Wishes can't protect us

With the dust settled, and the tides ceased, the family settled in harmony.

There wasn't much in it in the first place, but what was important was Martha recognizing she might have gone overboard with her playful jabs, hurting her elder brother's ego in the process.

Her remorseful gestures and warm apology soothed the hurt and he responded with a tight bear hug, welcoming her back into his embrace.

Matthew earned back his son's compassion also, forgiving him means getting a piece of his 3-inches tall cake tomorrow.

Although Wilson couldn't have been so unfilial as to deny his father a share of his coming-of-age cake, the moment was still tender when he pulled his son into a strong embrace.

Gloria, the family's emotional anchor, watched from a short distance, a gentle, knowing smile playing on her lips as Wilson spun a mesmerising web of nighttime tales for his siblings beneath the silvery moonbeams and soft, whispering breeze.

Underneath the moon's silvery ambience and the comforting canopy of the tree, which stood like a steadfast soldier in their midst, Gloria's eyelashes fluttered with tender care and motherly affection, dancing with the airflow, her hair breezing through, shining like the moon's own reflection.

Entranced by his wife's breathtaking, ephemeral beauty, Matthew turned to follow her wistful gaze, his eyes drawn to the same tender scene.

Having intuited her thoughts, he too flashed a self-depreciating and wistful smile, however, quickly suppressing it.

"Ahem! I'm afraid I must interrupt this fun session. I also wish the night could linger on, but it's time to draw the curtain for today."

"You both need to get some rest for tomorrow. As the saying goes, early to bed, early to rise."

"Remember, you need to wake up early tomorrow, and in top shape, to help your mum prepare a myriad of dishes for your brother's birthday."

"Wilson, don't forget to eat now, before your food gets any colder. Get some rest and let your mind recharge for tomorrow," he said, his voice trailing off at the end.

Despite hearing her father's words, Maureen pretended not to hear, gesturing to Wilson and Martha to do the same, playful defiance sparkling in her eyes.

Mischievous minds indeed think alike, as Martha also showed her consent, but Wilson refused to play along.

While nighttime stories remain thrilling as always for all parties, discipline is crucial, especially after their father's reminder.

As the elder brother, Wilson took the lead, ensuring their father's words didn't fall on deaf ears.

"Alright, storytime is over! Off to bed, quickly now! We'll continue another day or start a new tale, but definitely not tomorrow - it's my special day, after all!"

"The next story is about a Princess who fell in love and eloped with a thief."

Wilson knew that promising a thrilling sequel would be the perfect incentive to get the girls to bed, and so he dangled that tantalising tale to coax them into retiring, a perfect click bait!"

The girls thrilled at the prospect of a new and immersive tale, eagerly rose to their feet, rushing to their parents for a goodnight hug.

"Good night, my Little Angels," he said, his voice warm but firm, "Sleep tight, and please head straight to bed. I'd rather not hear any noises from your room or discover that you ended up sleeping late. You know me too well to risk getting me angry!"

Both kids shuddered slightly, before nodding their heads in unison, like fowls pecking at grains.

They then moved from their mother's side to their father's, who lovingly pecked their foreheads in return.

With all goodnight rituals duly observed, they both headed off to their room, leaving Wilson and their parents to a peaceful evening.

And suddenly,

Grrr!!!

Gloria leaped up in fright, her eyes darting wildly around the room, searching for the source of the sound.

Wilson, the subconscious artiste behind the low growl, facepalmed, amused by his mother's comical overreaction.

"Mummy, please calm down. It's just my intestinal worms screaming in intense hunger," he said with a chuckle, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

"I'm starving, so I'll head to the kitchen now. Good night, Mum, Good night, Dad."

"Good night, My World," his mother replied.

"Good night, My Pride," his father added.

Hearing their never-changing endearments, Wilson's face lit up with a warm smile.

He bowed slightly, his eyes shining with affection, and padded softly towards the entrance of the house.

Just as he reached out to touch the door, a hoarse voice echoed from behind.

"Take care, son! Tomorrow is a big day."

Suddenly, his steps faltered, his eyes flickering with a mix of confusion and curiosity. He slowly turned to face the moonlit silhouettes of his parents, their figures bathed in the soft, ethereal glow.

With a slight nod, he refocused his gaze ahead and passed through the doorway.

Beneath the tree's canopy, Gloria, with Matthew's hands tenderly caressing her back, burst into tears as she glimpsed Wilson's fleeting silhouette.

Matthew, while comforting his wife, also felt tears well up in his eyes. In this serene setting, one man, one woman, one tree, one moon and a few stars converged in a poignant moment of wistfulness and nostalgia, their emotions suspended in time.

Many years have come and gone, only they know the number of roads that have led them here.

No one but them knows the number of things fallen by the wayside, the number of ones slipped away, all to gain what they now hold dear.

Gloria nestled her head on Matthew's shoulder, and he, in turn, held her close to his heart, his arms wrapped around her slim waist like a strap belt, a tender embrace that spoke volumes of their love.

They remained in that same position, indulging in their wistful states as the wind whispered a gentle breeze past their faces.

Periodically, the air grew subtly colder, and the dust gathered, forming a minor whirlwind in the distance.

Despite the sudden change in the weather, they still stayed inseparable like magnetised bars.

Bathed in the cascading moonlight, they glowed, like an unknown constellation, lost in the warmth and fragrance of each other's bodies.

"I reckon we wish for the same thing, right?" a tender voice tickled Matthew's earlobes.

As the voice brushed past his ear, and wife's fragrance wafted up, his body softly shivered, unsure if it was from the cold or the moment.

In that same instance, his eyes looked towards the distance and said in a forlorn voice, "Having to do this tomorrow?"

"Yes, surely, I do wish for the same thing. But... Wishes can't protect us, can they?"