The CEO's Rejected Wife And Secret Heir novel Chapter 92

Chapter 92: Chapter 92: That Evening

Aria pov 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

Noah bounced into the living room wearing his dinosaur pajamas, his hair still damp from his bath. Water droplets clung to the ends, leaving dark spots on his collar. He smelled like vanilla bubble bath and toothpaste.

"Mama! Daddy says we can have ice cream!" He launched himself onto the couch next to me. The cushion dipped under his weight, bouncing me slightly. His small body was warm against my side, still radiating heat from the hot bath.

"Did he now?" I looked over at Damien, who stood in the kitchen doorway looking decidedly guilty. He had one hand braced against the doorframe and the other was shoved in his pocket.

"Just a small bowl," Damien said. "He ate all his vegetables."

"It’s a school night." I kept my voice firm, but Noah’s fingers were already playing with the hem of my shirt. His hands were soft and slightly damp.

"It’s also Tuesday." Noah’s logic was flawless. "Ice cream Tuesday!"

"Since when is Tuesday ice cream day?"

"Since Daddy said so!" Noah grinned. His teeth were bright white, freshly brushed. "Right, Daddy?"

Damien’s mouth twitched. I could see the smile he was fighting. "I may have mentioned something about ice cream Tuesdays being a tradition."

"A tradition that started tonight?" I raised an eyebrow.

"All traditions start somewhere." He moved into the kitchen. I heard the freezer door open, the suction breaking with a soft pop. The metal scrape of a drawer as he pulled out the ice cream scoop. "Besides, it’s been a long day we all deserve ice cream."

Noah nodded sagely. "Very long day."

I fought a smile, my chest felt tight but in a good way. "What was so long about your day, mister?"

"Finger painting!" He held up his hands dramatically. I could still see faint traces of red paint under his fingernails. "So much painting, Mama. I’m exhausted."

"Exhausted," I repeated. "I see."

Damien returned with three bowls of ice cream. The bowls were cold against my palms when he handed me mine. Condensation was already forming on the outside. The ice cream was vanilla with chocolate swirls—Noah’s favorite, the sweet smell mixed with the vanilla from his bath.

He settled on Noah’s other side as the couch dipped again. Now Noah was sandwiched between us, his little legs swinging happily.

We ate in comfortable silence. The only sounds were spoons scraping against bowls and Noah’s running commentary on his day. The ice cream was cold and smooth on my tongue. Sweet enough to make my teeth ache.

"And then Tommy said dinosaurs are extinct but I said maybe some are hiding." Noah took a big spoonful of ice cream. Some of it stuck to his upper lip. "In caves and stuff."

"Smart thinking." Damien ruffled his hair as water droplets scattered, catching the light from the lamp.

"That’s what I said!" Noah beamed. "Tommy doesn’t know everything."

"No one knows everything," I said softly, looking at Damien over Noah’s head.

His eyes met mine. They were that ice-blue color that Noah had inherited. In this light, they looked darker.

"Some of us are still learning," Damien said quietly, his voice was rough, lower than usual. "Still trying to figure things out."

"Daddy’s learning to make different types of pancakes!" Noah announced.

"Progress," I murmured, my gaze still locked with Damien’s.

"Definitely progress." His voice was rough. I saw his throat move as he swallowed.

The moment stretched. I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears.

Noah yawned, breaking the tension. The sound was small and squeaky. "I’m sleepy."

"Bedtime." I stood, taking his empty bowl. The ceramic clinked against mine. "Come on, baby."

"I’m not a baby." Noah protested sleepily, his eyes were already half-closed. "I’m almost four."

"Almost four," I agreed, leading him toward his room.

Damien followed us. I could feel him behind us, close but not touching. His footsteps were soft on the hardwood floor.

He hovered in Noah’s doorway as I tucked him in. The nightlight cast soft shadows across the walls. Noah’s room smelled like clean sheets and the lavender spray I used on his pillow.

"Mama?" Noah grabbed my hand. His grip was getting weaker as sleep pulled at him. "Can Daddy read the story tonight?"

I glanced back at Damien, his shoulders were tense. His hands opened and closed at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them.

"If Daddy wants to."

"I want to." Damien moved to the bed as the mattress creaked slightly as he sat. He picked up the dinosaur book on Noah’s nightstand. The pages were worn soft from constant reading. "But I have to warn you, I’m not very good at the roaring parts."

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify