Evening had settled in, the golden hue of sunset fading to a soft silver as the moon rose, casting a calm glow across the house. Sara was in the kitchen, apron tied snugly around her waist, chopping vegetables and stirring ingredients carefully. She insisted on preparing Zayn's dinner herself, refusing any help from the staff. Her protective instincts for her son were sharper than ever; she trusted no one when it came to him.
Zayn, meanwhile, was in the living room, surrounded by scattered toys, completely lost in his imaginative little world.
The sound of Kairo's car horn announced that he was home.
Kairo entered the house, excitement lighting up his face. The moment his eyes landed on Zayn, his expression softened completely.
"Hello, my champ," he said in a cocooning voice, his tone melting with warmth.
Zayn's eyes sparkled the instant he saw Kairo. he squealed, jumping up and down with pure joy.
Kairo laughed, scooping him into his arms. "Dada missed baby Zayn so much," he murmured, kissing his cheeks affectionately.
"Zayn, miss you too," the little one replied, his voice sweet and innocent.
Kairo's heart fluttered at the sound. He kissed Zayn's cheek again, holding him close for a moment before whispering softly, "Where's Mumma?"
Zayn pointed toward the kitchen with a tiny hand.
Kairo smiled, brushing Zayn's hair back. "Let's go surprise Mumma, hmm?" he whispered, lowering his voice playfully as he carried his little boy toward the kitchen.
Zayn nodded eagerly, his little arms wrapping around Kairo's neck as they made their way to the kitchen.
There she was, standing near the counter, quietly stirring the pot, her hair loosely tied, the faint aroma of spices filling the air.
Kairo slowed his steps, a smile tugging at his lips. For a moment, it felt like a dream, his dream. Sara in their kitchen, Zayn in his arms, laughter waiting to happen. His heart fluttered with warmth he couldn't put into words.
"Hey, Mommy," he teased softly, voice light and playful.
Sara didn't turn around, didn't even glance at him.
His grin only deepened. He stepped closer, wrapping one arm around her waist and pulling her back against him, the other still securely holding Zayn.
Sara stiffened, wiggling in protest. but he only chuckled.
He leaned in, brushing a quick kiss against her cheek. She turned her head slightly, glaring at him, but that only made him smile wider.
"Missed you, soda glass," he murmured teasingly, his voice low and full of mischief.
She didn't reply.
"Ouch," he said with a dramatic sigh, tightening his arm slightly around her waist. "That's rude, you know? Ignoring your husband when he's home, tired, yet hopelessly lovesick."
Sara raised an unimpressed eyebrow, her lips twitching but refusing to respond.
"Come on, baby," he coaxed, tone dipping playfully. "Say something. At least a curse. 'Asshole,' maybe? Or 'dickhead'? …'Fuckboy,' perhaps?" He added that last word deliberately, his voice low, teasing, edged with nostalgia.
Sara froze for a second. Her heart skipped, because that was what she used to call him back then. Back when everything was beautiful, raw, and painfully real.
Her jaw tightened, masking the flicker of emotion in her chest. She turned her gaze away, muttering, "Zayn, come, baby. It's your dinner time."
Kairo's face fell into a little disappointed pout. Then he leaned closer to her ear, his voice dropping into that low, teasing hum."Feed me too… I'm hungry." He paused, lips brushing her ear just enough to make her tense. "Hungry for food and—"
Before he could finish, she turned sharply, glaring at him like fire.
He grinned, unbothered, and stole a quick peck from her lips before she could move. She hissed softly, eyes widening.
"Stay in your limits, asshole," she warned, her tone sharp.
He chuckled, holding Zayn securely in his arms. "Damn… finally! A blissful word from my soda glass." He pressed a hand to his chest dramatically, pretending to be moved.
Sara almost smiled, almost, but caught herself in time, hiding the faint curl of her lips as she turned away.
She prepared Zayn's dinner quietly, pouring the warm food into a small bowl. When she reached out to take Zayn from his arms, Kairo stepped back slightly.
"Nope," he said, shaking his head. "I'll hold him. It's my time with him. You've had him all day." His tone softened, but stayed firm. "Feed him. I'll hold him."
Sara narrowed her eyes but didn't argue further. She sat beside them and began feeding Zayn spoon by spoon.
Zayn giggled between bites, leaning against his father's chest, tiny fingers tugging at Kairo's shirt. Kairo's eyes stayed on him, filled with warmth, pure, unfiltered, almost boyish love.
Sara found herself glancing at them quietly. For a moment, it almost felt… normal. The way he held Zayn, the way Zayn laughed freely in his arms, the way Kairo's hand absentmindedly brushed her arm every now and then, it felt like something she had dreamed of once.
Kairo kept Zayn entertained until the little one finished his meal completely, playfully blowing on each spoonful, whispering silly things that made Zayn giggle uncontrollably.
Sara didn't resist him much. Because for once, he wasn't crossing lines. He wasn't forcing anything. He was just… helping.
And it made her heart ache in the quietest, gentlest way.
Dinner was over. Zayn had played with Kairo for a while, his laughter filling the house in bursts that made the walls feel alive again. Kairo made sure to give his little boy every bit of attention he'd missed over the years, every tickle, every silly face, every affectionate word.
Zayn, though tired, kept fighting his sleep, still trying to stack his colorful building blocks sitting on Kairo's lap. Kairo sat cross-legged on the floor, smiling at his son's stubborn energy.
"Come on, champ," he murmured fondly. "Your eyes are closing, but you're still trying to beat gravity."
Zayn giggled weakly, his tiny hands wobbling as he placed another block on the uneven tower. A few seconds later, his head drooped against Kairo's chest.
Kairo stilled, watching his son's lashes flutter shut. His heart softened completely. He held Zayn closer, his big hand gently rubbing the boy's back as he whispered, "Sleep well, my little man." he kissed Zayn's head.
Sara stood by the doorway, watching quietly. She didn't protest. She didn't argue. Because Zayn was happy, and for his happiness, she could share him with Kairo.
After a moment, she walked over, her steps careful and light. "I'll take him to bed," she said softly.
Kairo nodded without a word and carefully passed Zayn into her arms. She held the little boy close, pressing a kiss to his forehead before walking toward the bedroom.
Kairo followed quietly, his eyes tracing every small movement, the way she tucked Zayn in, the way her hand lingered over his hair, the way she looked at their son with that deep, endless love he had once taken for granted.
He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed loosely, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
It was such a simple scene, but to him, it felt like everything he'd ever wanted.
"Don't just stand there," she said quietly, trying to sound annoyed. "You'll scare him if he wakes up."
Kairo smiled, stepping closer. "I was just admiring," he said, voice low.
"Admiring what?"
"The way you look when you're being a mother," he said softly. "It's beautiful."
She froze for a second. Her fingers twisted the edge of her dupatta unconsciously. Compliments from him always left her unguarded, like he could still slip through her walls without asking.
"You're still good with words," she muttered, brushing past him toward the living room.
Kairo followed, but quieter this time. "No, I meant it," he said, sitting on the couch. "You… look happy when you're with him. Peaceful."
She didn't answer. Instead, she poured water into a glass and sipped slowly, her gaze fixed on the floor. "Happiness doesn't come that easily," she said. "Especially after what you've done."
Kairo exhaled. "I know."
The silence that followed was heavy, but not hostile. For the first time, it didn't feel like they were standing on opposite sides of a battlefield, more like two people quietly staring at the ruins, unsure how to rebuild.
He leaned back, watching her. "You don't have to trust me yet, Sara. But I'll keep showing up anyway," he said simply. "For Zayn, for you too."
Sara's eyes flickered up to his, a flash of surprise, confusion, maybe even longing.
"You talk like you're sure I'll forgive you."
"I don't need you to forgive me right now," he said, smiling faintly. "Just don't shut the door completely."
Her chest tightened again. His tone wasn't arrogant or forceful; it was tired, gentle, and almost pleading. And that scared her more than his anger ever did.
"Don't stay up too late, eat your dinner, and sleep," She said before settling on the bed, hugging Zayn.
his lips curving into a faint, wistful smile. He ran a hand through his hair, whispering to himself,
"At least she didn't throw me out tonight."