Dangerous Love: You Are My One and Only Bride novel Chapter 1874

Aristotle rejected Jackson’s offer to lift his suitcases for him. “It’s fine, I can do it myself. Really, it’s only packed with gifts for all of you, and they are hardly heavy. By the way, Pa West? You haven’t changed a bit—look like you just leaped out of my last memory of seeing you. Where’s Aunt Tiffany and Cindy?”

Jackson silently conceded that, as the child had now aged into a full-fledged grown-up, he should not insist on helping him with things he could rightly do by himself. “Well, they are waiting for you right inside,” he said instead. “Look at you! You’re home now. And Lil’ P is coming home soon, too… God, by next month, the three of you are officially reunited once more.”

Aristotle smiled wordlessly and sauntered into the villa’s interior.

It was but a split second, yet as Jackson stared at the young man’s back, his eyes saw Mark Tremont instead. Aristotle had too much of his father in him, and it was especially evident when one looked at him from behind. Jackson even wondered if Aristotle was sculpted from the very same mold used for his old friend.

Tiffany’s eyes reddened the moment Aristotle fell into her line of sight. “Oh my God! Aww, honey, get over here, would you? Let your Aunt Tiffany take a good look at chu’!” she gushed. “Gosh, you’re thinner than I remember, aren’t you?”

Aristotle approached her obediently and threw his arms around her shoulders, squeezing her into a hug. “I’m home, Aunt Tiffany.”

The older woman tugged on the young man’s hand and, in a pang, realized that it had grown so much larger that it now eclipsed hers.

“Aww, that’s all I ever wanted from you, honey. It must have been tough being outside, all alone! God, I swear, you’re never leaving me ever again!”

The commotion downstairs quickly reached the occupant on the first floor, prompting the young woman to rush down the stairs like a gale as her mind kept replaying imagined scenarios of their reunion over and over again in her head.

However, right at the moment she saw Aristotle, Cynthia acted against her practiced response by pumping the brakes of her sprint until she stopped right before him. Then, she spoke, but only a quiet, bashful mewling came out. “U-Um, m-m-maybe we should s-s-start our d-dinner first?”