WHATEVER YOU WANT
803 Words
ARIA'S POV
I didn't respond just meeting his gaze.
“Fine. But you owe me. Something important. No backing out or pretending like you don't remember this time.”
Memories of broken promises from college came through my mind.
I nod, swallowing hard. “Whatever you want.”
He gets up from the bed and straightens his shirt with maddening ease, and grace.
His tie is loosened, his blue shirt slightly creased, and it only makes him look more put together somehow, more dangerous.
“You said it yourself, Aria. Don't forget that.”
I almost take it back. What am I getting myself into?
But before I can speak, he continues.
“Good. Dress up. We’ll leave soon.” We? His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he heads for the door.
The moment he’s gone, I let out a long breath.
I head straight for a cold shower, letting the water cool the fire still burning under my skin. Then I change into a simple, modest gown and pack a few things Remy might need.
I search briefly for Mira to thank her, but she’s nowhere in sight. Noah waits downstairs.
I match his long stride to the car. “I need to go to a mall first, I want to buy things for Remy.”
He doesn’t respond but tell Matteo to drive to one.
I bite my lip, stealing glances at him during the drive. He looks perfect—black hair slightly tousled, blue shirt unbuttoned at the collar, tie loose from earlier.
What is he sulking for? I'm the one offended? I'm the one taken advantage of?
We stop at a mall. I pick out new plastic toys and games for Remy, careful about hospital rules on infections. Noah watches with a scowl.
“These are cheap,” he mutters coldly. “I have better collections at home from when I was a kid.”
“They’re new, like the doctor recommended,” I reply evenly. “He already has plenty from Uncle Mike and the others.”
Noah says something under his breath about “nothing from the father,” but I don’t catch it fully.
He pays for everything before I can argue, instructing Matteo to handle it.
In the car again, the silence stretches. Finally he speaks, tone gruff. “Did your phone stopped working or something?”
I blink. “What?”
“You didn’t call. Didn’t message. Not once.”
The realization hits me.
That’s why he’s been like this. The arrogant, spoiled man was waiting for me to reach out.
I look down, fighting a small smile. “I’m sorry. Things were hectic with Remy’s admission.”
He grunts, but some of the tension eases. “You’re coming with me to a social event tomorrow. Matteo will pick you up. I’ll be busy at the office, but you’ll be there with me.”
I wanted to tell him no, argue about it but I don't want to risk angering him again. Noah has always been petty. Whenever he is in a bad mood, he would not stop until everyone around him is miserable. I can't remember how many times I have been a victim.
To let peace reign, I nodded.
When we get to the hospital, Noah walks me to the entrance but doesn’t come inside. I say my goodbye to him which he replies grudgingly to.
☆~☆
I find Remy sitting up in bed, eyes lighting up the moment he sees me.
“Mommy!” His voice sounds tired but excited. “You were gone so long. Are you okay? Did you bring toys?”
I hug him gently, smiling. “Yes, I am fine, baby. And I brought new toys so we can play safely here. No old ones allowed, remember what the doctor said?”
He nods seriously, already reaching for the bag. “Can we play the blue car one first? I promise I’ll rest after.”
We play quietly for a while.
He’s thrilled with the new set, chattering about colors and stories he makes up on the spot.
An hour or so later, Matteo appears outside the room. He stays in the hallway, protocol about cleanliness and hands me a food pack.
“Miss Mira sad you hadn’t eaten. Mr. King asked me to bring this.”
I thank him and take it, warmth spreading through me.
As I watch my son drift toward sleep again, I can't stop thinking how today has gone.
I wasn't even able to blast him for moving my luggage as I'd planned.
And the way he looked at me earlier, like he was already imagining all the ways he’d collect on my promise.
I have a feeling I’m walking into something I won’t be able to walk away.
- Writer
