Chapter 8 Unexpected Revelations

• Aria’s POV
• The house was unnervingly quiet as I walked through. The silence pressed against my ears, making the faint sounds from the bedroom more pronounced.
• Curious, I followed the noise, my footsteps soft on the familiar floor.
• As I reached the doorway, the sound of running water ceased abruptly, and the door to the en-suite bathroom swung open. I froze, my breath catching in my throat.
• Liam emerged, a towel slung low around his hips, water droplets clinging to his skin as they glistened in the dim light. His hair was damp, and he ran a hand through it, pushing it back from his forehead.
• He seemed completely at ease, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be standing half-naked in front of me.
• For a moment, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Liam’s body had always been toned, but years of training and discipline had sculpted him even further.
• He caught me staring, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
• "Are you going to stand there and watch me get dressed?" he asked, his tone more amused than anything else.
• I quickly averted my gaze, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. I placed the report I had brought on the nearby dresser, my movements hurried and awkward.
• Without another word, I turned to leave the room, eager to escape the situation. But as I reached the door, something caught my eye—a stack of papers on the bedside table.
• I froze again, my gaze zeroing in on the top document. It was familiar, too familiar. The divorce papers.
• The same ones I had left behind years ago, unsigned. They were still there, untouched, as if waiting for my return.
• Why hadn’t he signed them?
• Before I could dwell on the question, Liam strolled over and picked up the papers. He glanced at them, a casual expression on his face.
• "I’m not that stingy," he said, his voice even. "After three years of marriage, I wasn’t going to let you leave with nothing."
• My heart skipped a beat. Did that mean he hadn’t wanted to divorce me?
• The thought flashed through my mind, startling me. But Liam’s demeanor remained unchanged, giving no indication of what he might be thinking.
• Liam then handed me back the divorce papers, his tone shifting to something more businesslike. "Let’s go over your report," he said, his voice firm. "I want every detail."
• I blinked, caught off guard by the abrupt change in topic.
• I nodded, pulling myself together as I retrieved the report from where I had set it down. Liam’s eyes were sharp as he scrutinized every line, every note I had made. He nitpicked my work, questioning every detail, every decision I had outlined.
• Hours passed in what felt like an endless barrage of criticism and questioning. The sun had long since set, and the clock on the wall ticked steadily toward midnight.
• My patience wore thin, but I kept my responses measured, refusing to let Liam’s relentless questioning break my composure.
• Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Liam leaned back in his chair and gave a dismissive nod. "You can go," he said, his tone clipped.
• But as I gathered my things, he added with a sneer, "Wouldn’t want to make you late for your date, would I?"
• I stared at him, momentarily speechless. His words were laced with sarcasm, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he had deliberately kept me late just to ruin my plans. But that was absurd, wasn’t it?
• Liam’s expression hardened, his eyes narrowing. "Don’t flatter yourself," he snapped. "I’m just worried you’ll be a bad influence on Jackson."
• The absurdity of the situation hit me then, and I bit back a retort. Of course, Liam wouldn’t go to such lengths just to interfere with my personal life. It was ridiculous to even consider it.
• I shook my head slightly, mocking myself for the fleeting thought. Without another word, I turned and left the room, the weight of the day’s events pressing down on me.
• —
• The following week, the kindergarten was buzzing with excitement as the annual parent-child event approached. Every child had to submit a handmade project, and the air was filled with anticipation.
• I watched with a smile as Joe proudly displayed the model race car he had crafted, his small hands pointing out every detail with enthusiasm.
• "Look, Mom!" Joe said, his eyes shining with pride. "I made it all by myself!"
• I admired the model, impressed by his effort. The car was sleek and well-constructed, its lines reminiscent of the ones I had seen in Liam’s garage.
• For a brief moment, the resemblance between Joe’s excitement and Liam’s passion for racing flashed in my mind, but I quickly pushed the thought aside.
• Our moment of pride was interrupted when William, Liam’s assistant’s son, strutted over with a smug expression. He eyed Joe’s model with disdain before sneering, "You’re going to lose for sure. My dad’s here, and he helped me with mine."
• Joe looked up at William, unimpressed. "So what?" he retorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Your dad’s just some guy. My car’s better."
• Before William could reply, a familiar voice called out, "William." Both boys turned, and my heart skipped a beat as I saw Liam approaching, his gaze focused on William.
• Joe’s face fell as he watched William run to Liam’s side, his small hand slipping into Liam’s much larger one.
• The sight of them together sent a shock through my system. Liam was William’s dad?
• Joe’s expression turned to one of betrayal. He tugged on my sleeve, his voice a mix of confusion and hurt. "Mom, he said he would be my dad. How can he be William’s dad too?"
• My thoughts were racing, my mind struggling to process the revelation. It was too late to hide Joe now; he and William were nearly the same age, and the resemblance between Joe and Liam was undeniable.
• Liam was bound to put the pieces together.
• Liam approached us, his expression darkening with each step. When he reached us, his voice was sharp, filled with barely-contained anger.
• "Aria," he demanded, his eyes boring into mine, "who is his father?"
• I forced myself to meet his gaze, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me. "He doesn’t have a father," I said, each word measured.
• Liam’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. "You—!"
• Before Liam could finish, Joe tugged on my hand again, his eyes wide with a mischievous glint.
• "But I do have a dad," Joe said, his voice filled with childlike certainty. He looked up at Liam, his expression brightening as if he had just solved a great mystery. "And he’s right here, isn’t he?"
• The words hung in the air, thick with implication. My heart sank, a wave of dread washing over me as I looked down at Joe. He smiled up at Liam, oblivious to the tension between the adults.
• "Joe…" I whispered, my voice barely audible.
• Liam’s eyes flicked from Joe to me, his expression a mixture of shock and something unreadable. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the world narrowing to the three of us standing in the middle of the bustling kindergarten event.