Aria’s POV
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I sneered, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice. “And what does it matter to you? It’s not yours anyway.”
Jackson shifted uncomfortably beside me, clearly caught in the middle of this tense standoff.
His usual bravado melted away as he glanced nervously at Liam, who stood across from us with his arms crossed and eyes.
narrowed.
The atmosphere was thick with unspoken tension, and Jackson looked like he wished he could disappear.
Without a word, Liam’s eyes hardened, and he jerked his head towards the door.
“Out,” he ordered jackson, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Jackson hesitated for a split second, clearly torn, but eventually nodded and left the room, the door clicking softly behind him.
I remained where I was, watching Liam warily as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze drilling into me with an intensity that made
my skin crawl
“You’ve got some nerve coming back,” Liam scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. “You were so quick to leave that divorce agreement behind–regretting it now, are you?”
I met his head–on, refusing to back down. My heart was pounding in my chest, but I wouldn’t let him see that.
wn it was you, I wouldn’t have returned at all,” I shot back, my voice steady and firm.
Laps curled into a mocking smile that sent a wave of anger coursing through me.
he echoed, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Do you even know how much your breach of contract will cost y
The realization hit me like a cold wave. My breath caught in my throat as the truth dawned on me..
It was a trap, carefully laid out, and I had already walked right into it.
I clenched my fists at my sides, trying to keep my anger in check.
“The best decision I ever made was divorcing you,” I hissed, barely able to control the shaking in my voice.
you?”
Liam’s expression darkened, the amusement fading from his eyes, replaced by a cold bitterness. He took a step closer, his
presence looming over me, suffocating.
“Have you had enough of this nonsense?” he demanded, his voice low and menacing
Before he could say anything else, my phone rang, cutting through the tension like a knife.
I glanced at the screen and saw the name of Joe’s kindergarten flashing. My heart skipped a beat as I quickly answered, my voice
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trembling.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Aria? This is Miss Jennings from Joe’s class. I’m calling to inform you that Joe’s been injured in a fight with a classmate.
He’s alright, but there’s some bleeding, and we think it would be best if you came to pick him up.”
My heart tightened in my chest.
“Oh my gosh. I’ll be right there,” I replied quickly, my voice quivering with anxiety,
Without another word, I brushed past Liam, Ignoring his cold, furious voice as he called after me. I didn’t break my stride, didn’t
look back.
Joe needed me, and nothing else mattered.
Liam’s voice echoed behind me, demanding an explanation, but I tuned him out. Briefly, I heard the sound of his phone going off in his pocket, but I didn’t stop to care.
The door shut behind me with a finality that seemed to sever whatever tenuous connection was left between us.
When I arrived at the kindergarten, my heart dropped at the sight of Joc.
His face was smeared with blood, a deep cut on his cheek still bleeding. He was sitting on a small chair in the nurse’s office,
looking more vulnerable than I had ever seen him.
Nearby, a little boy named William was crying loudly in the teacher’s arms, accusing Joe of hitting him first. My heart broke
seeing my son in such a state, the fierce protective instinct within me rising like a tidal wave.
“Joe,” I said gently, kneeling beside him, my voice soft yet firm. “What happened, sweetheart?”
But Joe remained silent, his small hands clenched into fists, his face a mask of anger and frustration. He wouldn’t look at me, staring at the ground as if he could will it to open up and swallow him whole.
Miss Jennings, the kindergarten teacher, hovered nearby, clearly at a loss for how to handle the situation.
“He won’t talk to anyone, Ms. Aria,” she said quietly. “We’ve tried asking him what happened, but he just won’t say.”
I nodded, my focus entirely on Joe. “It’s okay, Joe,” I murmured, trying to coax him into looking at me. “You can tell me what happened. I’m here for you.
But Joe didn’t budge, his silence as heavy as a stone. His little body was trembling with suppressed emotions, and I could see the struggle written all over his face.
Suddenly, William’s voice cut through the tense silence, sharp and piercing. “He doesn’t even have a dad!”
Joe flared up instantly, his voice raw with emotion. “I do have a dad!”
“Then where is he?” William sneered, his tone taunting, as if he’d found the perfect weakness to exploit.
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Joe’s face turned bright red, his small body trembling with a mix of anger and sadness. My heart ached as I watched my son struggle, the pain of his words cutting deep into my soul.
I struggled to find the right words, to explain the complex reality of our lives in a way that a five–year–old could understand. But
before I could speak, William, now feeling triumphant, egan to brag. “My dad’s really awesome! He’s been on TV news, and he’s competed in lots of F1 races. He’ll make sure Joe gets what he deserves.”
My mind flashed to Liam, the connection striking me like a bolt of lightning. Could it be? No, I shook my head, trying to dismiss
the thought. But the seed of doubt had been planted, and it took root in my mind, refusing to be ignored.
I placed a hand on Joe’s shoulder, trying to ground him in the midst of the emotional storm he was caught in. “Joe,” I said softly, “let’s go home, okay? We’ll talk about this later.”
Joe finally looked up at me, his eyes filled with tears he was too proud to let fall. He nodded silently, and I helped him up from the chair, guiding him out of the nurse’s office. As we walked past William, I shot the boy a stern look, but he only stuck his tongue
out at Joe, still feeling victorious.
Pulling him further away from the boy, I knelt in front of Joe, wiping the blood from his cheek with a tissue I pulled from my bag.
“Does it hurt?” I asked, my voice tender.
Joe shook his head, but his eyes told a different story. I leaned in and kissed his forehead. “You’re so brave, Joe. I’m proud of you.”
Joe sniffed, his lip trembling. “But he’s right, Mom. Where’s my dad? Why doesn’t he come to see me?”
The question was like a dagger to my heart, but I forced myself to smile. “Your dad… he’s busy, sweetheart. But that doesn’t mean.
he doesn’t care about you.”
“But why doesn’t he come, even when I need him?” Joe’s voice cracked, his emotions spilling over.
I hugged him tightly, trying to shield him from the harsh reality. “I’m here, Joe. I’ll always be here for
you.”
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