Kairo pushed the bathroom door open, Zayn bouncing like an overexcited puppy.
"Dadaaa, hurry!" the little one squealed, as Kairo was undressing him.
"I am hurrying, my son. Wait a second," Kairo laughed, taking off his tiny pants gently.
Zayn immediately ran towards the shower, twisting the tap with all his strength.
Water splashed everywhere, like rain on the tile floor, on Kairo's pants, on Zayn's hair.
"Zayn!" Kairo bark-laughed, "Baby, not full pressure—"
But Zayn had already dunked both hands into the rising water, splashing like a tiny fountain machine. He was already jumping excitedly under the shower.
Kairo sighed, shaking his head with a helpless smile. "Okay, fine… let's just destroy the bathroom together."
He knelt beside the tub and scooped water in his hand, flicking it at Zayn.
Zayn gasped dramatically and splashed back.
Within seconds, it turned into a full war, father versus son, one half naked and another fully naked, laughing, water everywhere, dancing under a running shower.
Zayn climbed into the tub, still half-full, slipping and giggling. "Dada, come inside! Come! Come!"
Kairo didn't even hesitate. He climbed in with him, pants getting completely soaked.
"Dadaaa your pants!" Zayn shouted.
"It's okay, I'll blame you later," he teased, ruffling his wet hair.
Zayn poured a small mug of water over Kairo's head. Kairo closed his eyes, water dripping down his face as he inhaled deeply.
"I'm… going to tickle you," he warned, voice low and playful.
"Noooo!" Zayn screamed, but Kairo already grabbed him, squeezing his belly, both laughing so loudly it echoed through the whole house.
That's exactly when Sara opened the bathroom door.
And froze.
Her eyes scanned, water everywhere, soaked father in the tub, tiny chaotic son splashing him, and a bathroom that looked like it survived a tsunami.
She blinked slowly.
"Kairo."
Kairo stopped tickling Zayn and looked at her like a guilty teenager caught at a sleepover.
"Yes?" he said innocently.
"What the fuck are you two doing? What is this?" she growled, annoyed.
Kairo raised a finger. "Bonding."
Zayn copied him. "Bonding."
"Shut up!!!"
Instant silence.
Now both boys are quiet. Kairo sank into the warm water again, foam covering his chest.
Zayn stood inside the tub, tiny naked body covered in soap bubbles, looking like a baby marshmallow. Sara is washing Kairo's hair, sitting behind him on a stool.
Her gentle fingers massaged his scalp, rubbing the shampoo into a thick lather. Kairo closed his eyes for a moment, trying hard not to grin like an idiot.. Because if he did, she would see how much he was enjoying it.
Meanwhile, Zayn scooped up a handful of foam and slapped it onto his father's face.
Kairo burst into a smile. "Oh, really?". Then he took Zayn's tiny head and started scrubbing it with foam, creating a bubble crown and beard.
Zayn giggled, "I'm a king!"
Kairo added more foam. "King Bubble. Ruler of the bathtub."
Sara finally giggled, shaking her head, completely defeated by the chaos she pretended not to encourage.
A few minutes later, she rinsed Kairo's hair, and she turned to Zayn,
"Come here, my bubble king. It's your turn."
Zayn lifted his little arms toward her without hesitation, and she scooped him out of the tub, bubbles sliding off his small body.
As she washed him with the quick, practiced efficiency of a mom who had handled this chaos alone for years.
Kairo watched her quietly, in full "mom mode," calm, efficient, loving…
Her focused face… the gentle way she applied soap on his tiny face carefully… the gentle hum she made to calm him… while rinsing his hair. Something in his chest warmed painfully.
How many moments like this did I miss? How long has she been doing this alone? All those mornings, all those baths, all those little moments she had handled alone.
It hit him hard. The pain of not being with them from the start crashed down again.
Once she was done, she gently wrapped Zayn in a soft towel. Zayn wrapped his arms around her neck as she lifted him.
She kissed his cheek. "Good boy. Let's get you dressed."
Kairo stared at them like he forgot to breathe.
She walked toward the door, carrying Zayn securely in her arms.
Just then—
"What about me?" Kairo said.
Sara stopped and turned slowly. "What about you?"
Kairo blinked innocently. "Aren't you going to help me wash up?"
She stared at him like he had grown another head.
"I just washed your hair. Now wash yourself."
"But that's not fair," Kairo complained. "You helped him, but not me."
"Kairo…" she warned through gritted teeth, "have some shame. He is a child. You are not."
Kairo sank deeper into the foam, only his teasing eyes showing. "I can be one."
Sara's jaw dropped.
Her nostrils flared, the ultimate "I will kill you" sign, but she controlled herself because Zayn was in her arms.
She gave him a silent, deadly glare, the one that says Wait till I get free, and turned away.
Kairo burst into soft laughter the moment she left.
Sunday Afternoon
Late afternoon, the house had fallen into a cozy silence. Zayn, after all the running, wrestling, and chaos he created with Kairo, finally dozed off on his father's shoulder right after lunch. His little face pressed against Kairo's neck, tiny fingers curled into his shirt, worn out from the day's adventures.
Kairo gently carried him to the bedroom and laid him on the bed, pulling the blanket up to his chest before slipping out quietly.
Sara was on the couch again, scrolling through her phone, when Kairo quietly came out of the bedroom after laying Zayn down. He walked toward her slowly, too slowly, and she instantly sensed trouble.
He hovered over her, shadow falling on her face. She looked up at him over the rim of her glasses.
Without a word, he plucked her glasses off and placed them on the side table.
She raised an eyebrow. He smirked. Leaned down and stole a soft peck from her lips.
"What is up with you now?" she asked, suspicious.
"It's Sunday afternoon. Zayn is sleeping. Now it's our time," he declared, like a man with a mission.
"I'm not in the mood. I'm working," she said, trying to scroll again.
He pouted, full, dramatic, tragic. "You're being mean to me. Since morning. You even refused to help me wash up."
She gave him a glare, like, Is he serious right now?
"I washed your hair," she reminded him.
"Just hair!" he gasped dramatically. "And why are you working on Sunday?"
"Kairo," she sighed, "it's regarding the new plan we're working on. I'm just checking a few things."
He took her phone and placed it away. "Whatever. As your boss, I'm telling you, you were given Sunday off to spend time with your family. If you dare to work on Sundays… I'll fire you."His tone suddenly turned into the strict director mode.
She stared at him, biting back a laugh. "God bless everyone with a boss like you."
He immediately broke character and cracked up.
"Now get off me. You're heavy, and you're crushing my stomach," she complained, pushing him gently.
He lifted his weight just enough, rolling to her side but still refusing to let her go. His arm wrapped around her instantly, pulling her close again as he nestled his face into her neck.
She giggled softly. "You really have to cling to me all the time?"
"Yes." Not even a hint of hesitation.
She kissed his hair, holding him as his hands wandered under her top, fingers gently squeezing her soft skin, craving warmth.
He exhaled deeply, sinking into her warmth. After a moment, he spoke quietly, kind of shyly.
"Earlier… when you were washing Zayn," he said, voice soft against her neck, "You looked different."
She smiled softly. "How?"
"Full mom mode," he murmured. "So soft, so gentle… so beautiful. It felt like I was looking at a goddess, pure, warm, glowing."
His palm moved slowly over her soft belly, fingers tracing without thinking.
"Women are… incredible," he continued, voice low, almost reverent. "God really created the most beautiful yet powerful species. They look soft…, fragile..., delicate, but their core strength?" He clicked his tongue softly. "It's insane. You all make the world feel safe. You share love so freely… It's scary to imagine a world without women."
He pressed a kiss into the crook of her neck, lingering there.
"Men are lucky," he murmured. "To have even one woman in their life, as daughter, mother, sister, wife, lover, even friend."
Sara smiled, running her fingers through his hair.
"What happened to my man today? Is he drunk? Is he okay?"
He chuckled against her skin. "Absolutely okay. Just being honest, baby. You guys are magic."
She teased, "Says the guy who didn't spare a single girl in college."
He stilled for a moment, a shadow crossing his face as old memories flickered.
"I was an asshole back then," he admitted quietly. "I regret a lot of the things I did. I treated women like… like they were only a source of pleasure. I was an idiot."
Sara took a slow breath, her hand still resting on his head.
After a few seconds, she asked gently but directly, "Have you ever forced yourself on any woman? Or cheated on someone? Don't count me."
He stayed quiet for a long second. Too long. She could literally feel his heartbeat thudding against her ribs, uneven, nervous… almost afraid. When he finally spoke, his voice wasn't Kairo's usual low confidence; it was small, shaking, like he was peeling open a part of himself he never let anyone touch.
"I don't know…" he exhaled, eyes fixed somewhere near her collarbone because looking directly at her felt too raw. "I don't know if I ever hurt any woman…. I—" his throat bobbed, "—whoever I had, I had them with consent. I know that."
He swallowed again, harder this time, like something sharp was stuck in his chest.
"Yet it feels sick that I allowed myself on… many." His voice broke into a whisper. "It feels disgusting that I let myself drown in so many people, so many moments… just because I didn't know what else to do with myself."
Each word came like shame pouring out of him, one drop at a time, heavy and trembling.
She didn't rush in with words. She simply held him tighter, palm sliding behind his head, fingers combing through his damp hair. The moment he felt her hold, he sagged into her, forehead pressing into the crook of her neck like he was hiding from his own memories.
"Kairo," she whispered, smoothing his hair as his breath hitched against her skin, "shh… don't do this to yourself."
His grip around her waist tightened, seeking anchor, reassurance, safety.
"Humans make mistakes," she murmured, her thumb brushing the back of his neck. "We all do things we don't understand… things we regret later. You're no different, my love."
He let out a shaky exhale, as if her words were the first ones that didn't judge him.
"Back then," she continued gently, "you had no one to guide you. No one to tell you right or wrong. You were alone and hurting… and you let yourself go through whatever gave you a moment of escape. You made choices you regret, but regret means growth."
Kairo closed his eyes, inhaling sharply, like he was hearing forgiveness he didn't know he was allowed to ask for.
"Don't let yourself down for the boy you were," she whispered, pressing a slow, soft kiss to his hair. "Don't punish the man you are now… for a past you've already outgrown."
Her fingers caressed the side of his face, warm, steady.
"If you've realised it was wrong…" She cupped his cheek, making him look up at her. "Then let it stay in the past. Let it end there. Don't carry it into your present… because your present is us. And I don't want you hurting yourself over shadows that don't exist anymore."
Kairo's eyes shimmered, not crying, but something raw and quiet, a kind of relief he wasn't ready to admit.
He tucked himself back into her embrace slowly, like easing into warmth after years of cold.
"You are too good for me," he murmured, voice muffled against her skin. "Sometimes I feel like I don't deserve you."
She smiled into his hair. "Should I leave you then?"
"Nooo…" he whined softly, clutching her like she might slip away any second.
"Then stop regretting your past," she murmured. "You can't undo that. Just learn from it… and move forward."
He hummed, hiding his face deeper into her neck.
She chuckled, the vibration making him cling even more. "You came to me saying 'our time'… and you ended up crying about your past," she teased lightly.
He laughed softly. "There are a lot of things I want to share," he murmured, voice raw. "Things I buried so deep… and now, as I'm moving ahead with you, in life, all of it… It's coming up. Slowly. Like something inside me is being cleansed out. Healed. Like you're healing things in me I didn't even know were broken."
She hugged him tighter.
He smiled. "That's why I said… women are wonderful."
She kissed the top of his head. "Thank you for appreciating the women in your life."
He stilled for a moment. Not every woman in his past brought warmth; some left wounds he still didn't understand. And he wasn't ready to talk about that yet.
Maybe some other day. But not today.
For now, he stayed tangled in her arms, her warmth grounding him, their breaths mixing softly as the quiet Sunday afternoon wrapped around them like a blanket.