Chapter 31 – Innocent Questions, Heavy Hearts

The morning sun spilled gold across the garden terrace of the Stones estate. Birds called softly, and the air smelled faintly of fresh grass and roses. Aria stood at the balustrade, swinging her little legs, her braids bouncing as she watched the fountain ripple in the center of the courtyard.

Behind her, May and Damien watched silently, sharing a quiet moment before the day began.

“Aria,” Damien said gently, “remember to stay close if you go explore.”

She turned, eyes bright and determined. “I know, Daddy. But I have a question.”

May smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair from Aria’s forehead. “Questions are good.”

Aria’s gaze wandered toward Daxton, who was already in the garden, inspecting the hedge maze. His posture was perfect, regal, yet there was a softness in the way he looked at her—a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

She hesitated, then took a tiny step forward. “Frear grand pa?”

He turned, eyes landing on her immediately. There was an almost imperceptible pause before the stern lines softened into indulgence. “Yes, Aria?”

She looked up at him boldly. “Why… why don’t you like my mum?”

The question hung in the air, weightier than her small frame could hold.

Daxton’s expression tightened slightly. He looked at Damien first, then at May, then back to Aria. The little girl’s innocent eyes held no judgment, only curiosity. Yet somehow, her words cut deeper than anyone expected.

“Aria,” he began carefully, voice low, controlled, “it’s not that I don’t like your mother.”

She tilted her head, frowning slightly. “Then… why do you always look angry when she’s around?”

Daxton took a deep breath. “Because I… care very much about you. And I have rules about what I believe is best for you and your brother. Sometimes… I misjudge people when I am trying to protect you.”

Aiden appeared at her side, holding her hand. He had overheard enough. “So you don’t hate her?” he asked quietly.

Daxton’s stern façade softened. “I do not hate your mother. In fact…” His voice dropped slightly. “I respect her. But I also see the world differently than she does. And sometimes, my pride and my fears get in the way.”

Aria’s eyes narrowed, and she pressed further. “But Daddy says Mum is amazing. And she loves you and me and Aiden. So why do you act like that?”

Daxton’s chest tightened. The child’s words were simple, yet they pierced the armor he had built around himself for decades.

“She is amazing,” he said finally, softer than Damien had ever heard him. “And she is strong. Too strong, sometimes… for me to fully accept.”

May approached slowly, kneeling to meet Aria’s level. “Aria, sometimes adults have old habits and ideas about people that aren’t fair. But your daddy’s family… even if they worry too much, their hearts are still attached to us because of you.”

Aria looked from May to Damien, then back to Daxton. “So… it’s not because she’s not good. It’s because… she’s strong?”

Daxton’s lips twitched in a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Yes. And strength can be intimidating.”

May nodded, squeezing Aria’s hand. “It can be. But it can also teach people how to be better.”

Daxton looked at May, truly looking this time, and something flickered in his eyes—a mixture of admiration and frustration, pride and fear.

Later that day, the four of them—Damien, May, Aria, and Aiden—decided to spend time together in the estate’s private garden. The children had begged for rides on the small amusement carts that Daxton had installed for family weekends. May and Damien followed, laughter already in the air as Aria and Aiden raced around.

Damien lifted Aria into his arms mid-spin, spinning her gently until she shrieked with delight. May caught Aiden after a particularly fast turn, holding him close as he giggled uncontrollably.

“You’re both getting too fast,” May teased, brushing her hair back from her face.

“We need speed!” Aiden insisted.

“You’re too small to control the cart at this velocity,” Damien said, still laughing.

May leaned against him casually. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”

“I always enjoy watching you,” Damien said softly, voice low and intimate, just for her.

May’s heart fluttered. She pressed closer, feeling the warmth of his chest against her back. “You make it look effortless,” she whispered.

“Not effortless,” he murmured. “Just… worth it.”

Their eyes met, and in that instant, the rest of the garden—the kids, the carts, the sunlit maze—disappeared. For a heartbeat, it was just them. Two people who had found something extraordinary amidst chaos, grief, and power struggles.

After a while, the children insisted on ice cream.

Damien handed cones to each of them. “Careful,” he warned Aria. “No sneaky drips.”

Aria grinned. “I’m a professional!” and promptly smeared chocolate across her nose.

May laughed, wiping it gently. “Professional chocolate eater, you mean.”

Aiden tried to keep his neat, but soon a stray drop fell on his shirt. Damien shook his head, smiling, and bent down to kiss the top of his head.

May leaned against Damien’s arm, feeling the pulse of his warmth, the quiet steadiness of him. She pressed her forehead to his shoulder, grateful for this tiny fortress of normalcy.

Even Daxton, observing from a short distance, couldn’t hide the pride shining in his eyes. His grandchildren were happy, and for that reason alone, he tolerated May’s presence—though his judgmental side still lingered beneath the surface.

As the afternoon light softened into evening, May excused herself to check something on her laptop in a quiet corner of the garden. Damien noticed her intense focus, eyebrows knitting ever so slightly.

“What are you working on?” he asked softly, sitting beside her.

May smiled faintly, closing the laptop just enough to hide her screen. “Just some work for the company,” she replied carefully.

Damien’s gaze lingered, curious and teasing. “You always work quietly, but I know you’re capable of more than what meets the eye.”

May’s lips curved into a small smile. “Some things are meant to remain a secret… for now.”

He reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers, letting silence speak what words could not.

Later, as the sun dipped below the horizon, the small family gathered on a bench overlooking the garden. Aria and Aiden sat between May and Damien, leaning against them in a rare quiet moment.

Aria suddenly turned to Daxton, who had been watching from afar. “Great grandpa?” she asked innocently.

“Yes, little star?” he replied.

“Why do you get so serious sometimes with Mum?”

Daxton paused, considering. “Because I love you. And your brother. And… sometimes I worry that adults can make decisions too fast, without thinking.”

Aiden tilted his head. “Does that mean you don’t like Mum?”

Daxton’s jaw tightened slightly. “I like your mother very much. But I have my own way of seeing the world, and I don’t always agree with hers. That doesn’t change how much I care for you two.”

Aria frowned, thoughtful. “So… you love her too, kind of?”

Daxton exhaled. “Yes. But love doesn’t always mean easy.”

May reached out, gently squeezing Aria’s shoulder. “See? Sometimes grown-ups just have complicated feelings. But the important thing is… we all love each other.”

The children looked at her, absorbing the words as if they were precious jewels.

As night fell and the lanterns in the garden flickered on, Damien pulled May close, whispering in her ear, “I think today was perfect.”

“It was,” she said, resting her head against his chest. “Even with Daxton’s… complicated ways.”

Damien smiled. “He’ll come around. He’s attached to the kids more than anything.”

“And we’re attached to each other,” May replied softly.

He kissed the top of her head. “Always.”

From the shadows, Daxton observed, torn between pride, admiration, and the subtle fear that May Austin—his great grandchildren’s mother, a woman he both respected and questioned—was quietly, irrevocably, changing the Stones family forever.

And for the first time, he wondered if resistance might be futile. was it just is pride hindering him from accepting her?