No one could have warned Sofia of the shock she was about to receive in the morning. The shock that came to her door was an unexpected, early morning visitor.

It was one of those sunny mornings when her grandfather was in relatively good health. That meant he could join her for breakfast at the table.

Sofia always loved breaking fast with her favorite person in the world, her grampa. His one smile could give her the strength that never failed to make her feel invincible for the rest of the day.

Therefore, she prepared a grand breakfast for that morn that included pancake, bacon, sausages, and the special syrup she made when her mood was as incredible as it was now. Putting everything on the table and feeling quite pleased with her work, she was just about to turn around and call for grampa. But right that moment, like a freight train Sam came barreling down the stairs.

Some things will never change.

"Where does my notebook disappear every morning?" Sam complained about utter frustration. "What the hell's wrong with it!"

"Language, Samuel Hayden! And nothing's wrong with that legless notebook, it's you who should keep your things at their designated place," Sofia chastised, fists placed on her hips as she glared at the boy, hiding her smile as she watched his chubby upper body bare. "And why are you not wearing your shirt?"

It didn't seem like Sam heard her, or even if he did he just chose to ignore her and barged inside the coat closet next to the main door.

Now, why the hell his notebook would be in there?

Rolling eyes, Sofia checked her wristwatch. Sam was going to be late for school again today. It was a weekly thing.

"Grampa," Sofia called, looking at her grandfather's room. "Come now, breakfast's served," she sang the last bit cheerfully.

Walking around the table, she asked Sam, "Is Skyler up from her beauty sleep yet, Sam?" Her voice was a few octaves high so that he could hear from inside the closet.

"Yes, she's almost done painting her face," came Sam's reply through the noise of things being shuffled inside the closet.

Sofia was suspicious that the closet had finally turned into a mini storeroom despite her many missions on keeping it fairly clean.

She was just about to go and check out Sam's search mission and help him remember where the heck he'd seen that dratted notebook the last time, but halting her from that—the doorbell rang.

She arched a brow.

Now, who could it be?

A visitor at the Hayden household in such early hours of the morning wasn't a regular thing. This was the time when, one by one, they left home for the day with the exception of grampa. And even grampa would go for a short walk with his neighborhood buddies accompanied by walking sticks and all.

"Coming." Sofia jogged around the table, in the process elbowing her satchel bag that she had kept on the table. She held it in time before it could drop making all the contents inside spill out. That would have been another extra work and the cause of dampening her good mood of this morn.

And God forbid if her sour mood turned out to be the reason for getting late for work, she would make a bad example of herself in front of her employees. That was something she could not allow.

She yanked the door open and raised a brow finding at their threshold—a three-piece suit-wearing, jaw-dropping muscular male physique who was also exceptionally tall. So tall, that quite hilariously their ancient style door frame ended till his clean shaved chin, and rest of his face stayed unseen and above the termite chewed door of the Hayden household.

"The headless monster!" Came the panicked shriek of Sam from the background.

Headless monster, indeed.

Just who the hell grows so tall these days?

Sam's thundering footsteps going distant brought her from the amusement of encountering this human tree so early in the morning. She waited for a second for the man to initiate his introduction or at least bend a bit so that she could see his face. But when none of that happened, she pursed her lips in annoyance.

"Hello, mister."Sofia cleared her throat. "Would you mind coming downstairs, showing your face, and telling me who you are? Because apparently, I don't have all the time in the world."

Below the door frame, the corner of the damned headless monster's lips lifted up into a smirk.

Sofia frowned, feeling utterly irritated. He was tall, alright, but that didn't give him the right to laugh at the shorter population of the world. He was an anomaly, not her.

What an absolute giant jerk!

He tipped down his head and suddenly, a pair of unique brown eyes were staring at her, the intensity almost burning her vision.

Wait.

She did a double-take.

Those deep brown eyes; the spark in them; and that small, barely noticeable cut across his left eyebrow.

She'd seen them before. She'd seen him before.

Sofia gasped, stumbling a small but monumental step backward.

Was it HIM?

Her heartbeat accelerated. She was rendered speechless.

"Who is it, Sof?" grampa asked in his usual, slightly gruff voice with a hint of quiver from weakness while climbing down the stairs. "Sam says the headless monster has bestowed us with his presence."

Sofia would have laughed at the hilarity of the situation which was not new in their home, all thanks to Sam's wild fragments of imagination. But the possibility of her laughing here was fated to die as the headless monster hastily slid himself past her, his arm grazing hers in the process. It was impossible not to notice how toned that arm seemed in that brief contact.

Sofia turned around, gaping.

"I believe Sam was talking about me," and there was a familiarity in the way he spoke as well, more confident than how she remembered him. There was evident respect in his eyes as he spoke with her grandfather.

"I see," grampa murmured looking at their morning visitor up and down with a hint of laughter on his face as he glanced at the door frame and back at the tall stranger. "Who are you, by the way?"

And Sofia's one ear almost perked up like that of an eager rabbit's.

With lips curved up into a smile, the tall stranger said, "I didn't expect you to recognize me, Oldbert, it's been so long."

Only one person called Albert Hayden—her grampa—Oldbert in the past.

She saw the moment recognition replaced confusion in grampa's eyes.

"Max!" grampa's eyes sparkled in surprise.

And Sofia felt her heart stop at the confirmation.

It's really him.

"Max!" she whispered out without her realizing it. "Wilderness—"

Those deep brown eyes could only belong to that one person.

Stored words, questions and so much more raced against each other and settled right below her tongue, waiting for their chance and turn to stumble out and reach their destination. A destination that had been missing for a long time but now stood right in front of her.

But it was as if she had been suddenly cursed into a stone, she could not move, could not speak, and could not blink for it was hard to believe this to be a reality that Max Wilder was after all here, in flesh, standing taller—probably six feet four now, and looked so much contrasting to his old self.

Only the eyes that were still the same, frighteningly sparkling with intelligence like before. However, the innocence that existed in them was nowhere to be seen now.

His glasses were also missing. But those eyes still looked as much captivating.

Sofia feverishly caught from the corner of her eye her grampa excitedly talking to Max. She bit her bottom lip in embarrassment, realizing that she was staring unblinking and like an utter fool at him.

But he wasn't even sparing her a single glance!

His cautious disregard towards her was palpable. And that made her feel further embarrassed.

She decided it was high time she spoke now instead of standing on the sideline like a miserable ghost.

"So...," she began uncertainly and immediately trailed off, her nerves haywire.

Two sets of eyes looked back at her, the deep brown pair turned cold, however, losing the excitement of when he was talking to her grandfather. Her stomach dropped at that.

Wasn't he happy seeing her after so many years?

But she was. So incredibly much, that it almost hurt. Sofia never knew that there could be happiness so strong it had the power to hurt.

She gulped, suddenly at a loss of words again. "I'm getting late for work."

Damn!

That was definitely not what she meant to say—that was definitely not what she should have said.

Grampa smiled at her warmly. "Then you must leave now, Sofia. Now that Max is back from London, you can talk to him later anytime, right?"

Sofia could barely nod as she watched in disappointment her grandfather ushering Max to their lounge area.

Begrudgingly, she left.

How dare he behaved like that to her, like she didn't even exist!

If it had been the old Max Wilder, he would have—

Sofia sighed, her lips lifted up to a sad smile. He would have behaved like she was the most precious girl in this universe. He would have trailed behind her everywhere—like a lost puppy, his glasses hanging off of his nose adorably, and hair as always tousled as if it were a bird's nest. He would have talked nonstop about everything and would have never been so uptight and arrogant as he was now.

Their garage was more like a pigeon hole adjoined to the house and quite matched her vintage Nash Ambassador.

With pins whirling about in her stomach Sofia pulled out her car, its white body shining brilliantly underneath the sunlight. And almost immediately, the blasted car began making horrible noises. If it had been any other normal day she would have cursed her car engine until it stopped making those horrible disco beats along with the gurgling. But it was not just any other day.

It was the day when he returned.

Why did she have to again—speak about getting late for work when in actuality she wanted nothing more than to talk to him? Why couldn't he just ask her not to go, because she would have definitely stayed had he even acknowledged her, just for once!

She sighed.

Time truly changes people.