MasukKyra pov*** Pieces of broken glass and scattered items scrape across the floor as I sweep them into a dustpan. Zaire’s crouched under the sink, pushing the loose cabinet door back into place. The air is warm and heavy, still humming with everything Savannah left behind. I shake my head, quiet. “Lord... she really fucked up your kitchen.” Zaire gives a low exhale. Doesn’t look at me yet. “Yeah... she did.” He tightens the hinge. “But she needed that release. I could feel it building.” I kneel beside him to pick up the pot she dented when she hurled it at the counter. My hands are still shaky, but I keep my voice steady. “You knew she still liked you?” He sits back on his heels. “I knew she cared. I honestly didn’t know it was that deep... not anymore.” I don’t say anything at first. Just drop the pot into the sink and keep sweeping. The silence isn’t hostile. Just thoughtful. Heavy. He watches me for a second. “You alright?” I shrug, keeping my eyes on the glass. “I
Zaire’s pov***I heard the shower shut off upstairs and exhaled. Maybe we’d get one quiet night. Then the knock hit the front door. Sharp. Impatient. Wrong. I opened it and my stomach dropped. Savannah. Tall, sharp-dressed, looking like she owned the place. Her eyes scanned the foyer, landed on me, then cut straight to the staircase. Kyra stepped out of the bathroom at the same time, wrapped in a towel. The warmth from the shower was still on her skin. I saw her go still the second she saw Savannah. She didn’t know her, but she felt it. The air changed. “Zaire, we need to talk,” Savannah said, stepping inside like she’d been invited. Her voice was all command. I moved immediately, blocking her path. “Savannah, this isn’t the time. You need to leave.” Her eyes narrowed. “Is that the reason? Someone else is here?” I heard Kyra’s breath catch on the stairs. She was frozen, towel clutched to her chest, stuck between running back to the r
Zaire The evening air feels warmer now, like the garden itself knows something’s changed between us. The lanterns catch in Kyra’s eyes, and I swear I’ve never seen them this open. This unguarded. She doesn’t pull away from me. She doesn’t hide. She just sits there, breathing like she’s not afraid of the moment anymore. I brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear. It’s nothing, just a small touch, but her inhale is sharp enough to wreck me. “You’re tired,” I say quietly. “Let’s go inside. You shouldn’t stay out in the late air too long.” She nods, slow, but I see it in her face. She doesn’t want this to end either. I help her up, catching her when she wobbles. Her hand settles on my arm for balance, and I don’t think she realizes how long she leaves it there. I do. I feel every second. We walk toward the house. Close. Arms brushing. Every step pulling that quiet tension between us tighter. Inside, the lighting is low and the house is quiet. Peaceful. Mine, but
Zaire** The driveway lights throw a warm, golden glow across the hood as I shift into park. For a moment, I do not move. I just sit here, watching Kyra sleep beside me. Her breathing is slow, steady. Her hand still rests protectively over her bump. A faint trace of dried tears marks her cheeks, but even that cannot dim the peaceful softness that has settled over her face. I do not want to wake her abruptly. Leaning slightly toward her, I brush my fingers against her arm. "Kyra," I whisper, my voice low, warm. "We're home." She stirs softly, eyelashes fluttering before her eyes open in slow, sleepy blinks. She looks around, momentarily disoriented. "Oh," she murmurs, clearing her throat. "I didn't mean to fall asleep." "It's alright," I say, giving her a small smile. "You needed the rest." She sits up straighter, smoothing her hair with a self conscious touch. Even through her exhaustion, there is a softness in her eyes like waking up to me watching her some
Zaire’s pov The sun shined brighter when we stepped out of the courtyard. Kyra walked ahead a little, one hand on her small bump, the other wrapped around her handbag like she was holding herself together. I unlocked the SUV with a soft beep. "Kyra... are you okay?" I asked gently. She nodded without looking back, but her shoulders betrayed her, tight, drawn up, trembling just a little. I didn't push. I waited until she climbed in, buckled up, and stared out the window like the world outside could answer questions she hadn't said out loud. I started the engine. The AC hummed. The rain pattered. We pulled off onto the main road. For the first few minutes, neither of us spoke. Only the sound of tires on the asphalt, and Kyra's quiet sniffles she tried to hide. I glanced over at her. Her chin trembled. Her lashes glistened. Her fingers curled tightly into her lap. Then her breath broke. Just once. "Kyra," I said, barely above a whisper. Those five lett
Kyra’s pov*** There was a sharp knock at the door. "Ten minutes are up," the court officer said. "Judge wants everyone back inside." The room seemed to shrink. I stared at the floor for a second before pushing myself upright. My legs felt heavy, but they held. Zaire stood beside me immediately. "You good?" he asked quietly. I let out a shaky breath. "I will be." Victor gathered his files and headed for the door. "Let's finish this." The walk back to the courtroom felt longer than before. The moment the doors opened, every conversation seemed to stop. I returned to the witness stand and settled into the chair. The bailiff called for order. Judge Vance looked down from the bench. "Ms. Taylor, you remain under oath." "Yes, Your Honor." The clinic's attorney rose and approached the stand. "Just a few more questions, Ms. Taylor." I nodded. The attorney glanced down at her notes. "When did you first learn that the clinic had used the wrong sperm sa







