CHAPTER 3

CATRIONA

“Abriel, stop this.” My voice wavered as I took another step into the room, my heart pounding against my ribs. The golden light surrounding Jayden flickered like a flame caught in the wind, but it didn’t fade. My son’s small fingers twitched, his jaw clenched as he held his father captive with nothing more than his sheer will.

Jayden struggled harder. “Catriona, do something! He won’t listen to me!” His voice was thick with frustration, but underneath it, I heard something else—fear.

Abriel’s lip curled slightly, his nostrils flaring.

Realising words alone wouldn’t reach him, I moved toward him slowly, my steps deliberate. When I reached the bed, I knelt beside him and wrapped my arms around his small body, pulling him close. He tensed for a moment, his power resisting, the glow flaring bright. But then, just as suddenly, the golden light shattered, fading into nothingness. Jayden collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath, his face etched with frustration and something else—shock.

Abriel was shaking, but he didn’t make a sound. No sobs, no cries—just silent tremors that wracked his little body. My heart clenched as I held him tighter, stroking his back in slow, soothing motions. He buried his face against me, his small hands gripping my shirt as if afraid I might disappear too.

Jayden pushed himself up from the floor, his expression dark with frustration. His gaze flickered between Abriel and me, his jaw tightening as if he wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. After a moment, he exhaled sharply and turned on his heel, striding out of the room without another word.

I let out a slow breath, feeling Abriel’s small body still trembling in my arms. I pulled back slightly, brushing his curls away from his forehead as I searched his face. His eyes were still wet, his lips pressed together tightly.

“What’s wrong, baby?” I whispered, hoping for some kind of response. But he only sniffled, his gaze dropping as he clung to me even tighter.

My heart clenched. He wasn’t ready to talk, and that was okay. I pressed a soft kiss to his temple and rocked him gently, letting him find comfort in my arms. Whatever had just happened had shaken him deeply, and I wasn’t going to push him to explain it before he was ready.

Without another word, I lifted him into my arms and carried him out of the room. His grip on me didn’t loosen, his tiny hands clutching my shirt as though afraid I might disappear.

As we entered the living room, I spotted Miss Olivier standing by the window, her arms folded tightly across her chest. Her gaze was fixed outside, watching something with a worried expression. When she heard us approach, she turned, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“Jayden doesn’t look happy at all,” she murmured, her eyes flickering between me and Abriel.

I sighed, adjusting my hold on Abriel as I met her gaze. “I know,” I admitted, but I didn’t elaborate. My heart was heavy with worry, torn between Jayden’s frustration and Abriel’s pain. I didn’t have the energy to discuss it now.

Instead, I leaned in and kissed Miss Olivier’s cheek softly. “We’ll talk over the phone,” I told her gently.

She gave a small nod, understanding in her eyes. “Take care of him.”

With that, I walked out of the house, still cradling Abriel close to my chest. As I approached Jayden’s car, I finally set him down, reaching to open the door so I could buckle him into his seat.

But before I could even guide him inside, Abriel suddenly turned and bolted away. My heart lurched as I watched him run—not toward Jayden’s car, but toward mine.

“Abriel!” I called, rushing after him.

He didn’t stop. He reached my car, yanked the door open with surprising urgency, and climbed into his car seat without hesitation. He fastened the buckle himself, his expression stubborn and set.

I stood there for a moment, stunned. Abriel had never outright refused to ride with Jayden before.

I turned toward Jayden, ready to say something about our son’s behaviour, but before I could get a word out, he spoke first.

“Just take him home,” Jayden said, his voice tight. “I need to stop by somewhere.”

I hesitated, searching his face for anything more, but he didn’t offer an explanation. Instead, he turned away, heading toward his car without another word.

A lump formed in my throat as I exhaled softly, then turned back to Abriel.

As Jayden’s car disappeared down the road, I let out a slow breath, my fingers tightening around the steering wheel. I already knew what was coming. When he got back, we were going to fight. Again. The tension between us had been simmering for too long, and tonight would be no different.

But right now, I couldn’t focus on that.

I turned to Abriel, forcing a bright smile even though my chest still ached. “Alright, my little love. Let’s get home, okay?” I kept my voice light, hoping to ease the weight pressing down on both of us.

Abriel didn’t look at me. Instead, he dropped his head, letting his dark hair fall over his face like a curtain, hiding him from the world. My heart clenched at the sight. He knew. He knew I wasn’t happy. He knew what he did wasn’t good.

I reached over, gently brushing the strands of hair from his face, tucking them behind his ear. My fingers lingered for a moment, offering comfort in the only way I could. “Hey,” I whispered. “It’s okay.”

He didn’t lift his head, didn’t meet my eyes. Instead, his small hands fisted the fabric of his pants, his whole body tense with emotions too big for him to hold.

----

I didn’t take the road home. Instead, I made a turn, heading toward the city mall. Abriel didn’t notice at first, too lost in whatever thoughts were swirling in his little head, but when the familiar bright lights of the mall parking lot came into view, he finally lifted his head.

His brows pulled together in confusion as he looked at me.

I smiled, hoping he could see the warmth behind it. “I thought we could stop by the playground for a little while,” I said softly. “What do you think?”

For a moment, he just stared at me, his brown eyes unreadable. Then, ever so slightly, his lips parted as if he wanted to say something—but of course, no words came. Instead, he just nodded, a small, hesitant movement, but enough to make relief rush through me.

I parked the car and got out, moving to open his door. He unbuckled himself and held up his arms, a silent request I was all too happy to grant. Lifting him into my arms, I pressed a kiss to his temple before setting him down on his feet.

The indoor kids' park was tucked inside the mall’s second level, a space filled with bright colours, soft play structures, and the sound of laughter. It was late enough that the crowd had thinned, making it easier for Abriel to move around without feeling overwhelmed.

I watched as he hesitated by the entrance, his hands tightening into little fists at his sides.

I crouched beside him. “Go on, baby,” I encouraged gently. “I’ll be right here.”

He looked at me for a long moment, then back at the other kids climbing and running through the obstacle course. Finally, he let out a slow breath and stepped forward.

At first, he moved cautiously, his small frame weaving through the different play areas as if testing the waters. But then, something shifted. He climbed onto the soft ramp leading up to the slide, and when he reached the top, his lips parted in the smallest smile. He slid down, landing at the bottom with a soft thump.

I clapped lightly from my seat on the bench, and he turned toward me, his eyes brighter than they had been all evening. Encouraged, he climbed up again—this time, faster.

Minutes turned into an hour as he ran, played, and even interacted with a few other kids. The weight on his small shoulders seemed to lighten with each climb, each slide, each laugh—silent but unmistakable.

Seeing him like this, even if just for a little while, made my chest ache in the best way.

Eventually, though, it was time to go. When I motioned for him, he pouted slightly but didn’t protest as he walked back over, his cheeks flushed from playing. I crouched down to fix the loose strap on his shoes, brushing a stray curl from his forehead as I did.

“Feel better?” I asked.

He nodded, then wrapped his arms around my neck in a hug that said more than words ever could.

I held him close, inhaling the faint scent of baby shampoo still lingering in his hair. “Good,” I whispered. “Let’s go home, love.”

As I held Abriel’s small hand in mine, we made our way toward the exit of the kids' play area. His fingers were warm, his grip steady, and for a moment, everything felt lighter—like maybe, just maybe, this night wouldn’t end in exhaustion or another fight.

But just as we stepped through the doors leading back into the mall, I almost collided with someone entering.

“Oh—sorry,” I mumbled automatically, stepping back to steady myself.

I looked up.

And froze.

Gabriel.

My breath hitched, my heart slamming against my ribs as if trying to escape. The world around me faded, drowned out by the sheer weight of his presence. He looked exactly the same—tall, composed, the same sharp eyes that used to see straight through me.

The last person I ever thought I’d see again.

Shock rooted me to the spot, but before I could even process the moment, Abriel’s hand slipped from mine. My body jolted as I turned to him, but he was already moving.

Straight toward Gabriel.

I barely had time to react before Abriel threw his arms around Gabriel’s legs, hugging him tightly.

Gabriel stiffened, his entire body going rigid. His hands hovered in the air for a second before he cautiously lowered them, hesitating as if unsure whether he should touch Abriel or not.

Then Abriel lifted his head, looking up at him with those wide, innocent eyes.

And the word that left his lips sent a chill down my spine.

“Daddy.”