Chapter 361: a life never lived
KAEL
My head was heavy by the time we climbed the stairs, every step dragging the weight of the day behind me. Everything still clung to the back of my skull, the stench of boardroom politics sour on my tongue. The mask I wore all day felt like it had been stapled to my face, and even here... following Aria into this modest building that didn’t belong to my world, I couldn’t peel it off.
Her apartment door opened to noise. Warm noise.
A muffled voice echoed from somewhere inside. "Kaleb Matthias Thorne, you better stop running around and put your toys away before I—"
The voice cut off, only to bark again, closer this time. I almost smirked. Olivia, I guessed.
Aria stepped in first, her tone calm as always, announcing with deliberate softness, "I’m back. And I brought a guest."
The scene inside looked like something from a life I’d never lived: Olivia mid-stride, hair tied back, chasing after a boy who barely looked eight. He darted past her with a grin wide enough to split his face, clutching a plastic toy in his hand like it was treasure.
Then Olivia saw me.
She froze. Her entire body went rigid, mouth parting like she was staring at something unreal. Then she hurried forward, her tone flipping from stern-mother to reverent disciple in an instant.
"Oh my goodness! Mr. Roman." Her voice pitched higher with excitement. "My God—you’re here. Uhm. It’s a pleasure to meet you again. Uhh... Thank you, thank you for taking care of my stubborn sister." She half-bowed, half-wrangled her composure, like she wasn’t sure if she should kneel or shake my hand.
Aria rolled her eyes, unimpressed. "Olivia."
The tension broke instantly when the boy... Kaleb... leapt at her, small arms wrapping around her waist in a tackle that nearly knocked the grocery bag from her hand. She laughed, catching him against her hip, murmuring something soft I couldn’t hear.
His head turned then, those bright, curious eyes locking on me.
I didn’t know what I expected. Fear, maybe, or awe. I was used to people reacting with both. Instead, Kaleb just stared. Boldly. Like he was trying to decide if I was real or a story someone had made up.
"Hey," I offered, my voice lower than I meant, roughened by exhaustion. "You’re Aria’s baby nephew... Kaleb, right?"
He blinked. No answer. Just more staring.
"Kaleb," Olivia’s voice snapped, sharp. "That’s rude."
The boy only shrugged, burying his face back into Aria’s shoulder like she was his shield.
Aria’s mouth twitched, but before she could say anything, her nose lifted slightly. "Something’s burning."
Olivia’s eyes went wide. "Shit—the chicken!" She bolted toward the kitchen, yelling over her shoulder, "Aria, did you get the soy sauce?"
Aria adjusted Kaleb on her hip, her tone flat with sarcasm. "Yes, I got your special soy sauce."
Chaos. Warm, unrestrained chaos. It filled the walls, the air, the cracks in me I thought couldn’t be filled.
I sank against the doorframe for a second, letting it wash over me. My gaze snagged on Aria, her arms snug around Kaleb, his head tucked against her shoulder, her mouth curving with that small, private smile she thought no one noticed.
And for one dangerous second, I slipped into that image again. Something that I could maybe have someday with Aria.
I pictured her like that with our own child. Small arms clinging to her neck. Her body carrying pieces of me I’d thought could never exist outside of violence and shadow.
The image cut too deep.
"Aria," Kaleb’s voice suddenly piped up, muffled against her shirt. "He won’t stop staring at you."
Heat crawled up my neck before I could stop it. My jaw clenched, and I looked away, caught between irritation and something dangerously close to embarrassment.
Aria finally dropped Kaleb back onto his feet, smoothing his hair as she gave him a look only sisters could perfect.
"Be a good boy, pack up your toys, and watch your sister. Okay?"
Kaleb muttered something about not wanting to, but her raised brow had him retreating toward the living room with exaggerated stomps. She didn’t even wait to see if he listened before sliding her hand into mine and tugging me down the hall.
"Come on," she said, low. And I went. Always.
She pushed open a door that smelled like her.
Her room.
I stepped in and stopped, my chest catching on the sight of it.
It wasn’t the sterile order I was used to... nothing like the suites or penthouses I lived in. This room was alive. Girly in streaks: soft pastel curtains, fairy lights strung half-heartedly along one wall, an old poster of a band curling at the edges, a perfume bottle tipped sideways on the dresser. Opposite in others: sneakers stacked under the bed, a basketball propped against the closet door, books piled in unsteady towers that looked like they might collapse at a sneeze.
Scattered, yes—but neat where it mattered. Makeup brushes tucked in an old mug. A candle burned halfway down, wax hardened on the rim. A shelf of worn notebooks, one cracked open with a pen stuck in the spine. A beautiful mess. Like her.
It made something in me twist violently, painfully. The more I looked, the deeper I fell, like I was discovering pieces of her I hadn’t earned.
Aria, oblivious to the war in my chest, flitted about, gathering stray clothes, half-folding things, muttering under her breath. "Sorry—it’s not usually this messy. Sit. On the bed."
I obeyed, sinking into the edge of her mattress. The sheets smelled faintly of her shampoo. My hand brushed against something soft, thin.
I glanced down. A scrap of black lace.
Panties.
For one suspended moment, I stared. Then I picked them up and, without breaking stride, slipped them into my pocket. My pulse stayed steady.
Her head snapped up. "Kael—what are you doing?"
I leaned back casually, expression unreadable. "Nothing."
Her eyes narrowed. She didn’t believe me, not for a second. But she only sighed, long-suffering, and shook her head.
She came closer, brushing her palms against her thighs like she didn’t know what to do with them. "Do you... feel better?" she asked softly.
I looked at her... really looked. At the girl who’d grown in this room, who’d lived all the lives these walls had witnessed. At my girlfriend. My Aria.
"I’m in the room my girlfriend grew up in," I said, my voice quieter than I meant. "Of course I’m okay."
Her cheeks flushed instantly, color blooming, but she ducked her head as if I wouldn’t notice. She forgot who she was dealing with.
I caught her wrist before she could retreat, tugging her into the space between my knees. Then, without giving her the chance to resist, I pulled her onto my lap.
The mess of her room spun around us, every part of it a reflection of her. And I thought, not for the first time: this chaos was the only place I wanted to live.