"I told you, baby, let's leave early. Otherwise, Zayn's going to fall asleep," Kairo said, one hand on the steering wheel, the other drumming lightly in rhythm to the soft music playing in the car.
Sara looked down at the little boy in her arms. Zayn was already half-asleep, his head nestled on her chest, tiny breaths brushing softly against her skin. "If we'd left early, your employees would've started doubting us," she replied quietly. "The other day, Selena said Zayn's eyes look like yours."
Kairo smirked, a proud gleam flickering in his green eyes. "She's not wrong, though. He is my son. Of course, he'll inherit features from me."
Sara turned her head sharply, almost glaring. "That's the problem, it's so obvious that he resembles you. She doesn't even know our relationship. If we left together from the office, everyone would've started gossiping."
He chuckled under his breath, eyes still on the road. "Let them know, darling. I'm going to announce it one day anyway, that you're my wife and Zayn's my son."
Her expression softened, worry lacing her voice. "I don't know what they might think, Kairo. They'll definitely say I had an affair with my boss and—"
He cut her off firmly. "Nobody will dare say that." His tone turned protective, almost commanding. "That's none of their business. You're my wife. Zayn's my child. That's the only truth."
Sara looked at him quietly. That rare certainty in his voice made her chest flutter.
He smiled, stealing a quick glance at her. "Don't worry, soda glass… you're the boss lady of Novacore."
She raised an eyebrow. "Who made that rule?"
"I did," he said proudly. "The day I married you."
She rolled her eyes. "We're married, but that doesn't mean I've accepted you as my husband."
He chuckled. "Liar. Stop pretending and admit how much you love me."
She gave a side eye. "Excuse me? Get out of your delusion."
He grinned. "Me? Delusional? You little stalker, one day I'm definitely going to tell Zayn how his mother stalked his father."
Her eyes widened. "No, you won't."
"Stop me if you can," he challenged, smirking.
"I swear, if you tell Zayn anything about our past—" she warned, glaring.
He laughed softly, enjoying her flustered little bursts of anger. "Why not? I'll definitely tell him our love story, and how he came into this world to reunite us."
"Kairo…" she said through gritted teeth.
"What?" he teased, eyes twinkling. "He's my son. I have the right to tell him how his dad fell for his mom. Our sweet, hot love story."
Sara glared at him, but he only grinned wider. "Damn, don't look at me like that, soda glass. I'm driving, and I don't want to get turned on in front of my innocent child."
She smirked this time, her tone sharp and playful. "Oh, really? Are you also going to tell him that his asshole father took his mother to a stripping club on their first date and—" she paused deliberately, "— and had fun with other chicks in front of his mother?"
Kairo froze. The smirk vanished.
Sara grinned triumphantly. "What happened, Mr. Former Fuckboy? Cat got your tongue?"
He blinked, then looked at her, and that dangerous smirk returned. "I'll also tell him how his mother left his father undone that night… with just her hands," he whispered, voice dropping low.
Sara's cheeks turned crimson instantly. "Kairo!"
He chuckled, eyes flickering with memory. "Damn, what an experience. I still remember that night. The day I felt something not just in my body, but here—" he touched his chest softly, "—in my heart too. So lovely. So pleasurable... So heavenly... So..."
"Enough!" she interrupted, face flaming. "Focus on the road!"
He laughed, thoroughly enjoying her flustered state.
"You're impossible," she muttered under her breath.
Kairo leaned closer, still driving with one hand. "I'm still waiting to feel that again," he murmured, mischievous as ever.
Sara grabbed a neck pillow from the backseat and smacked it at him. "Shut up, you pervert!"
He laughed louder, completely unbothered. "The damn beautiful hands… stroking my—"
"Stop it, Kairo!" she yelled, covering Zayn's ears instinctively.
He only laughed harder, delighting in every reaction, every flustered moment she gave him.
"Baby, we—"
"Enough! No talking!" she snapped.
Kairo chuckled, finally falling silent, but stealing glances from her flustered face. After a few moments, he slowed the car and pulled it to the side.
Sara frowned. "Why did you stop? You're not doing something stupid, are you?"
He took off his seat belt and leaned closer to her.
"Zayn's here, behave, asshole," she muttered.
He looked at her with a teasing smirk. "We're here, darling… the restaurant."
She blinked and glanced out the window; the familiar restaurant lights reflected on the glass.
Kairo leaned back with a grin. "I'm not that asshole anymore."
Sara exhaled in relief. "Good. Because if you—"
Before she could finish, he leaned over again and stole a quick, playful kiss from her lips.
Her eyes widened, and he laughed, jumping out of the car like a mischievous teenager. "Correction," he said, flashing his grin through the window, "I'm a big asshole now."
"Kairo!" she yelled, half-angry, half-embarrassed.
He only laughed harder, walking around to open her door. "Come on, love. You'll make people think I left my wife stranded."
"Fuck you," she muttered under her breath.
He smirked, leaning closer. "Anytime, darling."
Sara rolled her eyes, biting back a smile.
Sara stepped out of the car, holding Zayn, while Kairo continued laughing like a child. She glared at him, but he just came over, and when she pushed him, he laughed again before pulling her close and kissing the top of her head.
Gently, he took Zayn from her arms, letting the little boy rest on his shoulder, and then guided her inside the restaurant. "Let's go, boss lady," he murmured.
Her lips twitched with a suppressed smile, but she quickly hid it, unable to resist the warmth of his playful energy.
And together, with their little world asleep between them, they walked into the warm light of the restaurant, laughter and love following close behind.
The soft scent of freshly baked bread and grilled spices welcomed them inside. It was a warm little place tucked away from the noise, dim lights, wooden furniture, and soft jazz playing in the background. Kairo had clearly chosen this place intentionally.
He placed Zayn gently on the couch of their private booth, covering him with his baby jacket before sitting opposite her. She noticed the way his fingers brushed Zayn's hair so carefully… and, kissing his tiny nose gently, something in her chest softened despite herself.
"Why do you always have to turn everything into a drama?" she asked as the waiter poured them water.
He leaned back, eyes glinting. "Because life with you was never meant to be boring."
Sara rolled her eyes. "Asshole."
He smirked. "And yet, you still love me."
Her lips parted, ready to deny, but his gaze held her still, intense yet playful, the same one that used to make her knees weak years ago. She sighed, shaking her head, pretending to focus on the menu.
After they ordered, he leaned in again, resting his elbows on the table."You know…" he said softly, voice dipping lower, "when you hold Zayn like this, it drives me insane."
She looked up sharply. "Kairo."
"What? I'm just saying," he whispered, eyes burning into hers, "the way you look as a mother… It's too damn beautiful. Makes me want to—"
"Stop," she warned again, cheeks reddening.
He smirked, lowering his voice further, "—makes me want to remind you that I'm still the man who knows exactly how to make you blush without even touching you."
Her eyes darted away. "You're such a flirt."
"Completely," he said proudly. "And you love that about me."
"Do you ever stop flirting?" she asked, hiding a shy smile behind the glass of water.
"Never," he replied. "Especially when my wife looks this good even after threatening me all the way here."
The waiter arrived with their food, saving her from replying. As he served, Kairo quietly reached under the table, brushing his fingers against hers. She froze, then slowly looked up; his eyes sparkled, mischievous and soft all at once.
"Don't," she mouthed.
He smiled wider and whispered, "Too late."
For a moment, it felt like time had stilled, just them, the quiet clinking of cutlery, Zayn sleeping peacefully, and Kairo's thumb tracing circles against her hand under the table.
She sighed, torn between irritation and affection, and quietly gave up fighting.
Time passed with stolen glances, quiet laughter, and soft teasing. By the time they finished dinner, Zayn woke up due to discomfort. Kairo took him in his arms, entertaining him, feeding him small bites of dessert. Sara admired both of them.
"You want something else, my boy?" Kairo asked softly, brushing Zayn's hair back.
Zayn shook his head sleepily. "No."
"Okay," Kairo smiled, "stay with Mumma for a bit, okay? Dada needs to use the washroom." He handed the little boy over to Sara and walked away.
Sara smiled down at her son, adjusting his jacket gently. "My baby boy slept early today," she murmured lovingly. "Were you tired, sweetie, hmm?"
Just then, a cold splash hit her dress.
"Ahhh!" she gasped, looking down to see dark soda dripping from her outfit.
"I'm so sorry, ma'am!" a teenage boy said, panicked. He looked about fourteen or fifteen, holding a half-empty glass. "I didn't mean to, let me help!" He grabbed a napkin and began dabbing at the spot nervously.
"It's okay," Sara said, startled but trying to calm him. Yet as her eyes met his, something inside her froze. Those eyes, sharp green with a soft warmth, looked achingly familiar. Her heart skipped a beat.
"What did you do now, Kael?" a woman's voice came from behind.
The boy turned quickly. "Mom, I just spilled it by mistake."
Sara looked up, and her breath caught in her throat. The woman standing there, poised, elegant, maybe in her late forties, had the same unmistakable green eyes. Familiar. Too familiar.
"I'm so sorry," the woman said politely. "He can be clumsy sometimes."
Sara managed a small smile, trying to mask her sudden unease. "No, it's alright. I'll just go wash up."
At that moment, Kairo returned, wiping his hands with a tissue. "What happened, baby?" he asked casually, then stopped dead.
The woman and her son turned toward him.
Kairo's face went pale. His breath hitched. He froze where he stood.
Because in front of him was the face he never expected to see again.
"Kairo…" the woman breathed out, her voice trembling, like she'd been holding that name in her chest for years.
Kairo froze. His jaw tightened, eyes darkening with a storm that had been buried too long. The air around him seemed to thicken. His face turned red, anger flickering beneath the shock.
Sara looked between them, confused. The teenage boy blinked, glancing from his mother to Kairo, not understanding what was happening.
The woman took a hesitant step forward, her lips parting as if she wanted to say something, but before she could, another calm, deep voice broke through the tension.
"What happened, honey?"
Sara turned toward the sound, and her heart nearly stopped.
Her breath caught in her throat. "Dad?" she whispered, eyes wide as she stared at the man standing beside the woman.
And in that moment, silence fell.
Kairo's gaze shifted from the woman who had spoken his name to the man Sara had just called Dad.
Everything, past and present, collided in that one stunned heartbeat.