That night, Zayn fell asleep almost the moment his head touched the pillow, worn out from all the adventures he'd had with his grandfather. His soft little breaths filled the room, peaceful and warm.
But Kairo…Kairo couldn't find that peace.
He sat at his desk after dinner, laptop open, fingers hovering over the keyboard, yet his mind was nowhere near his work. Charles's words kept echoing in his head, looping over and over with a strange heaviness he didn't know how to handle.
"I'm trying… to be a good father. I hope I'll get a chance to be one."
Every time the sentence returned, something inside him tightened.
Sara didn't disturb him at first. She let him have space; she knew he needed time to think, to breathe, to sort out the emotions he'd buried for years.
Zayn had talked endlessly about Charles earlier, with all the innocence of a child. Laughing, giggling, telling how his grandpa fed him, lifted him, told stories about "Dada." And every time, Kairo had listened silently, letting guilt and warmth mix in his chest.
Now, sitting alone in the study, he looked smaller… quieter.
Sara stepped inside slowly. She leaned against the doorframe for a moment, simply watching him, this man who had been ranting the whole day about his father stealing his son, acting dramatic, over-possessive… and now sitting in complete silence, lost in thoughts he didn't know how to name.
A soft smile touched her lips.
She walked up to him quietly, like she already knew he needed her before he even said a word. Her arms slipped around his neck from behind, and she pressed a soft kiss to the side of his head.He flinched, just a tiny reflex from being pulled out of his thoughts, then melted into her touch.
She smiled at that, brushing her lips to his temple.
"You okay?" she whispered against his skin.
Kairo let out a breath that sounded like it had been trapped in his chest for hours.
"Maybe not," he admitted, voice low, honest, tired.
She brushed her fingers through his hair with comforting tenderness.
"You look tired. Wrap up the work and get some rest," she murmured.
Instead of answering, he leaned back in his chair and gently guided her onto his lap. His arms wrapped around her tightly, pulling her close as he rested his head against her chest, seeking her, grounding himself in her steady heartbeat.
She kissed the crown of his head again, slow and reassuring, while her hand rubbed soothing circles on his back.
"Why is Dad suddenly changing?" he asked quietly, the confusion in his voice almost childlike.
She smiled a little. "You don't like him changing for the better?" she teased gently, but her tone carried real warmth.
He didn't respond at first. Silence settled between them, heavy but honest. Then he finally spoke, voice low.
"I'm not used to this version of him. It's… hard to accept him like this."
"I know," she whispered, stroking his hair. "Take your time. You don't have to accept it in one day. You'll get used to this version of him slowly."
He didn't answer; he only hugged her tighter, as if her arms were the one place where he didn't have to pretend he was fine.
They stayed like that for a while, the quiet comforting him more than words. But then, suddenly, he spoke again.
"He wasn't like this before," he said, his tone darker now, filled with an older pain. "But the moment he found out about you and Zayn… suddenly he wants to get close."
Her hand stilled in his hair.
Kairo's throat tightened as he continued, "I'm scared to share you guys with him. And I don't want to."
The vulnerability in his voice was raw, almost childlike, a quiet confession from someone who had survived disappointment too many times.
"Kairo…" she said slowly, her voice soft, careful.
He swallowed, the words trembling out of him.
"I fear… what if involving him in my little world makes me lose my little world again?"
Sara's breath hitched.
"Kairo… baby, what are you saying?" she whispered, cupping the back of his head gently. "How would involving him make you lose us? We're not going anywhere. We love you, baby…"
He didn't answer. He only snuggled deeper into her warmth, clinging to her,
"I don't know… I'm scared," he murmured into her chest. "And every bit of me is refusing to accept Dad."
Sara tightened her hug, shocked by the depth of his fear. She could feel his body trembling faintly, not crying, not shaking, but overwhelmed.
She had never expected this much fear inside him, fear of losing her, losing Zayn… fear of being replaced in his own story. A fear so heavy it made him sound small.
She gently kissed the top of his head, her arms wrapping around him tighter, protective.
"Kairo," she whispered, "you're not going to lose me. Or Zayn. Not to anyone."
He let out a shaky breath and burrowed further into her, his possessiveness quietly slipping through the cracks of his vulnerability. His arms around her tightened, his body curling into hers like he was trying to merge the distance away.
She could feel it, the emotional storm inside him, the rollercoaster of hurt, fear, attachment, and longing tangled together. His heart was fighting battles he had never spoken about before.
"Calm down, baby…" she whispered, rubbing slow, comforting circles along his back. "I'm right here."
And he held her even tighter, as if afraid that if he loosened his grip, even for a second, the world he built with her would slip away from his hands.
He stayed like that, holding onto her, letting the emotional waves inside him slowly settle. Sara kept rubbing his back, her fingers moving through his hair, soothing him with every soft touch. The room was quiet, wrapped in their quiet breathing and the warmth they shared.
Little by little, his grip loosened. His shoulders dropped. His body relaxed a little against hers.
"Okay now?" she murmured.
He hummed into her neck, not letting go entirely, but calmer, breathing easier.
She waited a moment, then asked softly, "Can I ask you something?"
Another hum.
"What makes you think… that we would ever leave you? For any reason?"
He stilled.
The question lingered in the air, and she could feel him thinking, really thinking. His fingers tightened just a little on her waist, and for a long moment, he stayed silent, trying to form words for a fear he had never truly said out loud.
Finally, in a low, quiet voice, he spoke.
"Because I lost you once," he said slowly, painfully honest. "Because of my… stupid, immature mistake."
Sara's breath softened, but she didn't interrupt.
"And you paid the price," he continued, voice wavering. "You fought the world alone. You gave birth to Zayn and raised him alone. While I… I was living like an unaware bastard. Completely clueless, while you suffered,"
His jaw clenched against her skin. "And every time I think about what you went through… it makes me angry at myself. It makes me hate myself."
Her hand froze for a second on his back, her heart twisting.
"And then I get scared," he whispered. "What if someday, you get angry again? What if… You decide to leave me?"
His voice broke at the end. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just raw. Small. Honest.
As if a part of him truly believed losing her once meant losing her again was always a possibility.
She listened quietly, her hand still moving slowly through his hair. She didn't rush him. She didn't breathe too loudly. She simply held him in that calm, warm silence he needed.
"And why," she asked softly, "why would involving your dad in your life make you fear you'd lose us?"
He went silent again.
She could almost feel his thoughts turning, the way his chest lifted and fell, the hesitation in his breath. He wasn't someone who easily admitted fears, especially not the kind that made him feel small.
After a long moment, his voice finally came.
"I love Zayn too much," he whispered. "Too much."
She smiled faintly, her heart aching.
"I already missed so many beautiful moments with him… moments you had alone with him," he continued, voice trembling at the edges. "You had him. You raised him. And I wasn't there. That regret… it never leaves."
Sara felt her throat tighten.
"I want to make up for everything I missed," he said, almost like a confession he'd been holding for years. "Every smile. Every hug. Every bit of love. I want every moment with you guys. Just for myself."
He exhaled shakily.
"And I get over-possessive," he admitted. "When Dad comes in, it feels like he takes a share of something that's mine. And I hate it.. I want all the love only for myself."
His words were raw, childish, painfully pure.
"And that's why I end up acting like a brat whenever he's around," he continued, quieter now. "I know it. I know it's stupid. I know it disappoints you sometimes. And I hate myself for that. But I can't… control it."
His voice cracked just a little.
"I fear, if Dad becomes too involved… I'll keep fighting with him over silly things. I know I will. And one day… what if you get tired of me acting like this and leave?"
The last words spilled out like a wound. Like a fear that had been eating him quietly from the inside.
He wasn't talking like a grown man.
He was talking like a child holding onto his favorite person, terrified they'd slip away.
He tightened his arms around her, pressing his forehead to her collarbone,
And she could feel all of it. His fear, his regret, his love, and how deeply he needed them.
For a moment, she could only stare at him, completely stunned by the tangled, aching mess of emotions he had been carrying alone.
How long had this been sitting inside him?
How long had he been convincing himself of these imaginary losses, these fears that never had a place in their home?
She didn't know what words could untangle such knots.
She didn't know what sentence could erase years of guilt and the wounds of a childhood he never healed from.
So she only did what she knew.
She held him closer, stroking his back gently.
"Kairo…" she whispered. "Baby," she said softly, running her fingers through his hair, "I never left you."
He stilled.
His breath caught, just a little, like her words had touched the deepest part of him.
"Since the day I had you in my life," she continued, her voice slow and soothing, "I only loved you."
His hand tightened in the fabric of her shirt.
"Even when you walked away," she whispered, "I waited for you. I hoped for you to come back… to accept me… to take me home."
He swallowed hard, his forehead pressing firmer against her chest, guilt washing through him.
"Yes, I was angry," she admitted gently. "Because you left without explanation. Because I didn't understand why. Because I had to face everything alone."
Her voice cracked, just a little.
"But I never left you, Kairo. Not for a second. You always lived in my heart—" she breathed, shaky, "—always."
He trembled under her touch.
"So don't fear that I'll ever leave you," she whispered, kissing the top of his head. "Not for your fears. Not for your mistakes. Not for anything."
She hugged him tighter.
"And I will never take Zayn away from you. Not for your jealousy. Not for your insecurities. Not for your father. Not for anything silly, your heart makes up when you're scared."
Her lips brushed his temple.
"You are our home," she said softly. "Zayn and I, we belong to you, baby. Always."
In her hold, he finally let out a shaky breath, as if something heavy inside him had finally loosened.
"And about Dad…" she whispered, her fingers moving slowly through his hair. "He is not a threat, baby."
He exhaled shakily, but didn't move.
"He is just another important person in your life," she continued gently, "someone you always craved for. Someone you deserved… and never got the right version of."
His jaw clenched faintly at her words, but he listened.
"Yes, he failed you," she said honestly. "He failed you when you needed him the most. He wasn't there for you. He didn't protect you. He didn't show you the love a father should."
She kissed his head, slow… lingering… almost like she was trying to heal that memory herself.
"But now," she whispered, "he seems to realise what he lost. And what he did wrong. He is trying, Kairo. Really trying. And I don't think he'll ever hurt you again."
Her voice was a soft blanket over his storm.
He breathed slowly, deeply, like all the mixed feelings in him were finally finding a place to settle… without fear, without panic, without that ache of losing something precious.
His arms, once tight with possessive worry, slowly loosened… turning tender around her waist. His heartbeat, once racing desperately, softened into a calm rhythm against her chest. His muscles relaxed under her touch, melting into her warmth.
She kissed his hair again.
"I love you," he mumbled suddenly, voice soft, tired, and honest.
A smile bloomed on her lips immediately.
"I love you more, baby boy."
He smiled, just a small, gentle curve of his lips against her skin, and she felt it. The quiet, relieved smile of a man finally breathing after drowning in his own fears.
She chuckled softly. "My baby is okay now?"
He hummed, the sound warm and low, then pressed a tender kiss to her neck, soft, lingering, seeking comfort.
She tried to pull back to look at him, but his arms tightened around her waist again.
"Stay like this…" he murmured, almost pleading, his voice muffled against her skin.
She smiled, hugging him tighter, resting her cheek on his head.
"I'm right here," she whispered.
And they stayed exactly like that, healing, melting, breathing, until his heart finally found peace.