"Mom, can we order pizza for dinner?"

Amayah scowled. "Pizza isn't dinner, baby. Pick something else."

Frowning, Aaron turned to me. "Pizza could be dinner, right Aide? We ate it for lunch before."

The older woman also looked at me, eyebrow raised and hands placed on her hips, waiting for my answer. I gulped, eyes alternating between the two of them. My mouth opened to answer, opting to be neutral, but the way Amayah's brow raised even higher made me stop.

'You better agree with me' is the only way I can describe the look I'm receiving from her.

I recoiled. "Pizza isn't a healthy dinner, bud."

A triumph smirk formed on red-painted lips. "Told you, baby."

The boy pouted and frowned. I watched as they stared down at each other before Aaron suddenly smiled as if he thought of something. "How about homemade pizza? That's healthier than store bought."

I knew Amayah was going to try to refuse again, Aaron knew as well, so without hesitation, the boy pouted his lips and gave his mom puppy eyes, followed with a cute 'please'. I couldn't help but smile at the way Amayah softened, smiling in defeat.

"Fine." She playfully rolled her eyes. "But I'm making pasta as well."

"Yes! Thank you, mom! Love you."

"Love you, too, baby." Amayah then pointed at me. "Come help me."

I scrambled up, immediately following the dark haired woman like a puppy. Amayah ordered me to get the ingredients out and while I do so, she started preparing. I turned when I heard groaning, laughter wanting to escape upon seeing Amayah trying to reach the pot from the cupboard way above her.

I tried to cover up my laugh with a cough when she glared at me. "S-Sorry."

When she moved to get a chair, I quickly went over and took the pot for her, setting it down gently to the counter. Amayah raised a brow, eyes looking up at me and slightly glaring. The smile on my lips widened, and without thinking, I leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. Letting my lips linger for a few seconds. Dark brown eyes widened at the short contact.

"Was that okay?" I asked in a whisper.

Amaya's mouth moved as if to say something, but a nod was her reply instead.

I decided to be brave again. "Can I do that again? When I feel like kissing your lips."

"Y-Yes..."

I grinned, happy for the permission.

"What do I do now?" I asked eagerly, having no idea how to make a homemade pizza at all.

"Do the pasta, I'll make the pizza." Nodding, I did what I was told.

I kept taking a few glances at the dark haired woman once in a while, giving a smile whenever she would catch me looking. It made me feel giddy when she acted a bit flustered as it means I might have some effect on her, right?

When I finished doing the pasta, which doesn't take long compared to making a pizza, I settled on sitting on the chair as Amayah continued to work her way around the kitchen effortlessly. Leaning my elbow against the table, I place my chin on my palm, watching the older woman prepare the toppings.

Her curly haired currently tied up, accentuating her face even more. I let out a sigh, appreciating the beautiful view. Now that I think about it, I'm so damn lucky to have someone like Amayah have feelings for me. Me, a student with barely an income, lives at the campus dorm and still accepts an allowance from her parents.

Compared to her, I'm barely to the point of starting a life for myself. She's successful, already has a good career, earning a good amount of income, built a reputation for herself and has a son. Although it made me feel somewhat inadequate, I couldn't help but feel happy that I'm still up to her standards.

It made me want to work harder to be her equal, someone she can be proud of and someone capable enough to be with her. Someone deserving enough to be loved by her.

I know I can do it. I'll do everything I can to be that someone.

"Can you stop?" I heard a slight whine, although something's telling me the whine isn't intentional.

I frowned at Amayah. "Stop what?"

"Staring at me." My vision became dark when a hand covered my eyes. Smiling, I took her hand, intertwining it with mine. The coward part of me told me to let go, but the other side kept on pushing me to let myself feel the softness of her hand.

"Is it uncomfortable?" I asked, concerned.

Amayah looked down at her intertwined hands, not moving to take hers away. "It's not that... just–nevermind."

I frowned at that. "What? Come on, tell me please. I will stop if it's bothering you."

"It's not bothering me, I like it," She whispered the last part. "I guess you can say I'm just getting used to this romance thing again."

"Really?" She nodded reassuringly. "Then I'll keep romancing you until you're used to it again."

With that, I let a little more bravery out and raised our intertwined hands, planting a gentle kiss on the back of her hand.

Being bold feels good.

One thing I'm always grateful about, especially now, is the fact that my skin doesn't show whenever I blush. Aiden smiled charmingly, hand still holding mine in a gentle grip. The need to feel her touch defeated the want to pull away. But honestly, I don't even want to pull away.

She's getting braver everyday.

"So, do you think I can–"

"Mom!" Our eyes widened, jumping away from each other. Aiden cleared her throat and busied herself with stirring the already cooked pasta.

"Y-Yes, baby?" My son walked in, another person following behind him.

"Dad's here." He pointed before leaving. Tristan raised his brow at my flustered state and at Aiden whose back is facing my ex.

"Hey," Tristan pecked my cheek. "So, uh... I have something to talk to you about." He eyed Aiden who finally stopped pretending to stir the food. With reddening cheeks, the taller girl understood the look on Tristan's face and gave us privacy.

"What is it?" I raised a brow, slightly irritated for getting interrupted.

"I know I said we should do this after the approval of our divorce, but would it be okay for you if I let Bianca meet our son?" Tristan scratched his eyebrow, a sign he's nervous.

"Why are you rushing?"

"I'm not, I just... I'm planning to do something after the divorce is finalized and I want them to be at leaat acquainted with each other by then."

My brow raised at his answer, having a guess of what it could be but not wanting to pressure him into telling me. But, isn't too early?

Oh well, it's his life.

"You'll tell him Bianca is your girlfriend?"

He shook his head. "No, just... yeah, I will. He's smart, he will know when I lie. But only if you're fine with it."

"I mean, it's been over a month already, if you're sure, go tell him."

"Really?" I nodded. "Yes, thank you!" I rolled my eyes when he once again lifted me off the ground, something he always does when he gets too excited. "I love you so much!"

"Put me down." I smacked his arm lightly.

"Aaron's asking–oh, sorry." Aiden frowned at our current position, eyes glancing at me and Tristan's arms around me. I pinched his side when he continues to not let me go, effective as he put me back to my feet. "Aaron's hungry, he's asking if dinner's ready."

"Tell him to give me 3 minutes." With pursed lip, Aiden nodded and left.

"Stop being so clingy!" I yelled in a whisper. "You're creating a problem for me."

"Problem for you? Why?" He frowned.

Shit.

"Oh, uh... just–"

"Ahh, I see what this is about." Tristan grinned, making my heart beat faster than ever. "You think Bianca is the jealous type?"

Oh thank g-d he's such a dumbass.

I laughed nervously. "I-I wouldn't want your girlfriend to think I'm trying to take you back."

"She wouldn't, trust me. Bianca knows I'm not in love with you anymore." He said without any care for my feelings.

"Wow, didn't even second guess it, asshole."

"As if you want to, we all know you're happy to get rid of me."

"I'm glad you're aware."

Tristan and I turned when someone knocked on the wooden cabinet. Aiden gave a slight smile, hands behind her back. "It's been 3 minutes, Aaron's asking if it's ready now."

I smiled at her obvious discomfort and fake smile.

"It's ready, Darling. Go call him."

So, she does get jealous too.

Cute.