Kairo entered his cabin quietly. His father, Charles, was already there, sitting in Kairo's chair, under the weight of authority that had always suffocated him. Charles didn't even look up at first, his eyes fixed ahead, jaw tight, hands resting on the armrest like a man who owned everything in the room, including the air Kairo breathed.
"Where were you?" his father's voice was cold, sharp, controlled.
Kairo shut the door behind him. "I went to check on something," he said casually, avoiding his gaze.
"For any chance did you forget that you are the boss here?" Charles growled.
Kairo stayed quiet.
"Start acting like one! You're not some college kid anymore, understand?" his father snapped.
"I do know that," Kairo replied, his voice low but firm. His jaw tightened as he looked at his father. "How many times do I have to prove that I've become responsible?"
Charles's eyes flashed. "Don't you dare talk back to me!"
Kairo met his father's gaze, anger flashing in his eyes.
After a tense silence, Charles took a deep breath to calm himself. "Fine. I came here to talk about your marriage."
Kairo didn't flinch. "I'm already married," he said. "With a kid."
The words hit like a thunderclap.
Charles froze. "What?"
Kairo looked him straight in the eye, "You heard me. I'm married. Legally. And I have a baby boy."
"Stop joking, Kairo," Charles said, his tone caught somewhere between disbelief and outrage.
"I'm not joking, Dad." Kairo's voice didn't waver. "If you need proof, I'll send you the papers later."
Charles rose from the chair abruptly. "Are you out of your mind? Do you even realize what you're saying?"
"Yes," Kairo said simply. "If you still don't believe me, my wife and son are right here, in the next cabin."
Charles's face hardened. "And you chose to marry and have a child without telling me?"
"I never told you anything about my life, Dad, because you were never interested," Kairo said quietly. "So why this sudden concern now?"
"Kairo!" Charles shouted.
"Don't yell, Dad," Kairo snapped back. "You don't have to care about me now. I've built the family I always wanted. I'm happy with my wife and kid." His eyes shimmered with faint tears.
For a moment, Charles's anger faltered. He took a step forward, but Kairo stopped him cold. "Don't," he said. "Don't come near me."
"Kairo…" his father's voice softened for the first time, almost pleading.
"End of discussion, Dad," Kairo said firmly. "If you came here to talk about marriage, there's your answer. I hope that's clear."
Charles inhaled deeply, his jaw twitching. "Fine," he said finally. "If you're already married and have a child, then introduce them to me."
"No need," Kairo said, voice calm but cutting. "They're fine. I don't want them to meet you."
"Stop being a brat, Kairo! I'm your father!"
"Father?" Kairo repeated, almost laughing. "Since when?"
"Don't argue with me."
"I'm not arguing," Kairo said coldly. "Just tell me, since when did you become my father? As far as I remember, you were only a provider, not a parent."
Charles stiffened. "Everything I did was for you, Kairo."
Kairo let out a dry laugh. "No, Dad. It was all for your bruised ego. When Mom left, you didn't care about fixing us; you just wanted to fix your pride. And in the process, you forgot I even existed."
"Don't talk nonsense, Kairo," Charles snapped. "If I hadn't worked hard back then, you wouldn't have all this luxury you're enjoying today."
"Oh, thanks, Dad," Kairo said sarcastically. "I'm so grateful. Tell me, how should I repay you? Should I leave everything behind?"
"Watch your tone!" Charles growled.
Kairo chuckled bitterly. "Tell me, Dad. Why now? Why suddenly think about me and my marriage, all of a sudden? Is this for my benefit, or another business deal?"
Charles glared, silent.
Kairo smirked, shaking his head. "I knew it, Dad. It's a new deal, isn't it? That's the only reason you ever show interest in me."
"I did care about you, Kairo," Charles insisted. "That's why you're standing here today."
Kairo's smirk faded. His voice turned quiet but cutting. "Really? Then answer me one thing, Dad."
Charles looked at him, confused.
"How old am I, Dad?" Kairo asked.
Charles blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
"My age," Kairo repeated, steady and slow. "Tell me how old I am."
Charles's lips parted, but no sound came out. His eyes flickered away.
Kairo smiled bitterly. "You don't even know my age, Dad. And you say you care about me?" His voice trembled with quiet anger.
"You know what? I don't ever want to be a father like you. To my son, I'll give him everything you couldn't give me. Love, care, time… all of it. I'll make sure he never feels alone or unwanted. That's my promise to him."
His words struck Charles like a blade. For the first time, he saw not the arrogant son he used to scold, but a man carrying the pain of being unloved. There was something raw and broken in Kairo's green eyes that made Charles' chest tighten.
"I have work to finish, Dad," Kairo said quietly, looking away. "If you came here for business, you can stay. Otherwise… please leave."
Charles opened his mouth to say something, anything, but the look on Kairo's face stopped him.
"Kairo…" he tried softly.
"Dad, please," Kairo interrupted, his voice low but firm.
Charles stood there for a moment, helpless, watching his son avoid his gaze. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out of the cabin, the sound of the closing door echoing louder than any argument they'd ever had.
Kairo sank back into his chair, exhaling deeply as the door clicked shut behind his father. He tilted his head back, eyes closing, trying to steady his breath. His chest burned with everything he hadn't said, all the anger, the years of silence, the ache of being unseen.
He could've shouted more, could've let it all spill out, but he stopped himself. Hurting his father wouldn't heal him. Still, the weight of those lonely years, the birthdays forgotten, the affection never given, pressed heavily on his heart.
To escape the ache, he let his mind wander where it always found peace, to Sara and Zayn. The memory of Sara's laughter, Zayn's tiny hands reaching for him, the warmth of their little world. His world.
A soft smile tugged at his lips, slow and genuine. For the first time since the confrontation, his heart felt steady. Whatever pain his past held, it no longer defined him. He had something worth living for now, someone who called him home.