Chapter 93 MY LIFE WAS

Chapter 93 MY LIFE WAS
Aiden

I flipped on the lights to see Roman standing there, barefoot and staring up at me.

"How long have you been standing here?"

"I followed you from the sitting room," he replied casually.

Followed me? How the hell did I not notice?

"Why aren't you sleeping?"

No answer.

"Do you need something?"

His eyes dropped to the bottle in my hand.

"Oh." I tilted it slightly. "You're thirsty."

I extended it toward him.

He looked at the rim, then at me, his nose wrinkled.

"Mister, can't I get another bottle?"

"Right."

I grabbed a new one from the fridge and crouched in front of him, bringing us eyes level.

When he reached for it, I pulled it back.

His brows furrowed.

"Why do you keep calling me, Mister?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes like I was the exhausting one. "What else should I call you?"

Daddy.

The word rose instantly. I wanted to hear it from his mouth. I really did. But I'd been absent for too long, and it would be shameless to demand something I hadn't earned.

"Call me Aiden," I said instead.

He stared at me surprised, then let out a small chuckle that sounded suspiciously like mockery.

"Stupid."

He snatched the bottle and turned toward the hallway.

I blinked, confused for half a second before moving and hooking a hand into the waistband of his pyjamas pants and lifting him clean off the floor.

He squirmed instantly, his face turning red from embarrassment.

"Let go of me!"

His legs kicked in the air.

"Uhhand me!"

I raised a brow. "Unhand?"

He glared down at me.

I really need to know where he learns these sides he only showed me.

"Put me down."

"Call me Aiden."

"No."

I lifted him a little higher, and his eyes widened immediately.

"If you don't, I'll keep you hanging like this."

"I'll scream," he threatened.

"Scream then. That's if you are okay with waking your mummy up."

He gasped, then shook his head at me like I had deeply disappointed him. "Bad, Mister." 

"Yes, I am a bad Mister," I agreed with him, setting him on the kitchen island. 

The moment his feet touched the marble, I slid the chairs farther back with my foot when he tried to jump on one of them.

He looked at the distance to the floor, then huffed, folding his arms stubbornly and turning his head away in a dramatic but cute protest.

"Hey."

He didn't respond nor turn.

"Why don't you like me?"

"Should I have a reason not to?"

I'll squeeze that smart mouth one of these days.

"So you aren't even trying to deny it?"

"Hmph."

"Do you love your mummy?"

I had barely finished my sentence when his answer came. "Yes."

"Why?"

He turned to me like I had just asked the dumbest thing on earth.

"Because she's mummy."

Fair enough.

I tilted my head slightly. "What if I'm your daddy then? Would you—"

"God forbid."

He caught me off so fast I was taken aback.

I was only trying to see his reaction, but damn. Those two words and the seriousness in which he said them stung more than I expected. 

"Why?" I asked quietly.

"I don't want a daddy."

"That's not an answer."

He looked down at his hands as he picked at the skin around his fingers.

I studied him for a second before asking softly, "Are you scared she'll love him more than you?"

His shoulders lifted, and then he nodded his head. 

That honesty and the fact he felt comfortable enough to share it with me shifted something in my chest. 

He wasn't being difficult and annoying now. He was just a kid afraid of being replaced. 

I stepped closer and hooked a finger under his chin, lifting his face so he had no choice but to look at me.

"Do you think love works that way?"

"Doesn't it?" His black eyes stared at me cutely.

Now I see why Leah falls for his tricks easily.

"It doesn't."

He looked confused.

I exhaled slowly, leaning back against the edge of the kitchen island as I thought of a better way to explain it to him.

"See, I don't really know how it works either, man. But one thing I do know is that your mother will never love anyone more than you."

His eyes flicked up to mine, searching for any sign of a lie. "Really?"

"Really."

"Do you love my mummy?" He asked innocently.

"Yes."

He blinked, shocked, and then frowned. "You can't."

"Why?"

"Because I don't like it."

A corner of my mouth twitched depite myself. "What if your mummy loves me?"

"No, she doesn't," he cried.

That was when I noticed the shadow by the doorway. Leah, who stood, listening.

"But what if she does?" I pressed gently.

I saw the thought forming, but he seemed to not like what he was imagining because his eyes grew wet immediately.

Shit.

I cupped his face. "Hey. Hey. Don't do that."

He blinked hard, trying not to cry.

"I'm not here to take anything from you," I said firmly. "Even if I tried, I couldn't. "

His bottom lip kept trembling.

"Think of it like this," I continued. "I will protect her until you're big enough to do it yourself. Deal?"

His breathing slowed as he considered it for a moment. Then he replied, "Deal."

Relief flickered through me.

Maybe we were actually getting somewhere. One step at a time.

"But I can't call you that," he added suddenly. "Mummy cries every night she says it."

My gaze lifted to where Leah's shadow hadn't moved. 

"She won't have a reason to cry in her sleep again," I said quietly, eyes still on her shadow. Then I looked back at him with a smile. "I'll make sure of it."

He accepted that without another question. At least, that's what it felt like.

"Can I go to bed now?"

"Sure."

I helped him down and held out my hand. He hesitated, then placed his fingers in mine reluctantly. 

We walked slowly down the hallway, giving Leah enough time to slip back into the room.

"Goodni—"

He snatched his hand from mine, stepped inside, and slammed the door in my face.

The wood vibrated under the impact as I stood there in silence, then slowly lifted my fist, considering punching through the damn thing but stopped myself. 

"That little brat," I muttered.

I really thought we had made progress.

But if he's anything like me, doesn't share, he won't surrender easily. And that's fine. There's time. He'll learn one way or another.



The door opened before my knucles touched it, revealing Leah in a short yellow sundress that left little to the imagination.

Morning light spilt across her face from the window in the hallway, catching in her hair and turning it almost gold.

I had seen her like this a hundred times, a thousand even. But it still knocked the damn air out of my lungs.

"Good morning," she said with a smile, her green eyes sparkling.

"M-morning," I rasped, sounding like a fucking idiot as my gaze dropped to her chest and my breathing seized.

She wasn't wearing a fucking bra and the thin fabric did nothing to hide the outline of her hardened nipples, begging for my mouth.

She giggled, tucking her hair behind her ear, unaware or pretending to be unaware of the effect she was having on me. 

I dragged my eyes back to her face, taking in her pink soft lips I wanted to sink my teeth into, the faint shadows beneath her eyes and the brusies on face that were finally fading into a sickly yellow.

She glanced back over her shoulder and lowered her voice. "He's still sleeping."

"Yeah," I murmured, distracted by her nipples again.

"Stop staring at me like that." 

Her cheeks turned red as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"How can I when you look so fucking beautiful?"

Her cheeks flushed deeper and she shoved lightly at my chest. "Asshole."