Chapter 24
The evening breeze was gentle. The sky over the small town was stained a deep, burning orange by the setting sun.
Kinsley pushed her mother’s wheelchair slowly toward home. The pavement was uneven, making the task a bit of a struggle.
“Don’t be so overly cautious,” her mother said with a smile. “I’m not made of glass.”
“Mom, your leg is finally healing. I can’t have you hitting something and ending up back in the hospital because I was being careless.”
She smiled, her expression tender, but the smile stiffened the next second.
“Kinsley, you still haven’t told me why you suddenly ran home.”
Kinsley leaned over and nuzzled her mother’s neck, feigning a spoiled pout. “You just got out of the hospital; I came back to help you out for a few days. If you don’t want me here, I’ll leave right now.”
Her mother looked at her with doting eyes. “Of course I don’t want you to leave. I’m just afraid of delaying your work; you’ve always been so busy.”
“No matter how busy I am, I have to take care of my mother. Look at your leg—if you try to send me away, I’ll have to pack you into the car and take you with me. Otherwise, I won’t be able to stop worrying.”
Mother and daughter laughed together as they reached the front door.
----
A tall figure stood silently by the gate. Backlit by the dying sun, his shadow stretched long and thin across the path.
Kinsley’s steps came to an abrupt halt. Her heart felt as if it had been gripped by a cold hand.
Aaron. He stood there, his suit jacket draped over his arm, his shirt wrinkled as if he had traveled a long, weary road. His eyes were locked onto her. Her mother glanced from him to her daughter with a confused frown.
“Who is—?”
Kinsley’s throat tightened. “I don’t know him.” Her voice was barely a whisper, though she knew he could hear her.
Aaron’s gaze dimmed slightly. He gave a polite, shallow bow to Kinsley’s mother. Kinsley fumbled with the key, pushing the wheelchair inside, her hands trembling uncontrollably. Just as she stepped over the threshold, he reached out to stop her.
“Kinsley, let’s talk.”
Her mother looked at their tense, haunted faces and understood immediately. “I’ll head inside,” she said, patting her daughter’s hand. “Talk it out. There’s no misunderstanding that can’t be unraveled.”
The door closed, leaving them alone in the yard. The evening wind sighed, rustling the leaves. Kinsley kept her head down, her eyes burning.
“Why are you here?”
“To take you home.”
“That’s not my home.” The words spilled out before she could even think.
Aaron’s heart gave a violent lurch. “It is.”
She looked up, her eyes rimmed with red. “The contract is over. I breached it. But don’t worry—I’ll work and pay you back every cent.”
He took a step closer. “Don’t think like that. There is no contract between us anymore. I will never use any reason to hold you back again.”
He pulled out the contract they had signed—both copies—and laid them before her. Then, he tore them in half, and half again.
Kinsley blinked rapidly, fighting back tears, refusing to meet his gaze. “Why are you suddenly acting so kind?”
“Because… the contract was a mistake from the very start.”
He took out the pregnancy test. Kinsley’s eyes felt scorched; she squeezed them shut.
He knows. Her chest heaved with shallow, jagged breaths. After a long moment, she opened her eyes and snatched the test from him, her voice rapid and unnervingly calm.
“You don’t have to be afraid. I won’t blackmail you. This child is an accident—the one thing you would never allow. But I will raise him on my own. He will never appear before you.”
Aaron stepped forward, gripping her arms. “What are you saying! When did I ever say I didn’t want this child?” His voice was raw, etched with pain and desperation. “When I said I didn’t allow for ‘accidents’ that day, it was because I’m a man who craves control.
I was terrified of failing to protect you, of you getting hurt through my negligence.”
He caught his breath, his chest trembling. “If you had only told me about the baby then… I can’t even imagine how happy I would have been.”
Kinsley watched him silently. Knowing him as she did, she knew he was being sincere. But… she looked up, blinking back tears as a stiff, hollow smile touched her lips.
“So, are you planning to fight me for custody? Even if he is your child, I won’t give him to you.”
Aaron felt as if he’d been struck by a blade; his brows drew together, his eyes brimming with agony. “I’m not here to take the child. I’m here to take both of you back. Can we try to live as a family? Please?”
Two lines of tears rolled down Kinsley’s cheeks.
She wiped them away quickly, laughing as if it were nothing.
“I won’t agree. I’m not your tool anymore. And the child certainly isn’t either. I’ve already returned the money you gave me. If I still owe you anything, it’s just the penalty fee. I won’t shirk that debt.”
“Stop talking about the penalty fee!” Aaron closed his eyes in torment.
“I hate that contract. It made it impossible for me to stand beside you as an equal.”
He reached out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
“Kinsley, you are pure and beautiful. With you, I found a peace I never knew I lacked. Before I even realized it… I had fallen in love with you.”
Kinsley took two steps back. “Fall in love with me? And how did you treat me? You could be cold the moment we finished in bed, forcing pills on me. You even transferred money to me, making me feel like…”
She couldn’t finish; she choked on her sob and paused. “And one more thing. I need to explain—I took the medicine the housekeeper gave me. But I had to film a scene that day, and I threw up three times.”
The pain in Aaron’s eyes deepened. “I’m so sorry. That was never my intention, but I realize now that every move I made felt exactly like that. After that night, I had the medicine sent because I was terrified of losing control, terrified of causing you trouble. The money…
I thought I was helping you, but I only made you feel like a transaction. I never meant for my actions to make you feel weighed, labeled, and priced. That was the most selfish, wretched thing I have ever done. I… I broke you.”
He reached out and gently took her hand, his gaze shattered. “Can you ever forgive me, Kinsley?”
Kinsley’s eyes brimmed with tears, her lips pressed into a stubborn line. “If you wanted the child, you could have just said so. You didn’t need to go through all this trouble to tell me you love me.”
“Kinsley, you have a deep misunderstanding of me. I know why… I understand.” Aaron’s own eyes were glassy now.
Kinsley gritted her teeth, a low, pained sound escaping her. “It’s not a misunderstanding. It’s that the hurt you caused me… it still aches.”
Tears finally spilled from Aaron’s eyes.
He stepped forward and pulled her into his arms, raining soft, desperate kisses onto her hair.
“I’m not here to force you, and I’m not here to fight over the child. I just… want to be with you, to take care of you both. From now on, whether you’re happy or sad, I will be right there with you.”
Kinsley couldn’t hold back the crumbling of her own defenses any longer; her tears broke through like a dam.
“Kinsley, give me a chance, will you? I will learn how to love you, how to make you feel safe and secure. I want to be the one you can lean on.”
Kinsley’s eyes shimmered, though a spark of her old defiance remained. “I… I’m not sure I can trust you again. I’m so afraid… of being hurt again.”
A small, hopeful smile touched Aaron’s face. “That’s all right. I can wait. I will learn how to court you, how to love you properly. Until you decide, in your own time, whether you want to come back to me or walk your own path.”
Kinsley bit her lip, silent.
Aaron’s voice softened, dropping into a soothing cadence. “There’s no pressure. I have all the patience in the world.”
“What if I decide not to come back?”
“I will respect your choice.” He paused, his gaze softening further. “But I will still keep hoping that you come home.”
Kinsley began to laugh, a soft, genuine sound. The sunset turned the horizon of the small town into a sea of fire; for a moment, everything was still, everything was beautiful.
They looked into each other’s eyes, waiting for the story to begin all over again.
（The End）