Chapter 32 Talking to Aiden

Chapter 32 Talking to Aiden
Liana's POV

The morning light, filtered through unfamiliar hotel curtains, roused me gently. Liam was still a warm, heavy weight beside me, his breathing even. We’d managed to find a decent place last night after Aiden insisted we shouldn't spend another night camping out in the car. It had been strange, sleeping in a room that wasn’t ours, but the small mercy of a soft bed after the chaos of the day before was not lost on me.

We ate a quick, slightly over greasy breakfast from the hotel’s complimentary buffet. Liam, bless his heart, even found joy in the lukewarm scrambled eggs. As he demolished a waffle, my phone chirped. It was Felicia.

“Hey, stranger,” she said, her voice bright with relief. “How are you two settling in?”

“We’re alright, Fee,” I told her, trying to infuse my voice with cheer I didn't entirely feel yet. “Hotel life for now. Aiden says the house should be ready today.”

“Oh, good! I was so worried about you both,” she confessed. “Liam, is he okay? Tell him I said hi.”

I handed the phone to my son. “It’s Auntie Felicia, honey.”

Liam’s face lit up. “Auntie Fee!” he squealed, launching into a detailed account of the cartoon he watched that morning. I smiled, listening to their banter. Felicia truly did adore him.

After a few minutes, Liam passed the phone back. “He’s certainly got a lot to say,” Felicia chuckled. “Listen, I really miss you, Liana. This place feels… empty without you. I’m off duty next week. I promise I’ll come visit you two, alright? After you’re all settled.”

“That would be great, Fee. Really.” Her promise of a visit was a comfort I hadn’t realized I needed. “We miss you too.”

“Good. Now go get your new life started. Call me.”

With a final goodbye, I hung up, feeling a flutter of warmth in my chest. Some things, at least, hadn’t changed.

It was Saturday, a fact that felt both irrelevant and significant. The delivery trucks had been a whirlwind of activity all morning. Aiden, true to his word, had arranged everything. By the time we pulled up to the house — our house, I still wasn't used to thinking that — a cleaning crew was putting the finishing touches on the sparkling windows, and most of the furniture was already in place.

Aiden met us at the door, a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. He looked less like a billionaire and more like a very competent project manager. “Welcome home,” he said, his smile genuine. “It’s about ninety percent there. Just a few boxes to unpack.”

I walked past him, Liam trailing behind me, wide-eyed. The house no longer felt like a hollow shell. It was becoming a home. The living room, a sprawling space that once echoed, now held a plush sofa and armchairs, a large coffee table.

Aiden followed me. “I had the master suite prepped for you,” he began, gesturing down a hallway. “It’s got a private balcony, a huge walk-in closet…”

I shook my head. “No, thank you, Aiden.” He paused, a question in his eyes. “I’m not a fan of big, cavernous rooms. They feel… lonely. Too much space.” I scanned the other rooms, smaller, cozier. “I saw two others that looked perfect. One for me, one for Liam. Is that alright?”

He looked slightly taken aback but recovered quickly. “Of course. Whatever makes you comfortable.” His eyes met mine, holding a hint of understanding. “We can start moving your things into those now.”

The rest of the afternoon was a blur of unpacking boxes, arranging books on shelves, and finding homes for Liam’s toys. Aiden was surprisingly hands-on, carrying boxes, assembling a small table for Liam’s room. It felt… domestic. Normal. A far cry from the life I’d been living.

By late afternoon, the house finally started to feel lived in. There were still boxes, of course, but the essentials were done. We were technically moved in.

“Ice cream,” Liam declared suddenly, from where he was meticulously lining up his toy cars on his new rug. “I want ice cream.”

“Not now, honey,” I said, rubbing at a smudge of dust on my cheek. “We just had dinner. It’s too late.” I knew he'd had a long day and too much sugar would only make him bouncy when he needed sleep.

He pouted, a classic Liam move. “But I want ice cream! Papa, I want ice cream!” He turned his big, innocent eyes on Aiden, who was leaning against the doorframe, watching us.

My stomach dropped. Papa. The word, so easily uttered by Liam, hit me with a jolt. Aiden’s expression softened, a warmth I recognized from before.

“Liam, no,” I said, a little too sharply. “I said no. It’s late.”

Liam, however, was already halfway across the room, wrapping his small arms around Aiden’s leg. “Please, Papa? Just a little ice cream?”

Aiden looked down at Liam, then up at me, a playful challenge in his eyes. “He’s got a point, Liana. It’s been a long day. We deserve a treat.”

“He doesn’t deserve anything that close to bedtime,” I retorted, crossing my arms. “Don’t you dare give in, Aiden. He’ll never let me say no if you do.”

Aiden knelt, ruffling Liam’s hair. “What’s your favorite flavor, buddy?”

“Chocolate chip cookie dough!” Liam exclaimed, practically bouncing.

I glared at Aiden. “Honestly, you’re encouraging bad behavior.”

He stood, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Or… I’m just being a good… friend. And fulfilling a small boy’s reasonable request after a very taxing move.” He held out a hand to Liam. “Come on, let’s go get some ice cream.”

Liam let out a delighted squeal and grabbed Aiden’s hand. They were already heading for the door.

“Aiden!” I said, exasperated. “I’m not going.”

He paused, turning back. “Oh no, you are. You need a treat too. And you need to supervise my sugar choices since you’re so concerned.” He winked. “Besides, I need someone to tell me which flavor to pick for myself.”

I sighed, defeated. There was no winning this, not when Liam was clinging to his hand, looking up at him with such adoration. The word papa still echoed in my mind.

“Fine,” I grumbled, grabbing my jacket. “But if he’s up all night, you’re dealing with it.”

Aiden’s laughter filled the kitchen. “Deal.”

We ended up at a brightly lit ice cream parlor a few minutes away. The air was sweet with the smell of sugar and waffle cones. Liam, of course, got a double scoop of chocolate chip cookie dough. Aiden, after much deliberation and my forced suggestion, chose mint chocolate chip. I settled for a simple vanilla, almost out of principle.

We found a small booth to sit in, next to a window overlooking the street. The quiet hum of conversation and the clinking of spoons filled the air. Aiden, between bites of his ice cream, watched me. I felt his gaze, hot and steady, even when I pretended to be absorbed in Liam's messy consumption.

“So, what’s the verdict?” he asked, finally breaking the silence, his eyes still on me. “Is your room satisfactory? The other one for Liam?”

“They’re perfect, Aiden,” I said, meeting his gaze for a second before looking away. “Thank you. For all of this. For making it happen so quickly.”

“It’s nothing,” he said, but his eyes held mine again, a silent conversation passing between us. He was grateful, I knew. But there was something else too, something that mirrored the confusing flutter in my own chest. A familiar pull, a sense of rightness when he was near. I pushed it down, hard. Liam was my only focus. My work. Anything else was a distraction I couldn't afford.

We ordered a pizza after the ice cream, deciding we might as well make a night of it. As we waited, munching on breadsticks, Aiden cleared his throat.

“I… I really appreciate you coming back, Liana,” he said, his voice softer now. More serious. His eyes were direct, unwavering. “I know this place must hold… difficult memories for you. Mixed feelings, to say the least. But you came. For Liam. For… another chance, maybe.”

I swallowed, the breadstick suddenly dry in my mouth. He was right. This town, this whole situation, was a minefield of old hurts and new complexities. Yet, here I was.

“Aiden, I…” I started, searching for the right words, for a way to explain the tangled mess of emotions that had led me back.

But before I could elaborate, a sudden, piercing shriek cut through the air. “MAMA!” The sound was high-pitched, raw with terror, erupting from a nearby booth.