Watching father and son go wash their hands together, Laila couldn't help but laugh as she recalled little Eli's earlier expression.
The kid was really smart—Roy had done a great job raising him. Maybe it was because he was biracial, but Eli was remarkably sharp for his age. He could already speak a lot of words, and his thinking was sometimes more advanced than that of children two or three years older.
Aside from his reluctance to smile, he was definitely a child to be proud of.
Laila often wondered who this little guy took after in terms of personality.
Roy was outgoing and friendly with just about anyone, anywhere in the world. And she herself wasn't exactly a difficult person to get along with either. So how did Eli end up with such a "CEO face" right from birth?
Later that night, after they had coaxed Eli to sleep, Roy and Laila sat on the bed chatting.
"There's only a week left until the wedding," Roy said, holding one of her hands and placing it over his heart. "Are you ready?"
Laila leaned against him. "I don't even know. It just feels like... we've already been an old married couple for ages, and now we're finally getting married?"
Roy's grip on her hand tightened, his tone suddenly tense. "You're not thinking of backing out, are you?"
"Of course not!" Laila quickly denied it, slightly guilty. "We've come this far—of course, we're getting married."
It's just... she didn't really have that many feelings about marriage itself.
In her past life, she had remained single well into her thirties. In this life, she already had a beautiful family, a boyfriend who loved her deeply, and a sweet little boy named Eli. It was far beyond anything she had dared to hope for. So what difference did a marriage certificate really make to her?
But she knew how much Roy was looking forward to the wedding. There was no way she would suddenly back out.
Funny thing was, despite having spent years adapting to Western ways of living, in some areas she still held onto Eastern habits. Yet when it came to marriage, she found herself leaning toward a more Western mindset.
Roy looked at her. "If we weren't getting married now, would we have ever gotten married?"
Laila sighed internally. There he goes again.
She knew she had triggered one of his insecurity switches. This man... could he have just a little more confidence in her?
"Of course not!" She climbed into his lap and cupped his face with both hands. "We've been together for so long—don't you know me by now? Look into my eyes. Do you think I'm brushing you off?"
Her icy blue eyes, in Roy's view, were the purest, clearest color in the world. He knew those same eyes could lie to others without batting an eyelash—but when they looked at him, he just couldn't bring himself to doubt her sincerity.
"I'm sorry… I was overthinking again."
He kissed her eyes, apologizing for the sensitivity he couldn't quite shake.
But he couldn't help it.
The closer the wedding day came, the more anxious he became.
Even though he was busy every day with wedding preparations, the moment his mind quieted down, it would spiral into chaotic thoughts.
His friends said it was just "pre-wedding jitters." Maybe they were right.
But Roy knew—it wasn't fear of getting married that haunted him. It was the fear that the wedding might not happen at all.
He loved Laila deeply, to the point that he would give his life for her. Being with her was already the greatest blessing of his life. He just wasn't sure whether he was lucky enough for her to become his wife.
What if she met someone better?
What if one day she realized he wasn't good enough for her?
What if, on the day of the wedding, she realized she was in love with someone else?
He never let those thoughts show in front of her.
He didn't want to burden her with his insecurities or let her see how vulnerable he was.
Sometimes, even he thought he was overthinking things. Eli was growing up right in front of him—wasn't that proof enough? For a woman like Laila to bear his child—wasn't that already a testament of her love and trust?
He knew all that, but his brain wouldn't stop spinning. A single offhand comment from Laila could poke right into his anxiety, making him crave reassurance.
What he didn't know was that everything he thought he was hiding so well, Laila could read as clearly as if it were written on his face.
After all, just like he knew her inside out—how could she not understand him?
No matter how good an actor someone was, they couldn't completely hide their microexpressions.
And the most telling sign of all was always the eyes.
That fleeting flash of emotion in a glance—someone who knew you well could see it instantly.
So yes, Laila had seen his unease.
She could feel the emptiness gnawing at his heart.
His childhood had left him deeply conflicted. On one hand, he hated his parents for abandoning him and his brother. On the other hand, he desperately longed for a real family. That was why he had always been so eager to marry her, why he had cried with joy the moment Eli was born.
But that same childhood trauma had also left him terrified that happiness could disappear in an instant.
His father's imprisonment, his mother's disappearance, the empty home with its open door—all of it had left scars.
And now that Laila and Eli meant everything to him, his fear of losing them only grew stronger.
Laila understood that.
That's why she agreed to the wedding in the first place.
Otherwise, their current life—already full of happiness—was more than enough for her.
Seeing how she had accidentally touched on that old wound again, she could only soothe him the best way she knew how—through a long, sweaty round of "exercise."
A satisfied man wouldn't have the energy to overthink, right?
That was her secret weapon. It always worked. And the best part?
She thoroughly enjoyed it too.
Just one more week.
Once she became his wife, she'd slowly begin to heal that old hurt in his heart.
The next morning, Laila was rudely awakened by her mother.
"You're still asleep? Get up already!" Janet's voice rang out from above as she slapped her daughter's arm.
Laila blinked groggily, unable to open her eyes. "Mom? What are you doing here? What time is it?"
"What time do you think?" Janet snapped, cradling her beloved grandson. "It's almost nine! Now hurry up and get ready. We've got a ton to do today!"
Laila slowly sat up, rubbing her waist with both hands.
Roy had trained in martial arts—he had stamina.
Last night had gone on way too long, and now she'd overslept again.
Good thing she was the boss—any employee who showed up this late every few days would've long been blacklisted and fired.
"What are we doing today?" she asked, ruffling her messy hair.
She couldn't remember making any plans with her mom.
Had she forgotten something again?