Chapter 53 CHAPTER 53
A New Spark
The city morning was fresh and bright, the kind of morning that almost tricked you into believing life could be simple again. Ayisha laced up her sneakers, stretched by the gate, and slipped her earbuds in. Running was her therapy, each pounding step on the pavement drowned out the noise of courts, lawsuits, betrayals, and Bianca’s venom.
She started slow, her breath syncing with the rhythm of her playlist. The tree lined path curved along the park, golden light spilling through leaves. For a moment, she felt weightless. Just her, her heartbeat, and the cool bite of dawn air.
But halfway into her jog, someone came up beside her.
At first, she ignored the sound of heavier footsteps pacing her stride. But when she glanced sideways, her stomach did a small flip.
Tall. Broad shoulders. Strong jawline. Sweat glistening along his temples. His dark curls bounced with every step. His pace matched hers like they’d rehearsed it. He gave her a grin—confident, easy, like he knew the effect he had on women.
“Morning,” he said between breaths.
Ayisha’s pulse stuttered for reasons that had nothing to do with running. “Morning.”
“You always run this route?” His voice was smooth, playful, not winded in the least.
She raised a brow. “You make a habit of chasing strangers?”
“Only the pretty ones,” he shot back, flashing a smile that made her want to roll her eyes and smile at the same time.
Ayisha laughed despite herself, pushing harder into her pace, determined not to let him see her flustered. But he kept up, his stride effortless.
“Name’s Damien,” he offered after a beat.
“Ayisha.”
He repeated it under his breath, savoring the sound, as though tucking it into memory. “Ayisha. Beautiful name for a beautiful runner.”
She scoffed, though her cheeks warmed. “You’re too smooth. That line has got to be older than you.”
“Older, maybe,” he admitted, “but still true.”
By the time they looped back toward the park entrance, Ayisha found herself laughing more than she had in weeks. The weight she carried—Lady Bianca’s plots, Tessa’s heartbreak, Ares’s confessions—slipped from her shoulders, if only for a little while.
Damien slowed, pulling out his phone. “I’d like to run with you again. Or maybe not run…dinner, coffee, whatever gets me another chance to see that smile.”
Her lips quirked. He was bold, almost arrogant, but the good kind. The kind that wrapped itself in charm. Against her better judgment, she rattled off her number.
As his phone buzzed to confirm the saved contact, Damien winked. “I’ll text you tonight. Don’t leave me hanging, Ayisha.”
She shook her head, amused, and jogged away, trying to ignore the butterflies dancing in her stomach.
That night, the house was quiet. Too quiet. Tessa sat at the kitchen table, papers spread around her—documents, scribbled notes, strategies she wanted to review before meeting Ares. Her face was taut with worry. The kids, her kids, were all she thought about now.
“Ayisha,” Tessa called, “can you sit with me for a bit? We need to go over what we’ll say when we meet Ares. We have to be clear, united.”
But Ayisha was curled up on the couch, phone glowing in her hands. She was smiling, thumbs flying over the screen. A giggle escaped her, light and girlish, startling even to her own ears.
Tessa frowned. “What’s funny?”
Ayisha waved her off, cheeks flushed. “Nothing, just—never mind.”
The phone buzzed again. Ayisha tapped quickly, her grin widening.
Tessa leaned back, exasperated. “Ayisha, this is important. We’re talking about Jamal, Kamal, Beauty, Pretty. We can’t afford to be distracted.”
But Ayisha barely heard her. Damien had sent another message: Can’t stop thinking about how good you looked running this morning. Do you always look that flawless at 6 a.m., or was that just for me?
She bit her lip, laughing softly as she typed back: Don’t flatter yourself. I look flawless all the time. You should check me out online. I’m an influencer…celebrity.
Her heart fluttered. It had been so long since anyone genuinely made her feel…light. Desired. Seen, not as someone’s ally in a messy war, but as a woman. Just a woman.
Meanwhile, Tessa drummed her fingers against the table. “Ayisha, please. Focus. Ares wants to meet me. I need to know what to say. What if he tries to twist things? What if he’s not sincere? You’re the one who convinced me to walk away from Bianca, remember? I need your help now.”
Ayisha nodded absently, eyes still on her phone. “Mm-hmm, yeah, of course.”
Another ping. Another teasing message. Another rush of butterflies.
Tessa’s voice grew sharper. “Ayisha! Did you even hear me?”
Ayisha looked up, startled. “What? Yeah, I heard you. You’re meeting Ares, you’re nervous. It’ll be fine, Tess.” Her phone buzzed again and she instantly glanced back down, her smile tugging at her lips.
Tessa stared at her, disbelief flooding her face. “You’re flirting. You’re actually sitting here flirting while I’m trying to talk about my children?”
Ayisha flushed but didn’t apologize. Instead, she giggled again, typing quickly: You’re trouble, Damien.
Tessa’s chair scraped back. Her chest rose and fell, anger tightening her voice. “You know what? Forget it. Clearly, I’m wasting my time. Go enjoy your… whatever that is. I’ll figure this out myself.”
She gathered her papers in shaking hands and stormed toward her room, the slam of her door echoing down the hall.
Ayisha blinked, the sound breaking through her haze of giddy distraction. For a fleeting moment, guilt pricked her chest. But then another message popped up: I like the sound of being your kind of trouble.
Her lips curved despite herself. The guilt was drowned in the rush of something sweeter, something she hadn’t tasted in too long—romantic excitement.
As the clock ticked past midnight, Ayisha lay sprawled on her bed, phone pressed to her ear, whispering into the dark.
“Goodnight, Damien,” she said softly, smiling into the shadows.
Tessa’s muffled sobs from the next room went unheard.
One swept into the tide of longing for her children, the other into the whirlpool of a new, intoxicating love.