Chapter: When a Dream Finally Found the Screen
The atmosphere surrounding Joseph and Mary was completely different from that of Mike's family.
After leaving the hospital, they drove home quietly beneath the fading evening sky.
The city of Lagos remained lively as ever. Yellow buses fought for space on the road while roadside vendors called out to the last customers of the day. Office workers hurried home carrying bags, and motorcycles weaved effortlessly between cars.
Inside the vehicle, however...
Silence reigned.
Neither Joseph nor Mary spoke.
John's pale face lying unconscious beneath the white hospital blanket lingered stubbornly in both their minds.
Although Dr. Leo had assured them that John waking briefly before drifting back to sleep was a normal reaction to the anesthesia and pain medication, neither of them could truly relax.
Sometimes medical explanations comforted the mind...
But never the heart.
By the time they arrived at their quiet residential estate, the orange sunset had almost disappeared.
Joseph parked the car before both stepped out.
Just then, the neighboring door opened.
Esther stood outside with a phone pressed against her ear. She was dressed in a loose cream sweater and black leggings, her curly hair tied into a messy bun. The moment she noticed the couple, she ended the call.
Unlike her usual playful smile filled with neighborhood gossip...
Tonight, her expression carried genuine concern.
"You two are back."
Mary smiled weakly.
"We are."
Esther looked between them.
"How is John?"
Joseph answered honestly.
"He regained consciousness for a short while... then fell asleep again."
Relief softened Esther's features.
"At least that's progress."
"It is."
"I'll continue praying."
Mary nodded gratefully.
"Thank you."
Esther didn't ask another question.
She simply smiled before returning into her own house.
Sometimes...
Knowing when not to ask more was also a form of kindness.
Joseph unlocked the front door.
The familiar warmth of home immediately embraced them.
Soft yellow lights illuminated the living room. The faint fragrance of lavender from Mary's diffuser lingered gently in the air, while the ticking wall clock echoed quietly through the peaceful house.
After spending an entire day surrounded by hospital machines and antiseptic smells...
Home felt almost unreal.
Joseph closed the door before turning toward Mary.
"You look exhausted."
Mary smiled tiredly.
"I am."
The emotional stress of the day combined with her eight-month pregnancy had drained almost every ounce of energy from her body.
She unconsciously rested a hand beneath her swollen stomach.
Joseph walked over and gently squeezed her shoulder.
"You go upstairs."
"I'll make dinner first."
"No."
His tone remained gentle but firm.
"You've done enough today."
"I can still—"
"You'll take a warm bath."
"And I'll cook."
Mary stared at him for a few seconds before finally laughing softly.
"You've become bossy."
"I learned from John."
That earned another smile.
"Fine."
She slowly climbed the staircase, taking each careful step with patience.
Joseph watched until she disappeared upstairs.
Only then did he finally release a long breath.
He loosened his tie.
Removed his suit jacket.
Dropped it neatly onto the couch before sinking into the cushions.
His eyes closed.
His thoughts drifted back toward Mike.
Although they had exchanged very little conversation...
Joseph had observed him carefully.
He had seen Mike countless times before through business magazines, televised conferences, newspaper interviews and annual reports.
Meeting him in person, however...
Was entirely different.
The man never panicked.
Never shouted.
Never cried.
Yet every glance toward John's hospital bed carried a father's fear.
Every question directed at Dr. Leo revealed careful attention.
Every answer was memorized immediately.
Joseph quietly rubbed his forehead.
"He really loves him..."
he murmured softly.
After sitting silently for another minute, he forced himself up.
"Dinner won't cook itself."
Inside the kitchen, Joseph tied an apron around his waist.
Tonight's menu was intentionally light.
Fresh noodles.
Pan-fried pork.
Steamed vegetables.
Clear soup.
Nothing oily.
Nothing spicy.
Nothing that would upset Mary's stomach.
His knife moved confidently over the chopping board.
Garlic.
Spring onions.
Carrots.
Cabbage.
The rhythmic chopping gradually calmed his restless thoughts.
Oil crackled softly inside the frying pan.
The aroma of garlic quickly filled the kitchen before the sweet fragrance of onions joined it.
Soon the smell of sizzling pork spread throughout the entire house.
Cooking had always been strangely therapeutic.
Unlike business...
Food never lied.
Either it tasted good...
Or it didn't.
Before long, dinner was ready.
Joseph reached for three bowls automatically.
His hands paused.
He stared quietly.
Three.
Not two.
He had prepared John's portion without realizing it.
A bitter smile slowly appeared.
"...Habit."
Every evening John occupied the same chair.
Complaining the vegetables were too healthy.
Complaining the soup lacked pepper.
Complaining Joseph cooked like somebody's grandmother.
Yet somehow...
He never left a single grain of rice behind.
Joseph lowered his eyes.
Without saying anything, he quietly divided the third serving equally between his own bowl and Mary's.
The empty chair remained untouched.
Mary came downstairs after bathing.
She had changed into a loose sky-blue maternity dress with soft slippers.
Her damp hair rested neatly over one shoulder.
"You finished already?"
Joseph smiled.
"You underestimated me."
She approached the dining table.
The moment she noticed there were only two bowls...
Her eyes paused briefly.
She understood.
Neither of them mentioned it.
Some absences spoke loudly enough on their own.
Dinner passed peacefully.
Neither forced conversation.
Neither pretended everything was fine.
Sometimes sharing silence with someone you loved was enough.
Afterward Mary insisted on washing the dishes.
"You cooked."
"I'll clean."
Joseph surrendered without argument before heading upstairs to shower.
When he came back wearing comfortable grey sweatpants and a loose black T-shirt, Mary was already waiting in the living room.
The television had been switched on.
Joseph blinked.
Then suddenly remembered.
"...Today."
Mary smiled.
"The premiere."
His eyes widened slightly.
He had completely forgotten.
Today...
The first episode of Twinkle Twinkle was finally airing nationwide.
Originally, the production committee had planned to release the television adaptation almost three months later.
Everything had already been completed.
Filming.
Editing.
Background music.
Visual effects.
Sound mixing.
Quality inspections.
Even the television station had reserved a later broadcasting schedule.
Then...
Everything changed.
John Bello's name suddenly exploded across social media.
His charity visit to the orphanage.
The viral princess-carry incident.
Magazine interviews.
His growing popularity as both businessman and novelist.
Novel sales increased dramatically.
Bookstores reported shortages.
Online discussions continued every single day.
Better Choice Publishing and We Entertainment (a Media company)quickly recognized the opportunity.
Public attention was unpredictable.
Once the excitement faded...
Recreating that momentum would cost millions in marketing.
After several emergency board meetings, they made a bold decision.
Release Twinkle Twinkle immediately.
It was a huge risk.
If the adaptation disappointed audiences, readers would blame both companies.
Sponsors could withdraw.
Future adaptations might lose credibility.
The actors—many of them newcomers—could also suffer before their careers truly began.
But...
If it succeeded...
Television ratings would soar.
Novel sales would increase again.
Streaming rights could be sold overseas.
The actors would become overnight stars.
And John's reputation as an author would reach an entirely new level.
It was business.
Calculated.
Risky.
Bold.
The board unanimously approved the decision.
Joseph sat beside Mary.
She naturally leaned against his shoulder.
He carefully wrapped one arm around her, mindful of the baby.
The opening theme began.
Gentle piano.
Soft violin.
Then...
The familiar title slowly appeared.
TWINKLE TWINKLE
Both smiled unconsciously.
The first scene unfolded beautifully.
The countryside setting looked exactly as readers had imagined.
Warm sunlight.
Quiet villages.
Simple homes.
The cinematography was elegant without feeling overly dramatic.
The actors surprised both of them.
Most were fresh faces.
Unknown.
Yet their performances felt sincere.
Natural.
Honest.
No exaggerated acting.
No unnecessary shouting.
Just emotions.
Real emotions.
Joseph nodded with satisfaction.
"They respected his novel."
Mary smiled.
"They didn't try changing everything."
"They trusted the original story."
"And that's why it works."
Joseph couldn't help laughing quietly.
"If John were here..."
"He'd complain."
Mary giggled.
"About what?"
"The soundtrack."
"The camera angle."
"The costumes."
"The tea cups."
"The lighting."
Mary laughed harder.
"The tea cups?"
Joseph nodded confidently.
"You know him."
"He'll somehow find fault with tea cups."
Both burst into genuine laughter for the first time that day.
It felt...
Good.
Healing.
For a little while, the heaviness surrounding their hearts lifted.
On the television screen, John's words had transformed into living people.
Scenes that had once existed only inside his imagination now unfolded before millions of viewers across the country.
Years of loneliness.
Countless sleepless nights.
Rejected manuscripts.
Coffee-stained pages.
Sacrifices nobody had witnessed.
Every painful step...
Had finally become something beautiful.
Mary rested her head gently against Joseph's shoulder.
"I wish he could see this."
Joseph stared quietly at the television.
"He will."
His voice was calm.
Certain.
"When he wakes up..."
"We'll start from episode one again."
"And he'll criticize every single scene."
Mary smiled warmly.
"I'd like that."
Joseph smiled too.
"So would I."
Outside, Lagos remained alive beneath thousands of city lights.
Inside their quiet home...
A husband and wife sat close together, watching one man's dream finally breathe upon the screen.
The third seat beside them remained empty.
But neither of them believed it would stay empty forever.