It was Sunday.
Sara was already up. Kairo and Zayn were still lost in dreams, Zayn sleeping on his father's chest, their breaths syncing without even realizing it. That sight alone made Sara's heart melt.
She smiled, tucking the blanket around them before heading to the kitchen. She wanted to cook something herself today, just a simple breakfast, something warm and homemade. The faint sound of chopping and the sizzle of butter soon filled the space.
But before she could stir the pan again, a pair of strong arms wrapped around her from behind, pulling her close.
"Morning, wifey," a low, husky whisper brushed against her ear.
A shiver ran down her spine; her legs almost gave way. Her heart skipped a beat, maybe two.
Kairo chuckled softly at her reaction, his lips brushing against her cheek again. "You're up early. It's Sunday," he murmured, his voice still heavy with sleep.
Sara swallowed, trying to steady her breath. "I… wanted to cook something," she said, her voice small.
He tightened his hold, chin resting on her shoulder. "Damn… my wife is cooking for us? How did I get this lucky?"
She rolled her eyes, trying to hide her smile. "I was cooking for myself."
He grinned against her skin. "Good. You should eat enough, because my breakfast is you, darling."
"Hot meal," he whispered.
Sara froze, eyes widening. Her stomach twisted, breath hitching. She turned towards him. His messy hair, half-lidded green eyes, that teasing smirk, God, Sara, control yourself, she thought, but her pulse was already betraying her.
Kairo tilted his head slightly, his lips curving. "If you want to kiss me, then do it already," he whispered. "Don't stare at me like a hungry lioness… it makes me go crazy."
Sara gasped, her cheeks heating instantly.
He just chuckled, turning her around effortlessly and lifting her onto the counter. His hands slid down from her waist to her lower hip, holding her still as his eyes darkened, that same look that used to make her heart race years ago.
His green eyes burned into her, stripping her defenses one by one. Her breath hitched, chest rising and falling in uneven rhythm. His gaze flickered down for a second, over her trembling lips, her heaving chest, before locking back onto her eyes.
"You want me, soda glass?" he murmured, his voice low, rough, teasingly familiar, the same tone he'd once used when he'd pinned her to the wall that day in the dark alley.
Her throat tightened; words refused to come. The air between them pulsed with that old pull, dangerous, magnetic, impossible to ignore. He leaned closer, his breath brushing her lips.
"Why hold back, darling?" he whispered, voice almost a plea. "I'm all yours. Take me. Kiss me. Claim me."
And that was all it took. Sara's control was shattered. She grabbed him by the nape and crashed her lips against his, kissing him like she'd been starving for it. Every ounce of longing, every sleepless night, poured into that kiss.
He met her with the same hunger, hands finding their way to her waist, her back, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. Breathless, desperate, lost in each other.
Her lips began their own trail, over his jaw, down his neck, soft, open-mouthed kisses that drew a deep shiver from him. His head tilted back, surrendering to her, a quiet sigh escaping his lips, completely lost in her.
But just as she was about to kiss him again, she froze. Her eyes darted toward the doorway.Her whole body stiffened.
"Kairo…" she whispered, breath trembling.
"Hmmm?" he asked, still dazed.
"Someone's here," she muttered.
Kairo turned, and his entire expression changed. Standing a few feet away, watching them, was Charles.
Kairo's father.
Kairo instantly pulled Sara closer, shielding her behind him. His voice dropped low, sharp. "What are you doing here?"
Charles walked inside calmly, as if he hadn't just interrupted something. "I came to see my son and his family," he said, settling onto the couch like he owned the place.
"You're not invited," Kairo snapped. "Didn't I tell you I don't want you meeting my family?"
Charles leaned back, unbothered. "And yet, here I am."
Kairo's jaw clenched as he walked toward him, fury simmering beneath the surface. "This is my house. I built it for my family. You're not welcome here."
Charles ignored his tone. His gaze shifted to Sara, who was standing behind Kairo, her head slightly lowered.
"You're his wife?" Charles asked.
Sara glanced at Kairo, then nodded quietly. "Yes."
Charles tilted his head. "May I know why you married him?"
Kairo's temper flared instantly. "You don't need to know that. We love each other. That's reason enough."
Charles smirked faintly. "Didn't he betray you once?"
Kairo's chest tightened, breath faltering.
Charles smirked. "He got you pregnant, then disappeared, and after years came back, and you just accepted him that easily?" he said sharply.
Sara looked down, hurt by how he was digging up the past again. Kairo clenched his fists, anger rising.
"That was the past," Sara said quietly but firmly. "He didn't know I was pregnant back then. When he found out the truth, he didn't run away; he regretted everything. He apologized, and even though I haven't completely forgiven him, he took responsibility for our child. He married me and takes care of us. He's not the same person anymore. He's been a wonderful husband and a loving father."
Charles's expression softened slightly, though he didn't admit it. He looked at Kairo, then back at her. "And you're sure he won't betray you again?" he asked.
"Dad," Kairo growled, clearly losing patience.
Sara met his gaze head-on. "Why are you so concerned about our relationship, sir?"
Charles blinked, taken aback by her tone.
"Are you not happy to see us together?" she continued softly.
Charles sighed, leaning back on the couch. "I wanted to marry him to one of my business friends' daughters," he admitted. "But he told me he's already married. So I wanted to see if that was true or if he was playing some kind of trick."
Sara gently squeezed Kairo's hand.
"Now that you've seen us, you can leave," Kairo said firmly.
But before Charles could respond, a tiny voice echoed from behind.
"Mumma…"
Zayn walked into the room, rubbing his sleepy eyes. Before Kairo could reach him, Charles picked the little boy up and placed him on his lap. Zayn looked at him with his tired green eyes.
Charles chuckled softly. "Same eyes… " he murmured. "She left… but her legacy didn't."
Kairo glared at his father, but Charles didn't seem to notice. Zayn squirmed in his lap, trying to get down.
"Wait a second, little one," Charles said, holding him gently. "What's your name?"
Zayn glanced at Sara, and when she gave a small nod, he answered quietly, "Zayn."
"Zayn? What a beautiful name." Charles smiled.
"Do you know who I am?" Charles asked with a warm smile.
Zayn shook his head. "No. Who are you?"
Charles smiled again. "I'm your grandfather, my boy."
Kairo's chest tightened at how kindly his father spoke to Zayn, the words, the softness, he had never experienced himself.
"Grandfather? What's that?" Zayn asked curiously.
Charles chuckled. "I'm your father's father."
Zayn looked between Kairo and Sara. Sara gave him a gentle nod.
Charles smiled again. "From now on, you can call me Grandpa, okay?"
Zayn nodded, still a little confused, then wiggled off his lap and ran straight to Sara.
Zayn looked unsure but nodded anyway before squirming out of his arms and running toward Sara. She picked him up instantly, holding him close.
Charles sat there, watching them quietly, this little family that his son had built.
He sighed softly, stood up, straightened his coat, and said, "Alright. I'm leaving. I just came to meet my daughter-in-law and grandson."
As he turned to leave, Sara spoke suddenly."Stay."
Both men looked at her.
"Have lunch with us," she said, her voice gentle but sincere.
Charles gave a small, surprised chuckle. "Maybe Next time," he said, glancing at Kairo. "Today, I'm not invited here."
And with that, he walked out.
Kairo stood there for a long moment, staring at the door, his chest tight with a storm of emotions he couldn't name: anger, guilt, and maybe… something else.
Sara came beside him, gently resting her hand on his arm. Zayn clung to her shoulder, watching them both curiously.
Kairo finally sighed, wrapping an arm around her. "He never changes."
Sara smiled faintly. "Maybe not. But you did."
Kairo looked at her then, really looked at her, and for a brief moment, the weight in his chest eased.