Semua Bab Babysitting the Billionaire's son: Bab 61 - Bab 70

I gasped harshly as I opened my eyes. Air rushed into me like I’d been underwater for too long. Mabigat ang paghinga ko at agad na bumangon mula kama. My whole body shook with the memory of impact even before my mind had caught up. Aaron went to me, worried. Mabilis ang paghinga ko at agad na yumakap sa kaniya. “That was… terrifying.” I groaned and took a deep breath. The word barely covers the cold that slid down my spine. “Breathe, baby. Inhale slowly and exhale. I’m here, I’m here,” he said, making me calm. His voice is steady and that steadiness is steadier than anything I feel inside. Mariin akong pumikit at inalala ang mga nangyari. Images came in sharp fragments — glass, light, then nothing. I took my time breathing. Aaron was with me until I calmed down and relaxed. I counted breaths with him like a lifeline. I looked at him and leaned on his body, letting my body rest on him. For a moment the world contracted to the two of us and the rhythm of his heartbeat under my cheek

“I won’t let you do that to her!” A man’s voice thundered somewhere near me, sharp and full of restrained anger.I forced my eyes open. Pain flared everywhere at once—my ribs, my head, my arms—like knives pressing from the inside out. Every breath scraped through my chest. Slowly, bits of memory returned. The crash. The smoke. The woman in heels.Was it really an accident? Or had it all been planned?“Then get her!” a woman screamed back, her voice jagged with hatred. “Get her out of this d*mn place! Far from my man! Far from my Aaron!”I blinked hard, my vision a muddy blur of shadows. Madilim ang paligid. Everything smelled of gasoline and iron. My skin stuck to the leather seat where blood had dried. My head lolled to one side and I realized—I was still in the car. Somehow, after losing consciousness, I had been moved but never saved.“That’s my actual plan,” the man shot back. His voice vibrated with rage but also something else—control, like he was holding himself back. “And you

“Vince, natanggap ako sa trabaho. Isn’t that a good thing?” I said, my voice filled with excitement as I smiled at him, my heart fluttering at the thought that finally, I would be working. It felt like an achievement, something of my own, something I could finally claim as mine. But Vince only gave me a tipid na ngiti, the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. I knew why. I had seen this coming. Vince never really wanted me to work, and I had spent countless hours convincing him to let me apply for the position at the restaurant. I didn’t want to stay trapped here in the house, living every day with nothing to do but watch him carry the entire burden of providing for us. I wanted to contribute, even in a small way. He sighed, running a hand down his face, his brows furrowed with worry. “Lor, are you sure about this? Ayaw kong mapagod ka at baka kung ano ang mangyari sa iyo.” His tone was firm but laced with fear. I pressed my lips together, nodding slowly. I understood h

Aaron was with me. My husband. My partner. Even when my memories of him had been stolen, he had remained—steadfast, quiet, and unshakable. He had been my anchor even when I didn’t know I was drifting. He was always there—silently watching over me, caring for me in ways I didn’t even realize, guiding me from the shadows when I was lost.Sometimes his presence felt so close, like a whisper at the edge of my senses. Other times it was as though he stood at the far end of a dark hallway, out of reach. But even then, something deep inside me had known. The strange feelings I couldn’t name back then—the invisible pull that drew me to him, the way my chest tightened when his eyes found mine—were proof. Even though my mind had forgotten, my soul never had. My heart had always remembered.“Are you okay, baby?” Aaron asked softly, his voice carrying that steady calm that always soothed me. His hand stroked my arm before gently lifting my fingers to his lips, pressing a kiss to them with such re

“I’m sorry that I didn’t have a chance to listen to your explanation,” I said softly, my voice trembling as I felt the weight of everything I had done. The words escaped like a confession long buried, heavy and fragile, as if releasing them could finally loosen the chains I had wrapped around my heart. For the first time in a long while, the tightness in my chest wasn’t from anger—it was from regret. A slow, aching kind of regret that seeped into every breath.He shook his head gently, and before I could look away, his hands found my arms—firm, steady, grounding me in a way that made my heart ache. His touch was familiar, too familiar, like the warmth of a place I once called home. My knees almost gave way from the weight of memory. I lowered my gaze, afraid that meeting his eyes would undo the fragile strength I’d built to stand before him. But he tilted his head, his voice silent but his intention clear—he wanted to see me. Really see me.And when our eyes finally met, it was like t