Chapter 8 Unwelcome Realizations

The drive home was quiet, except for the hum of the tires against the asphalt. Liro had fallen asleep in the back seat, his head tilted to one side, his small mouth parted in exhaustion. The day had worn him out, but the smile lingering on his lips told Aira everything-he had loved every second.

Aira tightened her grip on the steering wheel. Her own thoughts were a storm, colliding too fast to make sense of.

Jason Blackwood.

She had told herself he was just a man, just her boss's intimidatingly handsome brother with more money than anyone should possess. But today proved otherwise. He had been kind. Patient. Attentive. And worse-Liro had taken to him like bees to honey.

That was dangerous.

Liro didn't understand what it meant for a man to come into their lives. He didn't know heartbreak, abandonment, or betrayal. Aira did. She had lived it.

She couldn't risk it again. Not with Jason. Not when the truth about Ethan lurked so close to the surface.

She stole a glance in the rearview mirror at her sleeping son. His trust was innocent, unscarred. And she would protect it at all costs-even if it meant pushing Jason away.

Jason, meanwhile, couldn't shake the image of Liro's small hand wrapped around his finger as they walked through the farm. The boy's laughter still echoed in his head, light and unfiltered. And then there was Aira-her guarded eyes, the way her walls seemed to crack despite her best efforts.

She was unlike anyone he had ever met.

Most women in his world had agendas. They chased him for his wealth, his name, his influence. But Aira... she kept resisting him. And that resistance only fueled his determination.

Jason leaned back in his leather chair in his penthouse office later that night, the city skyline sprawling like jewels against the dark. A glass of scotch rested untouched on his desk. Normally, this was the hour he reviewed contracts, expansions, and profit reports. But tonight, his mind wasn't on eggs or international deals. It was on her.

On them.

He couldn't ignore how natural it had felt to spend the day with her and Liro-as though they already belonged in his world. The idea unsettled him, not because it was wrong, but because it felt so right.

And Jason Blackwood was not a man who ignored instinct.

The next morning, Aira busied herself with breakfast. The smell of sizzling eggs filled their small apartment, and she tried to distract herself by focusing on the mundane-toast, orange juice, and packing Liro's lunch for school.

But her mind refused to obey.

Jason's voice replayed in her head, low and steady: Life is always complicated. But some things are worth it.

She pressed her lips together, fighting the memory. That was exactly what terrified her. He was persuasive. Too persuasive.

"Mommy," Liro mumbled sleepily as he wandered into the kitchen, his hair sticking up in all directions.

"Good morning, baby." She forced a smile, setting a plate before him. "Eat up before school."

Liro climbed onto his chair, digging into the scrambled eggs with enthusiasm. "When can we go back to the farm?"

Aira froze. "We'll see," she said carefully.

"But Jason said-"

Her chest tightened at the sound of his name on her son's lips. "Jason has a very busy life, sweetheart. We shouldn't expect him to spend all his time with us."

"But he liked it," Liro insisted. "He laughed a lot. He liked me."

Aira's throat closed. "I know," she whispered. That's the problem.

At Blackwood International headquarters, Jason sat in a meeting about supply chain projections, but his mind kept wandering. His assistant, Charles, noticed.

"You seem distracted, sir," Charles murmured discreetly as the room emptied.

Jason gave a noncommittal shrug. "Just... considering new priorities."

Charles raised an eyebrow. "Personal priorities?"

Jason shot him a look, but the corner of his mouth twitched. Charles had been with him for years-long enough to notice when his boss's armour cracked.

Jason didn't answer, but he didn't deny it either.

That evening, Aira tucked Liro into bed earlier than usual. She lingered at his bedside, brushing his hair from his forehead. He was still mumbling about the farm in his half-sleep, about chickens and ponies and Jason.

Her chest ached.

When she returned to the living room, she found her phone buzzing on the couch. Jason's name lit up the screen.

Her fingers hovered over it. Every fiber of her being screamed to ignore it, to build the distance she desperately needed. But her heart betrayed her, and she answered.

"Hello?" Her voice was tight.

"Good evening, Aira." His tone was smooth, yet not impersonal. "Did Liro enjoy his day?"

She closed her eyes, leaning against the armrest. "He did. He hasn't stopped talking about it."

"I'm glad," Jason said, a warmth in his voice that made her stomach twist.

"Jason, we can't keep doing this," she blurted before she lost her nerve. "It's not... appropriate."

Silence stretched for a beat before he spoke again, firm but calm. "What exactly are you afraid of, Aira? That I'll hurt you? Or that I'll matter too much?"

Her breath caught. "You don't understand-"

"Then help me understand," he interrupted softly. "Because I'm not walking away. Not from you. Not from him."

Her pulse thundered. His words were too close to what she wanted to hear, too close to the dream she couldn't allow herself to have.

"Jason, please," she whispered. "Don't make this harder."

But he only said, "Some things are worth the fight, Aira. And I think you are."

Before she could respond, he ended the call, leaving her trembling on the couch.

She pressed her phone to her chest, torn between fear and the dangerous spark of hope.

For years, she had convinced herself that love was a closed door. But Jason Blackwood had a way of making even locked doors feel breakable.

And that terrified her more than anything.