Chapter 228: Like Old Times
Meanwhile, Stan set the spoon down with a satisfied sigh, the last traces of Mia’s rich tomato stew and rice warming him from the inside out.
The modest living room felt even cozier now, filled with the quiet hum of reconnection. Before he could say anything, Mia turned to him again, her warm brown eyes sparkling with renewed energy and that familiar, hopeful gleam.
"Stan, there’s still plenty of time before the night party starts. Let’s go for a walk?"
"Alright," Stan replied with an easy nod, a small smile tugging at his lips, his gaze moving to Mrs Edith.
"Thanks for the food ma, it’s really good..."
"You’re welcome Stan, I’m glad you enjoyed it..." Mrs Edith’s voice was warm as she replied.
Meanwhile, with Stan having accept her request a while ago so readily, a bright, radiant smile flashed across Mia’s face, pure, unguarded joy that made her already stunning features glow.
’He really is the Stan I remember,’ she thought, her heart fluttering wildly. Only ’her’ Stan would agree so readily, without hesitation or calculation.
After nine long years, the idea that he might love her the way she had quietly, desperately loved him all this time felt both crazy and inevitable. Her childhood best friend, her first crush, her constant in a world that had taken so much, she couldn’t help but hope, even if it terrified her.
At that moment, she couldn’t help but blush as memories of their childish cooking games resurfaced.
Back then, she would call him her husband, and he would call her his wife, the two of them happily playing house without a care in the world.
Little Stan would leave for his imaginary "job" every morning and return later with scraps of paper he claimed were money. Mia would eagerly take his earnings and head off to buy ingredients for dinner. More often than not, her cooking pot was nothing more than an empty tomato can, filled with sand, leaves, or whatever else she could find. Yet she treated every meal as though she were preparing a feast for her husband.
Sacha often joined in as well, usually playing the role of their child. Even though she was the oldest of the three, she found their games entertaining and never minded indulging them.
What neither Stan nor Sacha ever realized, however, was just how much those games meant to Mia.
To them, it was simply childish make-believe.
To her, it was everything.
Out of all the games they had ever played together, those little husband-and-wife cooking sessions had always been her favorite. She took them far more seriously than either of them could have imagined, cherishing every moment as though it were something precious and real.
Even now, years later, just remembering them was enough to make her heart race.
Blushing at this memory, Mia flashed her mother a quick, reassuring smile, then grabbed Stan’s wrist with warm, eager fingers. "Come on let’s go!"
They waved goodbye as they stepped out the door.
"Take care, Mum! We’ll be back soon!" Mia called over her shoulder, her voice light and playful.
Outside, the afternoon sun bathed the quiet residential street in a golden hue. The air was fresh, carrying the faint scent of blooming flowers from neighboring gardens and distant cooking smells. Stan’s matte-black Huracán still sat conspicuously at the curb, but Mia ignored it completely.
"Do you really want to walk?" Stan asked, glancing toward the car. "I can take you anywhere in it. Comfortably."
Mia nudged his shoulder with hers, her full, curved body brushing warmly against his arm for a moment.
The spaghetti-strap gown shifted with the movement, accentuating the generous swell of her breasts and the dramatic flare of her hips. "No, Stan. I can’t spend real quality time with you trapped in a car. Let’s just walk. I have a surprise waiting for you at the end of this route before we head back."
"Alright, Mia," he said softly, falling into step beside her. Her fingers stayed loosely linked with his wrist, a gentle, possessive touch that sent a quiet thrill through him.
They walked side by side down the tree-lined streets of the neighborhood. The modest houses gave way to wider sidewalks shaded by old acacias and jacarandas.
Birds chirped overhead, and a light breeze rustled leaves, carrying the nostalgic scent of childhood summers.
Mia’s braided hair swayed with each step, occasionally brushing Stan’s shoulder. Their pace was unhurried, perfectly matched, two old souls rediscovering rhythm after years apart.
"Remember how we used to race down these kinds of streets?" Mia asked, her voice soft with memory. "You’d always let me win at the end, even though you were faster."
Stan chuckled, low and warm. "Only because you’d cry if you lost. And then your dad would come out pretending to scold me for making his princess sad." He glanced at her, noting the way emotion flickered across her face at the mention of her father. "Feels good to walk like this again. No rush. Just us."
Mia’s grip on his wrist tightened slightly, her eyes shimmering. "It does. I used to dream about this, just walking with you, talking about nothing and everything. After you disappeared... I’d walk these paths alone sometimes, imagining you were beside me." Her voice thickened with pronounced emotion, a blend of lingering sadness and overwhelming happiness. "I never stopped hoping you’d come back, Stan. Not once."
He slowed his steps, turning to face her more directly. His free hand came up to gently cup her cheek, thumb brushing away a stray tear that had escaped. "I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere. These nine years... they sucked, but they led me back to you. To this."
The air between them grew charged, tender, romantic, laced with the subtle heat of her body so close to his.
Mia leaned into his touch, her full breasts rising with a deep, emotional breath. "You always know what to say to make my heart feel full again."
They continued walking, sharing lighter stories, silly childhood memories, updates on old neighbors, and even cursed the wicked landlord together, Stan’s guarded glimpses into his new life without revealing too much.
Mia laughed freely, the sound bright and infectious, her curves swaying naturally with each animated gesture.
Stan found himself stealing glances at her insane figure, the way the gown clung to her thick thighs and heavy chest, but mostly he was captivated by the pure joy radiating from her.
Eventually, the path opened into a small, charming local park.
Stan’s eyes widened as he took it in, lush green lawns, scattered benches, tall trees forming a canopy, and in the center, a classic playground with swings, slides, and seesaws. It wasn’t the exact same park from their childhood, but the echoes were unmistakable.
"Is this the surprise, Mia?" he asked, a boyish grin spreading across his face.
"Yes, Stan," she replied, beaming with anticipation. "Though it’s different from the one we played in, it still feels just like old times. Come on!" She tightened her hold on his wrist and pulled him forward eagerly. Stan followed without resistance, her excitement infectious.
Mia led him straight to the swing set, the chains gleaming softly in the fading afternoon light. She slipped into one of the rubber seats, her generous hips and thighs filling it snugly, the hem of her gown riding up slightly to reveal smooth, toned skin.
She gripped the chains, looking over her shoulder at him with sparkling, pleading eyes. "Push me, Stan? It’s been so long since I’ve done this. Make me go high, like you used to."
Stan positioned himself behind her, his large hands settling on the small of her back, warm, steady, and strong. "Hold on tight, crybaby."
He gave her a gentle push first, then stronger ones, building momentum.
Whoosh!
Mia’s laughter rang out clear and free as the swing soared higher and higher, her braided hair flying behind her, the wind pressing the thin fabric of her gown against her full breasts and curves in a way that was both innocent and undeniably alluring.
Higher she went, legs kicking out joyfully, the chains creaking rhythmically. "Higher, Stan! Don’t hold back!" she called, her voice full of delight and trust.
He obliged, his pushes firm and controlled, muscles flexing under his shirt. Each time she swung back toward him, he caught the briefest glimpse of her flushed, ecstatic face, eyes bright with unshed happy tears, lips parted in laughter.
The moment felt profoundly romantic: the golden light filtering through the trees, the two of them recreating a piece of their lost childhood while building something new and deeper.
Stan’s heart swelled with affection, the earlier system revelation of her 110 favourability making every laugh, every glance from her feel heavier with meaning.
After several exhilarating minutes, Mia’s laughter softened into contented sighs. "Okay... okay, that’s enough,"
she said breathlessly as the swing slowed. Stan caught the chains gently, bringing her to a stop. She leaned back against him for a moment, her back pressing warmly into his chest, the soft weight of her body a perfect fit.
They stood there in comfortable silence for a while, catching their breath, the park quiet around them except for distant birdsong. The emotions hung thick and sweet, nostalgia, healing joy, budding desire.
As they began walking back toward the house, hand in hand now, Mia glanced up at him, her expression soft and searching. "What do you think, Stan?"
He squeezed her hand, pulling her a little closer so their arms brushed with every step. "It was really good. I had fun, more than I’ve had in a long time. Thank you for this, Mia. For bringing us back here... for reminding me what it feels like to just be with someone who knows me."
Her eyes shimmered again, but this time with pure, radiant happiness. "Me too. Being with you like this... it feels like coming home."
****
A/N:
What do you guys think of the Chapters so far...
