Days had begun to move differently in the household. The fire and noise that once filled Kairo and Sara's lives had quietened into a slow, tender calm.
Kairo had changed.
The same man who once teased her endlessly, whose shameless flirty remarks used to make her roll her eyes, now carried a gentleness she had never seen before. He was quieter, softer, a man who spoke less but showed more. His hands reached for her not with desire, but with care. His eyes lingered not to claim her, but to make sure she was okay.
The playful boldness in him had been replaced by a steady warmth. He still longed for her touch, that hadn't changed, but now he sought it in silence, with respect, with restraint.
Every morning, he made Zayn's breakfast before heading to work, helped Sara with little things without being asked, and brushed Zayn's hair while Sara got ready. In the evenings, he returned home earlier than usual, helping her with dinner, quietly watching cartoons with Zayn on the couch, or waiting until she'd finish her work to have dinner together.
He didn't try to win her forgiveness with grand gestures or words, just with consistency.
Sara saw it all. She noticed every effort, every small kindness. But her heart, though softening, still carried the weight of what he had done. The anger had dimmed, but the hurt remained, buried deep under her silence.
Some nights she'd catch him watching her with those longing eyes, the same eyes that once hurt her, now only filled with guilt and love. And she'd turn away, pretending not to see. Because she wasn't ready yet, not fully.
Still, the home had started to breathe again. Softer, slower, healing in its own pace.
On the other side, Laina sat in her office cabin, her pen tapping softly against the open file on her desk. The evening sun filtered through the blinds, painting pale stripes across her face.
Her mind wasn't in the meeting agenda spread before her. It hadn't been for days. Every few minutes, her thoughts drifted to Kairo, his face, his eyes when he looked at her that day… so cold, so distant, so much like the child she had once left behind.
The guilt was relentless.
She sighed deeply and reached for her phone. Her fingers hovered over Victor's contact for a moment before she typed.
Laina: Where are you, Vic?
The reply came almost instantly.
Victor: Wrapping up the meeting with the Japanese client.
She stared at the screen, then typed again, her fingers hesitating over each word.
Laina: I'm not feeling good. Can you please handle this next meeting as well?
A pause, then his message popped up.
Victor: What happened, honey?
Laina: Nothing serious… just a headache.
Victor: Okay. I'm coming. I'll take care of the meeting. You take a rest.
A faint smile lifted her lips.
Laina: Love you.
Victor: Love you too.
She placed her phone down, that tiny exchange comforting her aching chest for a brief second. Then, quietly, she gathered her things, slipped her bag over her shoulder, and walked out of the cabin.
That evening, Victor came home, the usual confidence of his stride mellowed by the thought of Laina's message. Kael's room door was shut, the familiar noise of his video game echoing faintly.
Victor's eyes scanned the living room, empty. He went straight to their bedroom, removing his blazer, loosening his tie as he entered.
And there she was, Laina, lying on the bed, eyes half closed, her face pale yet graceful under the dim golden light of the bedside lamp.
He smiled faintly and sat at the edge of the bed, brushing his hand over her hair.
Her eyes fluttered open, soft and drowsy. "You're home?"
"I am," he said quietly, his voice warm, tender. He leaned down to kiss her forehead, then her lips, a small, familiar peck that felt like home. "You okay?"
She nodded slightly. "Just a headache… feeling a little stressed."
He looked at her face, searching, reading, trying to see beyond the words.
She chuckled softly. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
He blinked, then tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, his thumb brushing her cheek. "Because you look beautiful."
She laughed, shaking her head. "Stop flirting. We're not that young couple anymore."
He smirked, lowering his forehead against hers. "So what? You still make my heart race like the first time."
Her lips curved into a smile, the same smile that always weakened him. She reached up, touching his face, then pulled him closer and kissed him, slow and deep.
Victor smiled into the kiss, his hands resting at her waist before slowly drawing her closer. When he pulled back, his voice was a whisper against her skin. "Let me help you get rid of that stress."
His fingers began unbuttoning her shirt, soft and teasing.
She laughed, gently swatting his chest. "Stop it, Kael's at home."
"He's too busy in his own world," Victor murmured, his lips brushing her neck.
She giggled, her eyes lighting up with that familiar spark he adored.
"Let's take a shower together," he whispered. "No one will disturb us there."
She laughed again. "You're still the same horny ass."
He grinned, tossing his tie aside and scooping her into his arms with surprising ease.
Her laughter filled the room as he carried her toward the bathroom, her arms wrapping around his neck.
Under the warm cascade of the shower, they stood close, years melting away between them. His lips traced her skin softly, reverently. "I love you," he whispered against her collarbone.
She smiled, cupping his face, pulling him into a kiss that said it all, I love you too.
Outside, the sound of water and laughter blended softly while their teenage son, Kael, sat in his room, headset on, shouting at his video game screen, blissfully unaware.
Later, wrapped in towels, Victor held her close, his fingers brushing droplets from her shoulder. "Feeling better now?" he asked gently.
She nodded, smiling faintly. "Much better."
He kissed her forehead, his eyes soft, content.
But then, her expression changed. She looked at him, her smile fading into quiet honesty.
"Victor…" she whispered.
"Hm?" he hummed, still tracing circles on her back.
"I wasn't able to forget Kairo," she said softly.
The spark in his eyes dimmed instantly. His hand stilled.
She looked at him, her own heart tightening,
"I'm sorry," Liana's voice trembled faintly, the warmth of the shower still lingering on her skin, "but sometimes it hurts… that I left him—"
Before she could finish, Victor's expression hardened. "He is not your child anymore," he said, his voice low but firm.
Her lips parted, stunned. "Vic…"
Victor stood there, eyes sharp and unreadable. "We have only one child, Liana. Kael. He's our son. The only love child of us. No more."
The finality in his tone made her chest ache. She blinked rapidly, the sting of tears burning her eyes. "Vic, I just…"
"Forget the past, Liana." He cut her off again, his voice softening just a little but still heavy. "You are my wife. My whole world. And the same goes for you as well."
A tear rolled down her cheek before she could stop it. Seeing that, Victor's stern gaze wavered; his jaw tightened, and then he sighed deeply. His heart couldn't stand her tears.
"Shh… don't cry, honey." He reached for her, pulling her into his chest. "I didn't mean to sound harsh."
Her arms came around him slowly, her body melting into his embrace. His warmth pressed against her, grounding the guilt that had been eating her for days.
"I love you, Liana," he whispered, voice shaking slightly this time. "I love you so much."
Her hold on him tightened in silence. For a moment, there was no sound but their breaths blending softly, a quiet truce between guilt and possessiveness.
Dinner that night was gentle, almost peaceful. Kael talked endlessly about school and the new video game he wanted to buy. His eyes sparkled as he explained its levels and challenges.
Victor smiled at his son, nodding. "We'll get it this weekend."
Kael's grin widened, "Thanks, Dad. I love you," he said in excitement. and Liana couldn't help but smile too. The warmth of domestic normalcy wrapped around them, fragile, but there.
Later, as night fell and the house turned quiet, Liana lay against Victor's chest. His heartbeat was steady, comforting, the rhythm she'd always leaned into when her mind felt loud.
"I'm sorry… for earlier," she whispered softly.
His hand caressed her back, slow and reassuring. "That's okay," he murmured, kissing the top of her head.
She closed her eyes, the exhaustion of emotions finally catching up. Slowly, her breathing grew softer, even slipping into sleep against him.
Victor stayed still, eyes open. Watching the ceiling.
The faint light from the bedside lamp cut shadows across his face, calm, collected, yet dark at the edges. His hand that had been gently resting on her back now gripped her tighter. His gaze drifted toward her peaceful face, and something unreadable flickered there: hurt, fear, maybe obsession.
His jaw clenched. He bent slightly, kissing her hair once more, but this time, his touch lingered longer than before, like a silent vow.
He wasn't ready to lose her.Not to memories.Not to anyone.
He pulled her closer, pressing her body firmly against his chest, as though by holding tighter he could erase the ghost that still haunted her heart.
In the silence of their dim-lit room, Victor whispered almost to himself, "You're mine, Liana. Only mine."
And then, with the same quiet intensity, he closed his eyes, the darkness around him deepening, holding both love and fear in the same breath.