Zayn had fallen asleep on the ride back, his little body slumped against Kairo's shoulder, exhausted from flashing smiles at strangers and being adored by many at the party and the wrath he had witnessed earlier. By the time they reached home, he was completely drained.
Sara hadn't spoken anything throughout the ride; now she just got out of the car and walked inside without a single word. No glance, no sigh, nothing. Just silence.
Kairo didn't chase her. He didn't have the heart to. He just held his sleepy boy tighter and took him to the room. He changed him out of the heavy suit, wiping his face, replacing everything with soft cotton and warmth. He tucked him under the blankets, stroked his soft hair once, and kissed his forehead.
The bathroom door was closed behind Sara. Water running. That was the only sound in the house.
Kairo didn't knock. He walked to the other room, got fresh and changed into a loose night shirt and soft pants, then returned to their bedroom.
He sat on the bed with his back against the headboard, legs slightly apart, hands resting on his thighs, eyes fixed on the bathroom door, worried.
She had slipped into her shell. Again. She had gone through too much tonight. And he hated it. The image of her holding Zayn helplessly when her father tried to hit her, it burned him more than he let show.
But his father's words echoed in his mind. This wasn't the moment for rage or revenge. Right now, she didn't need his anger. She needed comfort. She needed something steady to hold on to. She needed him, quiet, calm, and warm enough to pull her back from everything that had hurt her tonight.
So he waited for her. He wanted to hold her, tuck her into his chest, whisper soft things until the hurt loosened its grip on her. He wanted to be her safe place tonight.
After some time, she finally came out. Soft, loose blouse, and shorts. Her hair was wrapped under a towel. Her cheeks flushed, too flushed, the kind that appeared only after crying or trying too hard not to. And her gaze, down, never once meeting his.
She moved to the mirror, gently squeezing water from her hair, pretending she didn't feel his eyes following every step she took. But when her gaze flickered up and saw him watching her through the reflection… she instantly looked away, and dimmed the lights like she couldn't stand being seen.
She sat on the bed, slipping under the covers. "Good night," she whispered, small and fragile.
He breathed out a tired sigh… He couldn't let the night swallow her like this; he wanted her to speak, but she didn't. So he called softly, "Sara."
She stilled. He reached out, his hand gentle on her shoulder. "Did you cry?" His voice was low, steady, but too soft to ignore.
Her throat tightened instantly. She didn't answer. She couldn't. Because yes, she had cried. What her father said stabbed straight into her chest. And she wasn't brave enough to let Kairo see that crack. She didn't know how he would take it, or if it would worry him, or make him angry, or hurt him too.
Kairo didn't wait for an answer. Because her silence said everything.
He simply turned her around and pulled her onto his lap, guiding her legs around his waist like he always did when he wanted her close enough to breathe into her.
His hands settled on her waist, warm, careful, comforting her without a single word. He held her there, in that quiet, dim light, like he was telling her she didn't need to hide anything from him.
Not tonight.
"Sara," he whispered, softer this time, lowering his forehead to hers, "talk to me… baby, please."
But she didn't. He brushed her hair back gently. His fingers traced her jaw, feather-light.
"Sara," he whispered again, voice low but steady, "look at me, baby."
He lifted her chin, meeting her gaze. Her eyes were swollen, red, tired… tears shimmering... his heart broke. He held her face between his palms and gently pecked her lips.
"Don't hide from me, darling..." he whispered. "I hate it when you carry so much inside you, alone, and don't let me see it. Let me take some of it, baby. Let me hold you."
He pulled her closer, easing her onto his lap. His hands stayed on her waist, warm and steady, grounding her. "I can't see you hurt, baby".
He leaned forward and pressed a long, slow kiss to her forehead. Then another on her cheek. Then the corner of her mouth. Not claiming… just comforting.
He kissed her like she was fragile glass, and he knew it.
She exhaled shakily, her hands sliding up his chest, gripping his shirt as if he were the only steady thing in the world.
She shivered, not out of fear, but the kind of shiver that comes when someone finally touches a wound gently.
"Dad..." she whispered. "Dad's words..." She was shaking, not able to complete the sentence. But he understood.
He held her face, fingers tracing her jaw gently. "No one's words get to write your worth, my love," he said softly. "And no one gets to steal your peace, not even your father."
Her lip trembled, but he didn't let her look away. He gently pressed another kiss on her trembling lips. "You are mine, Sara... My whole world," he spoke gently. "Nobody has the right to question your sanity and worth."
His fingers slid into her hair, tugging her closer like she needed him, needed the closeness more than air.
A painful, breathy sob escaped from her lips.
"Shh... I got you, baby," He whispered, tugging her close into his embrace. He kissed her shoulder, slow, reverent. His lips moved up her neck, gentle, slow, just present.
His fingers ran along her back, tracing the outline of her spine, pulling her closer until her body melted into his. Her breath started changing, from shaky to soft, from strained to wanting.
"I love you, sweetheart." A gentle whisper escaped from his lips.
She pulled back, eyes shimmering with tears... "Kairo…" she breathed, trembling. He looked at her gently, "Yes, my love."
She looked at him, wanted to speak, but words were not forming, stuck in her throat. Instead, she met his lips, a kiss that wasn't heated at first, but deep. A kiss that said I need you. I want to feel your warmth, everything she couldn't say in words.
When she pulled back, he met her gaze, her eyes, begging something, maybe asking something... but not able to put into words, again.
Then she pulled him another kiss, tears slipping from her eyes, and he held her closer, responding to her. His hands were caressing her back with gentle touches.
But then... "I want you," he admitted quietly, "I want to love you… slowly… properly… so you know exactly how much you mean to me."
Her cheeks heated, her arms tightening around his neck. He lay her gently onto the bed, hovering above her, his hair falling over his eyes.
His voice dropped, softer, deeper. "Let me make you forget everything."
His fingers slipped under the hem of her blouse, grazing her skin with a tenderness, slowly undoing the layers one by one that made her breath catch. Every touch was slow, reverent.
"Let me heal my sweetheart." He kissed a path along her collarbone to her chest. She arched into him, melting under his kiss, letting go, letting herself be wanted.
His lips loved every inch of her, slow, gentle. Each kiss showered her skin with pleasure and sealed her soul with love, healing her wound, leaving her breathless.
"Kairo…" she whispered again, but this time with pleasure instead of pain.
His lips came back to hers, deeper, firmer, but still gentle. His hands cupped her hips, guiding her closer, his body fitting against hers with quiet urgency, finding her warmth.
"I'm going to show you, baby, just how much I admire your existence."
She let out a shaky moan when he sank into her warmth, moving gently, making her feel the soft, tender love he was pouring into her.
"You're loved, Baby," he murmured against her mouth. "You're Cherished," his hands caressing her thighs.
"You're adored," he kissed the corner of her mouth.
"You make my existence meaningful," he kissed her forehead.
"You make me complete," he pressed another kiss on her parted lips, "You're Mine."
Her heartbeat stumbled. His every confession, his every kiss, his every touch, his every gentle stroke made her forget every hurtful word that her father said, every wound that was bleeding her soul.
The night unfolded like silk, slow, emotional, intimate, with Kairo making sure that every breath she took came with the certainty that she was wanted, chosen, treasured.
He didn't just get physical. He healed her. He adored her. He replaced every bitter word Vector said with a touch that erased it.
And Sara finally felt her heart lighten. She felt loved, fully, completely, safely.