Chapter 22 – Hot Sauce and Mood Storms
Aria stood in the middle of the kitchen, glaring at the fridge like it had personally betrayed her.
"Where is it?" she muttered, yanking open drawers. "I told him not to touch it!"
She slammed the last drawer shut and spun on her heel. "Zola!"
The poor man was just stepping inside with two bags of groceries. "Yes, Miss Lode?"
"Did Kade take the mango-pickle chili dip I specifically told him not to touch?"
Zola blinked, clearly trying to calculate the safest answer. "I… believe Mr. Val mentioned he gave it to his assistant yesterday when she—"
"Unbelievable!" Aria huffed, stomping into the living room, belly protruding proudly beneath her oversized T-shirt. "He knows that was the only thing I could eat yesterday! It's all I think about! And he gives it away? To her?"
Zola wisely said nothing. Instead, he placed the bags on the counter and gently pulled out two jars of a similar mango dip. "I brought these just in case…"
Aria's eyes narrowed.
"Is it imported?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Is it exactly the brand I told you?"
"Yes, Miss."
She grabbed one jar, popped the lid, and dipped her finger in. The moment it hit her tongue, her expression shifted from fury to bliss.
"Oh my God," she whispered. "Okay. You're forgiven."
Zola exhaled in relief.
Six months into pregnancy, Aria's cravings had become unpredictable—ranging from ice cubes dipped in honey to grilled cheese with strawberry jam. And her mood swings? Catastrophic. Kade had once referred to her as "a beautiful landmine," and he wasn't entirely wrong.
She was tired, hot, uncomfortable, and felt like her emotions lived on a roller coaster with no brakes.
That night, Kade dropped by unannounced—though he'd been doing that more often lately. Not to hover, but just… to check in. Sometimes he came with groceries, sometimes with books on pregnancy, sometimes with nothing but his quiet presence.
This time, he came with two things: a paper bag of garlic fries (her newest obsession) and a fan with a remote.
"You look like you're overheating," he said, stepping in.
"I am overheating," she said flatly, lying sideways on the couch, one leg flung over the armrest. "I'm a walking oven."
Kade placed the fries on the table and turned on the fan, adjusting it to aim directly at her.
"That better?" he asked.
"Don't talk. Just… let me breathe."
He chuckled but said nothing, walking into the kitchen to get her a cold drink. She appreciated that he wasn't taking her mood personally. Lately, even she didn't recognize herself.
When he returned, she was already munching on the fries.
"These are actually hot," she said, nodding in approval.
"I had them made fresh."
"Good."
There was a beat of silence. Then, "The assistant didn't even like the mango dip, you know. She gave it back."
Aria shot him a look. "You're lucky I'm too pregnant to throw things."
Kade smiled and sat on the floor in front of her, his eyes softening as they moved to her bump.
"Six months," he said quietly. "We're getting closer."
She shifted. "You say 'we' like we're in this together."
"I hope we are."
His voice wasn't forceful. There was no pressure in his tone, just quiet honesty. And that's what made it hard.
Aria set the fries down and leaned back.
"Kade, I still don't know if I trust you."
"I know."
"You hurt me. Lied to me. I was just another girl to you until I wasn't."
"That's not true," he said gently. "You were never 'just another girl,' Aria. I didn't know how to love anyone properly until I lost you."
She looked away.
"Don't say things just because I'm carrying your child."
"I'm saying them because they're true. With or without the baby."
The silence between them thickened.
Aria closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "I screamed at the doorman this morning because he smiled too much."
Kade tried not to laugh. "He does smile a lot."
"I thought about pouring soy sauce in your shampoo."
He blinked. "Noted."
"I almost cried when the ice cream truck passed by before I could reach it."
"I'll track it down tomorrow."
She cracked a tiny smile despite herself. "I don't even know who I am anymore, Kade."
"You're still Aria," he said softly. "Still strong. Still stubborn. Still the woman I—" He stopped. Adjusted. "Still the woman I admire."
She studied him for a moment.
Kade Val wasn't perfect—not by a long shot. But he was trying. And despite everything, some part of her still wanted to believe he meant every word.
"You're not making it easy for me to hate you," she said, reaching for another fry.
"Good," he murmured.
Later that night, after he left, Aria curled up in bed with the fan whirring beside her. Her stomach shifted as the baby kicked again. She smiled down at her belly.
"I think your father might be growing up."
The baby kicked again—hard.
"Okay, okay. Don't get excited."
And even though her body ached and her moods felt like tidal waves, Aria slept peacefully that night—wrapped in a quiet hope she wasn't quite ready to name.