The airport doors slid open and there she was — a flight attendant, immaculate as always, walking out hand-in-hand with a small boy who made my breath catch. Levi. He looked like he'd stepped out of one of those glossy family ads the Blakes used to shoot for PR — seven years old, dressed head-to-toe in expensive designer clothes, black hair neat and shiny, green eyes bright as polished emeralds. Henry's eyes. Henry's damn eyes. "Levi, baby!" I called, breaking into a jog before I could stop myself. He grinned, then darted behind the flight attendant's legs like a tiny, playful fugitive. "Is this your mother, Levi?" the attendant asked, amused. I crossed my arms, feigning sternness. "Don't cheat your mother, young man. If I get arrested, I can't be with you anymore." Levi's head peeked out, his smile enough to melt any airline's regulations. "She's my mommy, ma'am." The flight attendant laughed, handing over his tiny suitcase before giving him one last hug. I took the bag, but m
Last Updated : 2025-11-25 Read more