Calmly, she pushed the door fully open, heels clicking softly on the marble. Dorothy narrowed her eyes.
"You're sitting in my chair," she said coolly.
"Excuse me?" Dorothy said sharply, her eyes locked on the figure sitting casually in her chair. "Who are you? Hello? I'm talking to you! What are you doing in my chair—and in my office?"
No response.
She stepped closer, heels echoing like thunder against the marble floor.
"Hey! I'm speaking to you! How did you get in here?"
The man slowly turned, a familiar smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Hello, cousin," he said.
Dorothy gasped. "Oh my God… Theo!"
They rushed into each other's arms and hugged tightly, twirling around in joy. Her eyes sparkled with emotion.
"When did you arrive?" she asked, still clutching his arm.
"Just now. Didn't you know I was coming?"
"No! If I had, I would've stayed home. Didn't Mom or… Dorinda tell you?"
He chuckled. "Nope. But you know how those two are, never in the mood to share anything with you."
Dorothy rolled her eyes. "Honestly, they couldn't wait to get rid of me this morning."
They both laughed.
"It's so good to see you, Theo. I really missed you."
"I missed you, too, Dee. More than you can imagine."
Behind them, Ham peeked in with a grin. "Well, did you miss us, too, or are we not part of the family anymore?"
Sonia joined in, arms folded. "Exactly. Some of us held down the fort."
"Come here, you two," Theo said, wrapping both in a quick, warm hug. "Of course, I missed you guys. It feels amazing to be back."
"We almost thought you'd forgotten your roots," Ham teased.
"As if I'd ever miss Dorothy and Dorinda's 23rd birthday," Theo said with mock offense.
Dorothy laughed. "You're crazy."
"Hey," she added, glancing at the clock, "Aunt Sarah and Dorinda must be losing their minds by now. You were supposed to be home ages ago."
"Well, I wasn't leaving without you. You were the person I wanted to see first—and I knew exactly where to find you."
Dorothy flushed slightly. "Sweet talker."
Ham stepped in. "Go on, Dorothy. We've got things covered here."
"Thanks," she said warmly. "Let me just grab my bag."
"Ham," she called over her shoulder, "will you drop my car off at home later?"
"Only if you promise me a day off and a box of those Italian cookies you keep hoarding."
"You got it," she replied, laughing.
"I missed riding in this sports car on the highway," she said as she and Theo walked out.
"Same here. I'm sure Mom had the driver leave it at the airport just for me," Theo said, patting the hood of the sleek black convertible waiting for them.
As they drove off, their conversation flowed effortlessly, full of laughter, old jokes, and childhood stories.
Meanwhile, back at the Basiliou estate, Mrs. Sarah was pacing in the hall, her heels clicking furiously against the tile.
"Where is he?" she muttered for the fourth time.
Dorinda sat stiffly on the edge of the couch, dressed to perfection and barely breathing. "Are you sure the flight wasn't delayed?"
"I called the airport. The flight landed over an hour ago," Sarah snapped.
Dorinda's hand clutched her pearl necklace.
"He should've been here by now," she whispered.
And just then—the grand doors opened.
Dorothy and Theo strolled in, hand in hand, laughing like they hadn't missed a day apart.
Dorinda's smile froze mid-lipstick.
Mrs. Sarah stood still, her eyes scanning the scene.
Something had shifted.
And they could feel it.
"I'm home, Mom. Dad—your son is back!" Theo's voice rang through the marble halls of the Basiliou estate.
Mrs. Sarah froze the moment she saw him walk in—with Dorothy.
Dorinda's heart dropped. Why her? Always her.
"Hey, Teo! I'm so glad you're back home. I missed you so much," Dorinda said, stepping forward with arms wide open. She hugged him softly, pressing her cheek to his, lingering a moment too long.
"Me too, Dorinda," Theo replied politely, but his eyes drifted toward Dorothy.
He gently eased away from Dorinda and stepped past her, sweeping his mother into a warm embrace.
"My boy," Mrs. Sarah said with a forced smile, her eyes flicking between him and Dorothy.
Just then, the commotion drew out Mr. Basiliou, tall and greying, but still dignified in presence.
"Son! What a surprise! You didn't tell me you were returning home."
"I did, Dad. Didn't Mom tell you I was coming?"
Mrs. Sarah interjected quickly, "I wanted it to be a surprise—for your father."
"Oh, Mom," Theo smiled, brushing it off.
Dorinda stepped forward again, her voice sugary. "Did you enjoy the drive? I asked Peter to bring the car to the airport for you."
He barely looked at her. "Thanks, cousin. That was thoughtful of you."
Dorinda twirled dramatically, her white silk dress flowing like mist. "And how do I look?"
"Good, Dorinda."
She stopped mid-spin. "What—just good, Theo? I spent hours dressing up for you, and all you can say is Good?"
He blinked at her. "What would you like me to say?"
Dorothy stifled a laugh, covering it with a cough.
Theo quickly turned to the table. "Let's have a toast. It's really good to be home."
He popped open a bottle of wine. Everyone took a glass—except Dorinda.
"You're not taking any, dear?" Mrs. Sarah asked.
"She can't," Dorothy said simply. "Her lungs."
Dorinda's face turned red. Theo and Dorothy exchanged a look and a smile.
That was the final straw.
Dorinda stomped out of the hall, heels clacking against the tiles. Upstairs, she slammed her door shut and threw herself on the bed.
"That stupid girl always meddles in my affairs. I hate her!" she screamed into a pillow.
A soft knock came moments later.
"Who is it?" she snapped.
"It's me," said a housemaid. "I brought you some juice."
"Come in. Put it over there. Now get out."
Downstairs, Mrs. Sarah cleared her throat. "Theo, why don't we plan a little welcome party for you?"
"No, Mom. That won't be necessary."
She sighed. "Of course. I know once you've made up your mind, it's impossible to change it."
He smirked and kissed her cheek. "You know me too well."
Later, as dusk painted the horizon in rose and ash, Theo hugged Dorothy one more time.
"Catch you later, Dee," he whispered.
"Don't stay out too long," she said with a playful nudge.
He stepped out, his hands in his pockets, taking in the air of a place that hadn't changed—while everything else had.