Chapter 10: The Perfect Life (Part 5)

Later that night, Pete and Popuri strolled back to their home under the soft glow of the moonlight, their hands intertwined as they recounted the day's festivities. The cool night air carried the faint scent of flowers, a lingering reminder of the festival they had just left behind.

"I can't believe how much fun that was," Pete said, his tone filled with genuine delight. "Especially the dance. I didn't think I'd enjoy it so much, but… I really did."

They shared a laugh as they reached the front gate of their farm. The familiar sight of their home, warm and inviting under the stars, greeted them like an old friend. Pete felt a deep sense of contentment wash over him as he opened the door, holding it for Popuri as she stepped inside.

"I think this was one of the best days I've had in a long time," he admitted, his voice softer now.

Popuri smiled warmly, her eyes sparkling. "Then let's make every day like this, Pete. Together."

Pete nodded, feeling his heart swell with gratitude. "Yeah… together."

Popuri suddenly wobbled and collapsed onto the floor, clutching her belly. Pete's heart stopped as he rushed to her side, panic taking over.

"Popuri! What's wrong? Are you hurt? Talk to me!" he begged, his voice trembling.

She gave him a reassuring smile, though her face was pale. "I'm fine," she said softly. "I think I just overdid it a little bit at the festival. Don't worry, the baby is fine."

Pete blinked, relief flooding him. "That's good, I was just—" His eyes widened as her words finally sank in. "Wait... THE BABY!?" His voice wavered. "Popuri, you're… pregnant?"

Popuri looked at him, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Pete, of course I'm pregnant. You were right there when the midwife told us last week. Did you hit your head or something?"

Pete stared at her, his mind spinning. He knew nothing about the pregnancy, but his other self—the one who Popuri married—flashed in his mind. He scrambled for a response, forcing a shaky laugh. "Oh, right. I guess the festival must've worn me out too, huh?"

Popuri smiled, her confusion easing. "You're such a goof sometimes." She cupped his cheek gently. "You were so happy when we found out. You said you couldn't wait to teach the baby how to plant crops and take care of animals."

Pete's heart ached with emotions he didn't fully understand. He smiled back at her, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Of course. I'm just… so excited."

Popuri leaned into him, her voice soft. "I know. Me too. We're going to be great parents."

Pete nodded, a whirlwind of feelings swirling in his chest. "Yeah, we will."

But as he helped her up and walked her to the bed to rest, one thought echoed in his mind—"I'll make sure this life, this reality, stays perfect for you and the baby."

The following day, after finishing their chores on the farm, Pete and Popuri made their way to the Flowerbud Church. The old stone building stood tall, its stained glass windows catching the sunlight and casting colorful patterns onto the path leading to the entrance. Popuri clung to Pete's arm as they walked, her steps slow and deliberate, a gentle smile on her face.

Inside the church, the air was cool and filled with the faint scent of incense. The wooden pews gleamed under the soft light streaming through the windows. Pastor Brown, a middle-aged man with kind eyes and a warm demeanor, approached them. Dressed in his black clerical clothing, he greeted them with a smile.

"Pete, Popuri, what brings you here today?" he asked, his voice calm and welcoming.

Popuri returned his smile. "Pastor Brown, I wanted to pray for a safe delivery and a healthy baby."

Pastor Brown's eyes lit up with genuine joy. "A baby? That's wonderful news! Congratulations to both of you." He gestured toward the altar at the front of the church. "Please, come with me."

He led them down the aisle, past the rows of pews, and stopped at the ornately carved altar adorned with fresh flowers and candles. The faint hum of prayer echoed softly through the church as a few villagers knelt in silent reverence.

Popuri stepped forward, her hands clasped together, and bowed her head. Pastor Brown offered a quiet prayer, his words filled with warmth and hope. Pete stood beside Popuri, his own head bowed, stealing glances at his wife as she prayed. Her serene expression filled him with a sense of peace.

When the prayer ended, Pastor Brown smiled warmly. "May the blessings of God be upon you both. And may your child bring joy and love to your lives."

"Thank you, Pastor," Popuri said, her voice filled with gratitude.

As Pastor Brown stepped away to tend to other parishioners, Pete turned to Popuri, gently taking her hand in his. His expression was thoughtful, his brow furrowed slightly as he asked, "Popuri, do you really believe in God?"

Popuri looked up at him, her pink hair catching the faint light filtering through the stained glass. She nodded with quiet confidence, her gaze warm and unwavering. "Of course I do," she said softly. Then, with a nostalgic smile, she added, "Don't you remember? God sent an angel to us when we were kids."

Pete blinked, confused by her words. "An angel?" he repeated, searching his memory for anything that might explain what she was talking about.

Popuri's smile widened as she began to recount the story, her voice filled with wonder. "It was the day I fell off the mountain, Pete. I was so scared—I thought it was the end. But then, out of nowhere, a man jumped from a tree and caught me. He saved my life. I barely had time to thank him before he vanished, just like that."

Pete's stomach tightened as he listened, memories of the strange dream—or was it a vision?—from the day Rick's teleportation device malfunctioned came rushing back. "You mean… the man just disappeared?" he asked carefully, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Popuri nodded eagerly. "Yes, it was like he came out of nowhere just to save me. I was sure then, and I'm sure now—he wasn't just a man. He was an angel sent by God to protect me."

Pete swallowed hard, his thoughts spinning as he tried to process her words. Could it be true? Could Rick's invention have sent him back in time to that pivotal moment? Had it been intentional—a supernatural force guiding him to correct a mistake and rewrite history? Or was it all just an accident, a miscalculation in Rick's experimental device that had thrown him into the past at precisely the right moment?

The possibilities were overwhelming. Pete couldn't shake the feeling that something greater was at play, that the chain of events leading to this perfect new reality wasn't entirely random. He glanced at Popuri, her serene expression glowing with faith and contentment, and felt a deep warmth settle over him.

Regardless of the "how" or the "why," one thing was certain: his life was perfect now. The pain of his old reality, the grief, the loneliness—they felt like distant shadows compared to the vibrant life he shared with Popuri. If fate—or some higher power—had given him a second chance, he wasn't going to waste it.

Popuri squeezed his hand, bringing him back to the present. "I know it sounds unbelievable, but I felt it, Pete. There's no other explanation for it. God works in mysterious ways."

Pete nodded slowly, though his thoughts swirled with uncertainty. If the man she remembered saving her was him—his alternate self that suffered from grief and loneliness—what did that mean for the reality he now found himself in? What about the other Pete who was her husband all this time? He feels that he will never know.

At home, the quiet hum of the evening filled the air as Pete and Popuri prepared for bed. Pete sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed on Popuri as she stood at the mirror, brushing her long pink hair with practiced grace. Each stroke of the brush seemed to capture the light, her hair shimmering softly like silk.

A wave of emotion surged within him, unexpected and overwhelming. His chest tightened, and tears began to form in his eyes. The enormity of the gift he had been given—a second chance at life, love, and family—was almost too much to bear.

Popuri noticed his reflection in the mirror, her brush stilling mid-stroke. Turning to face him, she tilted her head with concern, her soft voice cutting through the silence. "Pete, what's wrong?"

He shook his head, a small, trembling smile playing on his lips. "Nothing," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm just… happy. So happy that it hurts."

Popuri's expression softened, and she walked over to him, placing her hand gently on his cheek. "Well, then, I'm happy you're happy," she said with a sweet, understanding smile.

Pete leaned into her touch, his tears falling freely now, not out of sadness but from the overwhelming joy of a life he never thought he'd have. A life that, despite its mysteries, felt absolutely perfect.

Popuri climbed into bed beside Pete, her delicate frame sinking into the soft sheets. She leaned over and kissed him gently, her lips warm and full of affection. Settling back onto her pillow, she tilted her head to look up at him, her pink hair fanning out like a halo. Pete still gazed at her with an expression of pure joy, his heart full.

"Can we plant the Blue Mist Flower tomorrow?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with a childlike excitement that made Pete's chest tighten with love.

"Of course," Pete replied, his voice steady but warm.

Popuri's lips curved into a smile, her eyes fluttering closed as a contented sigh escaped her. Pete continued to watch her for a moment, marveling at the peace that now filled his life. Then, as the room grew quieter, he lay back against his own pillow, the thought of planting the flower with her tomorrow making him look forward to the morning.