Becoming Buddies

The exhausted trio pushed open the creaking front door of the small apartment. The familiar scent of worn upholstery and old floorboards met them, a stark contrast to the metallic tang of blood left behind at the bank. Elena emerged from the narrow hallway. Her welcoming smile vanished the second her gaze landed on Miriam. She rushed forward, grabbing her mother’s shoulders.

"Mom! What happened to your face? Who did this to you?"

The distinct, angry red mark of a handprint marred Miriam’s severely swollen cheek. Her skin looked raw, the bruising already settling into a dark purple hue around her jawline. Miriam flinched, stepping back and waving her hands in a frantic, dismissive gesture.

"It is nothing, Lena. Just a silly misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding?" Elena pressed, her voice pitching higher. "You have a handprint on your face!"

Miriam swallowed hard. She shot a nervous, desperate glance at Gareth, then at Kaelen. "I was at the grocery store. You know how those evening sales get. A woman grabbed the last batch of discounted vegetables, and we got into a minor scuffle over the cabbage. It was foolish. I bumped my cheek. That is all."

It was a blatant lie. A flimsy cover to hide the bloody, traumatizing reality of the bank incident. Miriam knew if she mentioned the shattered bones and severed tongue, Elena would panic. Elena turned her sharp gaze to her father, seeking the truth.

Gareth nodded without hesitation, silently corroborating the story. "It is true, sweetheart. Just a crazy shopper. Your husband and I arrived right as it ended."

Elena looked at Kaelen. Kaelen met her eyes, holding his posture relaxed, and offered a soft, confirming nod.

The united front worked. Elena’s tense shoulders dropped, visibly relieved the injury did not stem from anything serious. "You need to be more careful, Mom," Elena murmured, reaching out to gently touch the unbruised side of Miriam’s face. "Come into the small kitchen. Let me put some ice on that. We can prep dinner while we cool that swelling down."

"Good idea," Miriam said. She cast one last look at the men before following her daughter.

As the kitchen door swung shut, the lingering tension in the living room morphed into a heavy silence. Gareth dropped his mild-mannered facade. His jaw locked. He tipped his head toward the sliding glass door, subtly gesturing for Kaelen to join him. Kaelen followed him out onto the chilly outdoor balcony.

The evening air bit at their skin. Gareth leaned against the rusted iron railing and pulled a crushed pack of thick cigarettes from his jacket pocket. He offered one to Kaelen. Kaelen accepted the cigarette, placing it between his lips. Gareth struck a match. The small flame illuminated the older man’s tired eyes, revealing a sudden, dangerous glint. This was no longer the beaten-down father-in-law from the bank. This was a man willing to die to protect his daughter from a dangerous, wealthy enigma.

Gareth took a long drag. Smoke plumed from his nose. "Who exactly are you?" Gareth demanded intensely, his voice low and scraping with hostility. "What is your real motive in approaching Lena?"

The murderous intent in his gaze held steady. He stood ready to fight, a fierce, protective father cornered by an unknown threat.

Kaelen did not flinch. He understood the older man’s fear. Instead of answering the interrogation directly, Kaelen reached into his pants pocket. His fingers brushed against cold wood. He produced Elena’s old walnut bracelet and held it up in the fading light. He quietly pointed out its noticeably missing centerpiece.

Gareth narrowed his eyes. The memory washed over him, bitter and vivid.

"Lena has always had a fierce, kind-hearted soul," Gareth muttered, ash falling from his cigarette onto the concrete. "When she was young, she saw a dying beggar boy freezing on the street corner. She selflessly took off her own expensive winter coat and wrapped it around him. She even gave him a single, uniquely carved walnut from that very bracelet to keep him company." Gareth’s voice thickened with emotion. "She came home shivering, her lips blue. She fell gravely ill for weeks after that. Her mother and I thought we were going to lose her."

Kaelen let the silence stretch for a heartbeat. Then, he reached for the collar of his shirt. He hooked a finger under a thin string and pulled. A smooth, heavily worn walnut emerged from beneath his clothes. The wood was polished from years of constant friction, the edges worn down by the desperate grip of a man fighting for his life.

Kaelen held his hand out. He placed the worn walnut directly into the empty gap on the bracelet. It matched flawlessly. The carved grooves aligned.

"Yes, that is me," Kaelen confessed softly, his deep voice softening with an unwavering, emotional resolve. "I was that beggar boy."

Gareth stared, speechless.

"This specific walnut gave me the intense strength to survive over the agonizing years," Kaelen continued, his grip tightening around the wooden sphere. "Through blood and war. Without it, I would not have survived to become the God of War. I owe her my life, Gareth. I will never let Lena down."

The profound revelation hit Gareth like a physical blow. Shocked beyond measure, he stumbled backward. His shoulders hit the siding of the apartment building. The thick cigarette dropped from his lips, bouncing off his shoe.

"You... you are the mysterious, legendary God of War?" Gareth stammered. The title felt alien on his tongue.

To quell his father-in-law's lingering disbelief, Kaelen calmly reached into his jacket. He withdrew a sleek, metallic rectangle and flashed his primary rose gold bank card again. The exclusive crest caught the balcony light, the ultimate symbol of worldly power.

Gareth stared at the card, bewildered and fascinated. "But... if you possess this kind of immense power, why were you pathetically chased out of the Mercer family residence over a meager betrothal gift?"

Kaelen let out a heavy sigh, deeply embarrassed by his own foolishness. A bitter irony twisted his features. "Because I made a terrible mistake," Kaelen admitted truthfully. "Six years ago, Elena generously lent this bracelet to her cousin, Chloe. When I returned to fulfill my vow, I tracked the bracelet and mistakenly believed Chloe was the girl who saved me. I served and protected the wrong woman for half a decade. I only accidentally discovered the crushing truth yesterday."

The confession hung in the cold air. The puzzle pieces snapped together, washing away Gareth’s deep-seated doubts. The resentment he had harbored vanished, replaced by a surging tide of thrill and ecstasy. His supposedly useless son-in-law was the single most powerful man in the world! Gareth’s heart soared with immense pride. He stood up straight, a beaming smile breaking across his weathered face.

Seeing Gareth’s wholehearted, beaming acceptance, Kaelen reached into his pocket once more. Knowing intimately that Old Mr. Stanton had frozen his father-in-law's financial accounts, he pulled out the supplementary rose gold card.

"Take this," Kaelen offered generously. "You and Mom should not have to struggle."

Gareth leaned in, marveling closely at the gleaming card. But as Kaelen pressed it toward him, Gareth firmly and proudly handed it back.

"No," Gareth insisted. "I appreciate the gesture, son. But over the years, I have made some secret, lucrative stock investments. The returns have been excellent. I have more than enough money tucked away for my own retirement." He stepped forward and clapped a hand down on Kaelen’s shoulder, patting it with firm, fatherly affection.

"Keep this money," Gareth urged confidently. "Buy something amazing for Lena so her arrogant cousins can never look down on her again."

Kaelen smiled, moved by the older man’s fierce devotion. He gratefully took the card back, slipping the rose gold metal into his pocket.

Neither man noticed the sliding glass door crack open. Elena quietly stepped out of the kitchen, wiping her damp hands on a dish towel. She paused in the shadows of the doorway. Her eyes darted between the two men. From her angle, she witnessed the clandestine exchange. She saw the gleam of the card passing between their hands. She saw her father patting Kaelen’s shoulder with a desperate sort of earnestness, and she watched Kaelen pocket it.

Her brow furrowed deeply. A rush of hot anger spiked in her chest. She misinterpreted the shadowy scene unfolding before her, firmly assuming her desperate father was the one foolishly handing Kaelen his hard-earned money. She thought Kaelen was scamming her father out of his secret retirement funds.

Oblivious to her silent, furious scrutiny, Gareth clapped his hands together. He bounced on his heels, buzzing with irrepressible energy. He turned back to Kaelen, his eyes shining.

"I have always had profound admiration for strong military men!" Gareth declared excitedly. "We shall definitely have some good drinks tonight, Kaelen!"

Before Kaelen could say a word, Gareth turned and marched back inside. He strode past a startled Elena without even noticing her glaring eyes. He practically skipped through the living room, heading for the front door.

"I am getting the best wine I can find!" Gareth cheered loudly, his joyful, booming voice echoing through the entire house as he hurried downstairs with a spring in his step.

The heavy front door slammed shut behind him.

Out on the balcony, Kaelen stood frozen, amused by his father-in-law's sudden burst of energetic exuberance. He shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. But as he turned to head back inside, he locked eyes with Elena. She stood framed in the doorway, clutching the dish towel like a weapon, her face pale with a mix of profound confusion and simmering outrage.

Caught off guard by her furious expression, Kaelen’s smile faltered, leaving him staring at her, at a total loss for words.