange had gone something like this:
-So, your parents? Do you have contact with them…?
-They're both gone.
-……
A heavy silence hung at first.
-I… I see. Hope that didn't hurt.
-Not really. I'm fine.
-Ahem… You've got some grit to you.
Carlyle had no idea why Maximilian Shama had cleared his throat like that. The father had been about to nitpick about how his daughter would fare in her in-laws' home, but that excuse fell flat. He hadn't known the parents were deceased. In that awkward moment, the childish pettiness of a father reluctant to let go of his daughter left him embarrassed. Maximilian Shama reflected inwardly for a bit.
After that, their conversation flowed more normally than expected.
-What do you like about my daughter?
-For starters, she's pretty. Super cute, too. And pure-hearted.
-Of course she is—she's my kid. But you've got an eye for that, at least.
Maximilian nodded subtly, a swell of pride in his chest. Anyone with eyes would be drawn to his beautiful, adorable daughter, Bianca Shama. He appreciated the honesty, at least. If this thief in front of him had spouted flashy nonsense about falling for her personality over looks, he'd have snorted in disdain.
-But the real reason I love Bianca with all my heart is…
What followed was far more detailed and sincere than Maximilian had anticipated. Their first meeting (slightly embellished), the times they'd quarreled briefly, the incident in the gym storage room where his daughter had shed tears like a chick.
-She apologized…?
-Yes, sir. The sports festival where we teamed up, the crisis on the school trip, the moments we drifted apart.
The reunion on "confession day," the proposal where he'd bared his heart. Trips to the aquarium and movies, park strolls, simple café dates. Maximilian heard every moment they'd shared after growing close. Carlyle laid out all the memories they'd built together.
'No way…'
Maximilian had been skeptical at first, but Carlyle's phone held all the proof. She packed him lunches every day now—though she was his daughter. The kid, originally a boy, hugged him without hesitation and was ridiculously affectionate. She even said she loved him outright. Photos of them embracing on dates, texts exchanged every night before bed. After seeing it all, Maximilian had no choice but to concede.
Maximilian Shama was at a loss for words. He just muttered in a daze.
"How… She never even said that to her own father…"
"……"
Carlyle felt a childish twinge of triumph deep down, despite the immaturity of it all.
Hearing the story, Bianca's cheeks flushed briefly.
'…To Dad? That's a whole different vibe.'
She could say "I love you" to Carlyle, but to her father? Impossible. It had felt that way since puberty hit. Awkward. Uncomfortable.
"Try saying it next time?"
"Might not be a bad idea."
"What happened after? Tell me more!"
Carlyle chuckled at Bianca's pestering.
"After that, nothing much. Family background, school life. Grades were good, so future plans came up. Resolve for marriage, how serious the relationship is."
Carlyle had answered every question earnestly, holding nothing back. From being an orphan, his life story, his thoughts, his future plans.
"And I flat-out told him I'd marry you, no matter what."
"Y-you did…?"
He'd even dropped to one knee at the end. Arrogant words from a kneeling position.
-If you don't give permission, I'll kidnap her anyway.
-You little…?
-So please, give me your daughter. I'm shameless, but not stupid enough to let go of this chance.
"Did he grab you by the collar?!"
Bianca instinctively checked Carlyle's collar, worried her macho father might have.
"Pretty much?"
Carlyle smirked. No collar-grab meant Bianca relaxed instantly.
"Phew… Good."
It had been quite a day. They'd barely gotten approval, all things considered. Impressive. Commendable. Grateful for his effort.
Bianca stood on tiptoe, patting Carlyle's head.
"You did well. Good job."
"Is this my reward…?"
Bianca hesitated at his smile.
"Sure is."
"I prefer something else."
His finger pointed to his lips. Bianca's face heated up—she knew what he meant, and she didn't hate it.
So, moments later. The tiptoeing woman's lips met the man's. Just a light brush. Soft and intimate.
"There… happy…?"
"It was tough today."
She knew what he meant. Those golden eyes deepened, and Bianca couldn't refuse. Carlyle Schultz pulled, and she couldn't push away. Probably from way back then, and surely from here on out.
"…One more, then."
Their visions held only each other. For a fleeting moment.
Mwah— mwah—
But the kiss deepened. Tongues entwined, wet lips pressed together. Carlyle's hands caressed her soft curves.
"Mm, ahh…"
Bianca's slender arms wrapped around his firm neck.
Just as they lost themselves in each other—
The door flew open.
"Ahem, daughter…? Your father has something to—"
Time froze. Like witnessing a dog, the universe, and an apple all at once—something utterly absurd. Her father's shocked form stiffened. His wide pupils stared right at them.
"D-Dad…?"
Then he teetered— and toppled backward. Bianca rushed to his side in panic.
"Dad?!"
Chaos ensued. Warm for the young lovers, a cold winter shock for the man sending off his newly acquired daughter.
Thus ended a tumultuous year. New Year's Day dawned.
A hill rose behind the house, so from dawn, Bianca watched the sunrise with Carlyle. Chilly air, but his hand in hers kept her warm.
Whoosh—
Red light spread over the hilltop. Hands clasped, they made their wishes silently. No need to ask—they knew each other's hearts. To hold this hand forever. Onward, always. For a lifetime, perhaps.
The next day, they prepared to leave. But first, Maximilian had Carlyle to boss around.
"Hustle! Gotta sort all the seeds before you go."
Seedlings to plant come spring.
"And till the soil while you're at it."
Tilling was hard labor, of course.
"Yes, sir."
Carlyle obeyed promptly, grabbing tools without complaint and following the father.
'Hang in there, Bianca.'
'You got this…!'
Eye contact conveyed it all. The old warrior strode ahead, tall youth behind. A common sight these past days. Her father was just picking on him out of spite.
Emma Shama shook her head beside her.
"Sigh, that man. Can't act his age…"
Bianca nodded in quiet agreement. Honestly. Her father had surprisingly childish sides. She'd never noticed before, but now she did.
"He approved, though. You know that, right, sweetie?"
"Yeah, of course…"
Bianca agreed. Father never delegated house matters, especially his precious vegetable patch near the mansion. He'd always done it himself or left it to his sons. Successful businessman or not, his picky nature meant no hired help. Entrusting it to Carlyle now meant it was truly important to him.
"If it brings them closer, great. Don't think ill of it."
Even Mother wasn't intervening this time.
"Shall we prep lunch, then? Time it right."
"Sure, Mom."
Bianca clenched her fist.
'Gotta step up too.'
For Carlyle following Father, and for Father himself—she'd make snacks. Cooking was her forte since forever.
So she prepped with Mother. Meaty sides for the sweaty duo in winter chill. Hearty, warm soup too.
"How's the seasoning?"
"Looks good?"
She'd made the soup solo. Not just any soup.
"You can make that too?"
"Saw it in a video once. Beef bourguignon."
Carrots, onions, tomatoes, celery. Prime beef with red wine.
"Ooh, delicious…"
Bianca beamed at Mother's surprise. A bit awkward, a bit shy.
"Lately, I've been more into cooking…"
Always had been, but womanhood deepened the interest.
"Carlyle's lucky. Snatching up a gem like you."
"N-no, it's not…"
Bianca blushed. But she never dreamed the villagers would say the same.
Pure countryside charm: Bored neighbors popping out for drinks, peeking at another's garden.
"Sturdy lad, that one."
"Not tired, son?"
Bag of snacks in hand, Bianca spotted Carlyle tilling vigorously, shirt off, chiseled torso gleaming. Young women would've swooned, but the onlookers were kindly elders. Lucky(?)
"Hey, Maximilian, old timer. Where'd you snag such a fine, upstanding youth?"
"…Fine my foot."
Father grumbled; Carlyle wiped sweat, smirking.
"I'm pretty capable."
Laughter erupted at his light joke. Bianca took a deep breath and approached slowly.
'Will they notice…?'
The worry lingered. But snacks couldn't wait. And parents had spread the word.
-Everyone around here thinks you were always a girl, so no worries.
Pfft, still. She'd lived here till thirteen. Possible? Who knew.
"S-snacks…!"
Her hesitant arrival sparked uproar.
"Oh my, oh my…!"
"A proper bride-to-be."
"How'd such a pretty girl run around like a boy back then?"
"Does it matter? Time to marry her off."
"N-no, really."
"Voice like a pearl too."
Innocent praise turned Bianca beet red. But why?
'Why doesn't anyone suspect…?'
She'd been a boy. Yet no doubts.
"Always pretty, so we figured girl."
"Yep, that's what we thought."
"Total lady now."
Reassuring, yet oddly pride-pricking hilarity.
"Ah, now I see why that young man puts up with Maximilian's bullying."
"Hey now!"
Even Father's indignant retort. Total mayhem.
Clack—
Carlyle took her hand.
"…C'mon, Bianca."
"W-where?"
They slipped away amid the chatter to a quiet sunny spot, sitting on rocks. Unaware the elders—even picky Maximilian—watched with smiles, calling them a perfect match.
"Carlyle, not cold?"
He smirked at her concern, stretching arms wide.
"Ahh, tough work…"
Complaining, yet smiling refreshingly.
"Chaotic, huh…?"
Bianca nodded vigorously.
"Totally."
Village elders' energy was overwhelming.
Feeling guilty, she pulled out a handkerchief.
"Lemme wipe your sweat."
Gently dabbing his beaded brow. Carlyle accepted meekly.
Swipe— wipe—
Strange words echoing, her face flushed mid-wipe. Inevitable.
'It's like… I'm really the bride.'
Making snacks, wiping sweat. Pure devoted wife.
"…Why stop, Bianca?"
Caughing herself, she mumbled an excuse.
"…Sorry, felt bad."
"No need."
He chuckled.
"Fun, kinda novel experience."
Then whispered:
"I'll collect my due… Just stay by my side like this."
Serious tone, heartfelt plea. Carlyle got like this sometimes. Earnestly, almost desperately longing. Not new, but it always heated her cheeks.
The air sweetened suddenly. This moment with him—every breath unforgettable.
Her answer was set long ago. Ages ago, really.
'Yeah, it is.'
Bianca smiled softly, shyly, flower-like.
"…Yeah, I will."
Because she wanted to. They smiled at each other. Pinkies linked. Gazing at blue skies, leaning into his tender words, sharing heartbeats.
"Hey, Carlyle. What after we head back?"
"Rest a bit first. Prep for graduation, then college."
"Oh, right. College…"
The talk flowed endlessly.
Together. Welcoming the new year, dreaming futures. Both certain this happiness would last forever.
Time doesn't stop. No vows, joys, or sorrows halt it. People grow, reflect on paths walked amid the flow.
But Bianca and Carlyle, young lovers, brimmed with potential. More new experiences ahead than behind.
And one year passed.
When the pair entered their second year of university amicably, conflict arrived.