My Handsome Uncle, please be mine!

Part 1

Joe Sebastian, a 35-year-old man, was feeling sad because of his wife's recent divorce petition in religious court. He continued to consume the alcoholic drinks in front of him.

One by one, the alcohol bottles became empty, but Joe still felt the emptiness in his heart. In an apartment unit, Joe isolated himself for two days, not going to work, not seeing his daughter, and even forgetting to send money to Clara.

Yes, Clara was a poor girl entrusted to Joe by her parents ten years ago. At that time, Joe was a colleague of Devano and Cella. Clara's parents had died in a multi-car accident. Since then, Joe felt responsible for Clara. For ten years, Joe had taken care of Clara, providing her education, pocket money, and buying her clothes. Not only that, Joe had promised himself to continue taking care of Clara until she married a man of her choice.

The doorbell rang.

Joe remained motionless.

The doorbell rang for the second time.

Joe had to get up from his seat. He walked wearily toward the door, feeling annoyed about who could be disturbing him.

"Who dares to disturb me?" Joe shouted as he pulled the door handle.

Clara fell silent, startled. This was the first time she had been scolded by Joe, someone she highly respected.

"I...I'm sorry, Uncle," Clara whispered, taking a step back.

"Oh, it's you. Come in!" Joe said, trying to control his emotions.

"No, Uncle, I can come back later or tomorrow," Clara said shakily, not expecting to receive such a scary shout from the authoritative man.

"Come in, don't argue. It's the beginning of the month, and you need to get your pocket money; otherwise, you'll go hungry during lunchtime!" Joe said flatly. He roughly rubbed his face, trying to refresh his vision.

Joe opened the door wide for Clara to enter.

Clara followed, walking slowly, tracking Joe's every step. She glanced around the room; it was still 2 p.m., but the curtains were closed. The room's lights were turned off, creating a gloomy atmosphere. Only a small amount of sunlight filtered through the slightly open curtains.

"Uncle, are you okay?" Clara asked softly, glancing at her wrist to confirm that it was still 2 p.m.

"Yes, I'm fine. Why do you ask?" Joe replied with his characteristic deep voice.

"Let me stay longer here; I'll clean up this place. After that, I'll leave," Clara said. She walked to the curtains, opening them one by one to allow more light to enter the room. She also opened the ventilation to reduce the stuffiness.

Joe took a quick look and saw no reason to object. He let Clara open all the curtains, revealing the messy and dirty state of the table in the middle of the room.

Joe went into the bedroom to find his wallet, took out some money, and put it in an envelope, the same amount as Clara's monthly allowance. Then, he returned to the living room.

"This is your pocket money," Joe said, placing the brown envelope on the table. Then, he reclined on the sofa.

Clara glanced at the cluttered table. There were several empty alcohol bottles scattered around, dirty and disordered glasses, many cigarette butts, and scattered matchsticks.

Clara swallowed her saliva and shook her head softly. She decided to clean the table.

"You can go home; I can handle it myself," Joe said firmly.

"No, Uncle, I'll leave after cleaning everything," Clara insisted. She started putting the empty bottles into the trash can and took the dirty glasses to the nearby kitchen.

Joe got up from his seat, supporting his face with both hands.

"My marriage is about to end, my dear Vivian! Why did you choose your career and Kimmy Olivia, our little daughter, over me?" Joe murmured, and tears began to moisten his cheeks. The impending divorce was a heavy burden for Joe, who still loved his wife deeply.

Meanwhile, Clara had finished washing all the glasses and had tidied up the table.

"Thank you, Uncle," she said while taking the envelope with her money. She saw the mature man sitting with his head hung low on the sofa.

Joe just nodded, his face showing no signs of relief.

"Wait a minute, is Uncle Joe crying?" Clara asked, walking over to Joe.

Joe didn't answer; he chose to look away. He felt weak in front of Clara, something he had always avoided.

"So, is what I read in the online media true?" Clara asked, sitting next to Joe. She didn't want to leave him alone.

"What do you know?" Joe stood up from his seat and walked to the balcony.

Clara followed, matching the steps of the mature man she admired so much. Even when he was just standing and breathing, Joe looked handsome.

"Aunt Vivian's divorce has been reported in the media, Uncle," Clara said, standing next to him and looking down, following Joe's gaze.

"So, you already know, Clara,"

"Yes, Uncle, I hope you won't be too sad,"

"I'm not sad; it's just that I still love Vivian very much," Joe lamented honestly.

"Stay strong, Uncle," Clara consoled him.

Hearing Joe's lament, Clara felt sad as well. Even though she had felt relieved when she heard about the divorce, she realized that this was her chance to get closer to Joe.

"I'm going to see my daughter. You should go back to the dorm now," Joe instructed.

"Alright, Uncle," Clara complied, turning and leaving the room. She was looking forward to her monthly meetings with Joe, even though they only happened once a month.

"Uncle, don't be sad. If Aunt Vivian doesn't want to live with you until old age, maybe one day you'll meet another woman who loves you sincerely," Clara said firmly.

"I am that woman, Uncle. I love you sincerely. Wait for me, Uncle; I will grow up and become a beautiful woman for you. There's no doubt; I also have genuine love for you," Clara thought to herself as she walked out of the room. At some point, she didn't know when, but at the age of 17, she realized one thing: she missed her meetings with Joe Sebastian, even though they only happened once a month.

To be continued