Liana rushed inside the house, her heart racing and her mind swirling with the thought of Charles. All those buried memories clawed their way back to the surface, the laughter, the heartbreak, the day everything fell apart. Her pulse throbbed in her ears as she tossed her bag on the couch, trying to steady her breath.
A soft sizzle from the kitchen pulled her attention, followed by the delicious aroma of spices. "Vector…" she whispered, the tension in her chest easing.
She hurried toward the kitchen. There he was, standing by the counter, sleeves rolled up, stirring something on the stove. The sight of him, calm, grounded, familiar, brought her trembling heart back to life.
Without a word, she walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face against his back. The warmth of his body instantly melted her anxiety.
He smiled, his hand coming down to rest over hers. "Welcome home, honey," he murmured with that soft teasing tone that always made her heart flutter.
She kissed his back, tightening her hug. "You're already home?"
"Yeah," he said, turning his head slightly. "I happened to finish early, so I thought of coming home and cooking something for my lovely wife."
He turned around to face her, his hands sliding to her waist as he pulled her closer."Kael's not home," he whispered teasingly, his breath warm against her lips. "It's our time, honey."
She smiled, blushing. "Vector…"
He pecked her lips with a grin. "What? I missed you. Let's have our time together, cook, eat dinner… and maybe go for something more than dinner," he murmured playfully.
She laughed. "Shut up."
He chuckled softly. "Tonight, no shutting up, only romance."
Her cheeks flushed as she giggled, the stress and unease melting away in his presence."Then take me to the bedroom first… and dinner can wait," she said, looking up at him.
Vector smiled, eyes glinting. "As you wish, honey," he whispered, lifting her into his arms and carrying her toward the bedroom.
Meanwhile, Charles sat alone in his mansion, slouched in his armchair, eyes closed. His mind kept replaying her face, those green eyes, that smile he once loved so deeply… the same woman who had betrayed him.
He opened his eyes, the weight of loneliness pressing on his chest. Seeing her again after all these years only made it worse, like trying to breathe underwater.
Everything had been perfect once. When he married her, when they had Kairo… life had felt whole. But somewhere along the way, things began to crack, and he didn't even notice until everything fell apart.
Now he had it all: money, luxury, the status he once chased. Yet he had nothing. No one to talk to, no one to smile with, no one to ask if he was okay.
Liana was gone. And though he still had Kairo, he'd pushed his own son away, too. The regret stung deeper than anything else. He had shut out that innocent boy when he needed his father the most. And now, even if he wanted to reach out, to ask for forgiveness, to say come home, I need you, he couldn't.
Because he knew what it felt like to be ignored. And now, he was the one left behind.
His eyes glistened with pain. The silence in the mansion felt unbearable, too loud, too empty.
Finally, Charles stood up, grabbed his car keys, and walked out. He couldn't stay in that suffocating house another second.
Kairo was on the floor playing with Zayn, the little boy's laughter filling every corner of the house. Sara sat nearby on the couch, focused on her laptop, finishing a small pending task. The cook in the kitchen, preparing dinner. when the sudden ring of the doorbell broke the calm rhythm of the evening.
Kairo glanced toward the door, frowning. Who could that be at this hour?"I'll get it," he said, standing up and scooping Zayn into his arms. Sara looked up briefly before returning to her screen.
As Kairo opened the door, his expression froze. "What are you doing here?" he asked sharply.
Charles stood there, older but still carrying that commanding presence. His eyes softened the moment they landed on Zayn. He ignored Kairo's tone completely and smiled warmly at the boy."Hello, my little man… how are you?" he said in a gentle, playful voice, reaching out his arms.
To Kairo's surprise, Zayn went to him easily, resting his tiny hands on Charles's shoulders. The old man's face lit up with a rare smile.
"I came here to see my grandson," Charles said firmly, already stepping inside the house without waiting for permission.
Kairo's jaw clenched as he watched his father stroll in like he owned the place, completely ignoring him.
Sara stood up quickly, setting her laptop aside and smoothing her hair. "Hello," she greeted politely, offering a soft smile.
Charles smiled back. "How are you, dear?"
"I'm good," she replied kindly.
Kairo closed the door behind them, his glare never leaving Charles. The tension in the room thickened instantly, two generations standing in the same space, one filled with unspoken anger, the other with heavy regret.
"I missed Zayn," Charles said softly, looking at the little boy with a fond smile. "I was passing by and thought I'd stop in to see him."
Sara smiled warmly. "No problem, sir. You're always welcome here."
Kairo shot her a sharp glare, but she pretended not to notice.
"Would you like some coffee?" she offered politely.
Charles shook his head with a small smile. "No, I already had one a little while ago."
"Oh… how about dinner then?" she asked again, smiling gently.
Charles hesitated for a moment. His heart wanted to say yes immediately; he was dying to have dinner with them, spend some time with them. but his pride and Kairo's cold stare made him falter. He glanced at his son, who stood with his arms crossed, face unreadable.
"Dinner's almost ready anyway," Sara added gently. "Please, have dinner with us, sir. Last time, you didn't stay."
Charles's lips curved into a faint, grateful smile. "Alright," he said finally.
Sara smiled warmly. "You can spend some time with Zayn till then."
"Sure," Charles nodded, his voice softer now.
Kairo's glare deepened, but Sara met his eyes calmly and turned toward Zayn. "Zayn, baby," she said in a sweet tone, "play with Grandpa for a bit, okay? Mumma will be in the kitchen."
Zayn looked at Charles, then at his father.
"Dada will be in the kitchen too, helping Mumma," Sara added quickly, shooting Kairo a pointed look.
Kairo clenched his jaw, clearly irritated.
"Okay, Mumma," Zayn nodded obediently.
"Good boy," Sara said, ruffling his hair. "Don't trouble Grandpa, alright?"
Charles smiled softly as he watched little Zayn obediently nod to his mother's words. There was something so pure about the child's innocence that it made his chest ache.
Meanwhile, Sara took Kairo's hand and gently pulled him toward the kitchen before he could start an argument in front of his father and son. The moment they stepped inside, away from the others, Kairo's voice rose, low but full of anger.
"Are you out of your mind, Sara? How could you? Zayn is my son! How can you just let him spend time with that man?" he snapped, his jaw tightening.
Sara turned to the cook with a polite smile. "We'll take care of the rest for now. Could you come back after fifteen minutes?"
"Yes, ma'am," the cook replied with a nod before quietly leaving the kitchen.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Sara turned to Kairo, her expression soft but firm. "Kairo," she said gently, meeting his tense gaze. "Zayn is his grandson, too."
"No, he's not," Kairo shot back instantly, his tone sharp. "He never treated me like a son. He doesn't get to show up now and claim my family as his."
"Don't be such a rude ass, Kairo," Sara said. "Can't you see the pain in his eyes? The way he looks at you?"
"Pain?" Kairo let out a bitter laugh. "He should've thought about that before pushing me away. Before treating me like I was nothing."
Sara sighed, then stepped closer and gently held his hands, forcing him to meet her eyes. "Come on, Kairo… he's still your father," she said softly, cupping his face. "The man who brought you into this world, who gave you this life. Yes, he treated you badly, but people change when regret starts eating them alive. Look at him, Kairo, really look at him. He's old, lonely, and broken. Can't you see how drained he looks?"
Kairo's eyes flickered, the anger in them slowly mixing with confusion and pain.
"He might have pushed you away once," Sara continued quietly, "but don't do the same to him now. He's all alone, Kairo. And the fact that he came here… it means something. It means he still cares. There's still that bond, that love he carries for you deep inside. If he had truly stopped caring, he would've moved on, built a new life with someone else, but he didn't."
She paused, her voice softening even more. "Just because he did wrong to you once doesn't mean you should return the same. Sometimes, forgiveness heals more than punishment ever could."
Kairo stared at her, his throat tightening. He wanted to argue, but her words, calm and sincere, were already breaking down the walls he'd built for years.
He looked at her, his voice low but firm. "But still… I can't forgive him for what he did."
Sara sighed softly. "Take your time," she said, her tone patient and gentle. "Just… give him a chance, Kairo. He has no one else to go to. Nowhere else to belong except here."
He stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "Okay," he muttered finally. "Just because you said so. But I'm not sharing my family with him too much."
Sara's lips curved into a small smile. "Okay, my possessive brat," she teased, reaching up to squeeze his cheeks.
He let out a low whine, still expressionless. "At least smile a little, asshole," she said, nudging his chest with her finger.
"Only if you promise to kiss me later," he said flatly, his face giving nothing away.
Sara burst into a laugh, lightly smacking his arm. "Sure, my baby," she said in that soft, affectionate tone that melted him instantly.
Kairo blinked, caught off guard by the word baby. His ears reddened, and despite himself, a shy smile broke through. Sara giggled, and before she could say anything more, he pushed himself into her arms, burying his face into her neck.
"Ohh… so even the big bad fuckboy gets flustered, huh?" she teased, stroking his back.
"Stop teasing me," he mumbled into her skin. "You never called me baby before. Of course, I got flustered."
She smiled, whispering near his ear, "From now on, I'll call you baby… sweetheart… maybe even daddy."
He pulled back, smirking with red-tinted ears, yet shameless. "I like Daddy the most."
She grinned, leaning closer. "Then I'll call you daddy," she teased.
"Sure… mommy," he replied, and she giggled at the ease between them. Just like that, their little private romance bloomed in the kitchen, warm and teasing, full of soft touches and whispered words.
Meanwhile, across the room, Charles kept Zayn entertained, making him laugh with silly antics and playful tickles. For a few moments, he could forget the weight of his own regrets, losing himself in the simple joy of seeing his grandson smile.