Rayyan's clinging onto me like his life depends on it; his tiny arms are wrapped around my neck, hiding his face in the crook of my neck as he whines at his Dad. I coo at the one-year-old before turning to face my brother, Akir. His wife, Imani, stands at his side, her arm curled around his bicep as she softly smiles up at him.

You sure you'll be okay? Imani asks, gesturing to the toddler on my hip. Her palm rubs Rayyan's back as he relaxes into his mother's touch, pouting when she pokes his stomach.

Imani is a beautiful woman; in fact, I'm pretty sure she's way out of my brother's league. She's a tall, stunning women from Sierra Leone, and if there's anything she's taught me it's that nothing is ever impossible, that risks are worth taking-and she's also taught me how to make banging oleleh-but most importantly she's taught me that sometimes, sometimes all you need is a little push in the right direction to get what you want.

I nod and smile. I'll be fine. I've got a friend coming over later. He should be here in an hour or so, I say, pinching Rayyan's cheek as I kiss his forehead. I hope you don't mind.

"That's fine. Make yourself comfortable, alright?Imani grins, adjusting her messenger bag. Akir should be back before midnight; I hope that's not too late?

Waving her off, I shake my head. Not at all. Take as much time as you need, I say, fixing my gaze on the toddler as he sucks on his pacifier, dark brown eyes blinking up at me in pure interest.Rayyan's right here to keep me entertained.

Aiyana, a voice interrupts sharply, halting our conversation. I heave a sigh and await my brother's words, This friend of yours... what was his name again? Akir blends his innocent tone with the intention of making it seem as though he was genuinely interested, but he and I both knew that was not the case.

He had an irritating habit of shoving his nose into places it didn't belong-under the guise of care and protectiveness-and it was beginning to grow just a tad annoying. And I think he was beginning to confuse his overbearing nature for protectiveness.

Judah, I say simply, swivelling on my heel to plop onto the couch, feeling the plush material sink beneath me. Rayyan shifts positions, making himself comfortable on my lap, before I continue to speak, the subtle threat behind my words clear as day, Remember his name.

Judah's building a LEGO Hot Wheels truck with Rayyan at the kitchen island. I smile to myself when Judah grins at the toddler, his dimple making a swift appearance as he lifts his hand to ruffle Rayyan's curls. And at the sight, I forget how to breathe for a hot minute-the view never failing to catch me by surprise-and release a heavy breath before making my way over to the two.

I squeeze past Judah, my palm brushing the soft material of his shirt as I make my way to his side. He senses my presence, and when my eyes rise to meet his, I swear I see his smile falter a little-though I don't scratch that, try not to pay much attention to it-and turn to Rayyan.

Fufu, he enunciates slowly, tiny arms stretched out in front of him as he makes grabby motions with his tiny palms. Help make car, he points to the yellow piece of Lego, and then to Judah.

My eyes skitter towards the heap of Lego on the kitchen island, scattered against the marble counters, turning to Judah. He catches my stare for a few short seconds before focusing his attention on the body of the car; the object small in the palm of his hand until he passes it to Rayyan.

Your turn, little guy,he says softly, and I swear my heart almost bursts at the sight. I exhale softly, focusing my attention on a random piece of Lego. There's only so much restraint I have, feeling Judah's toned arm brush against my bare one, nothing but sizzling heat between us. And I know there's plenty of unanswered questions suffocating the two us, because from the way Judah glances towards me, an intensity in his eyes that even I can't decipher, his lips move to utter something, anything, yet the words are lost in his throat.

So, we say nothing. Instead, we let the silence burn between us.

He leans forward, forearms resting on the countertop as he clasps his hands; the silver metal of his bracelet reflects against the kitchen lighting before Rayyan bends forward, disregarding the Lego set and taking interest on the piece of jewellery clasped around Judah's tatted wrist.

When Rayyan leans too close to the edge, however, a strangled gasp slips past my lips. My attempt to reach him in time is futile, because the moment I feel my palm touch skin, I realise Judah's beat me to it. Judah's hand pushes against Rayyan's stomach, fixing his position upright, my own palm resting atop of his.

Heat rushes to my cheeks, lifting my lashes to look up at Judah. He holds my stare before turning to the toddler; I take that as a cue to remove my hand, moving it to rest on Rayyan's little arm instead.

Little man, you need to be more careful, Judah says sternly, eyebrows pulled together as he narrows his eyes. But when Rayyan's lower lips begins to wobble, glancing from Judah to me, I'm quick to stick out my hand, flicking the back of Judah's head.

A groan rumbles from the back of his throat, twisting his head to glare at me. I stare at him blankly and scoop Rayyan into my arms when he releases his first cry. He gives us two minutes to reconsider our actions before he's belting out his highest notes; I'm pretty sure the neighbours could hear his cries.

The man in front of me simply drops his head in defeat, muttering to himself before turning to me sharply. I attempt to soothe Rayyan, rubbing his back as I begin to circle the kitchen island, murmuring comforting words, though it doesn't do much. This is your fault, I grumble to Judah, tone laced in annoyance, You should know by now how sensitive children are.

Judah chooses to ignore my words, standing upright to make his way to my side. I turn away, fearing Rayyan's waterworks would start again. But Judah simply peers over my shoulder, and I can feel his palm against my hip as he does so, his movements so natural. My breath hitches when he presses his front against my back, and for a short second, I'm transported back to the kiss we shared in his bathroom.

I clear my throat as Judah's right hand moves around my side, reaching over to Rayyan. Judah's thumb brushes over his cheeks, chuckling to himself when Rayyan lifts his head slowly to peer up at the giraffe. I feel Judah's chest vibrate at the action, his warm laugh filling up the room and pulling me into a warm hug. I feel my lips curl up into a small smile at the sound and attempt to move away.

Yana, he calls out to me, heaving a sigh. Give him to me.

Shaking my head in response, I open the fridge door, searching for the milk as Rayyan yawns silently. No, you're going to make him cry.

But when Judah palms grip my hips, forcing me to turn around, the threat on my lips fizzles out. He shuts the fridge door behind me, keeping his eyes trained on me. I swallow thickly, unable to keep myself composed; my eyes flicker from his lips, to the chain dangling around his neck as he leans over me, allowing me to sneak a look down his shirt.

He flicks my nose, bringing my attention back to him, and reaches out to a sleepy Rayyan-the traitor immediately leans over and outstretches his tiny arms to Judah-and Judah refrains from grinning when the toddler flings his body towards him. Where's his bedroom? He looks tired, he says, glancing down at the one-year-old who is now snuggled against his shoulder, and I almost, almost, feel jealous.

When Judah flashes me a soft smile, I can't help but relax, feeling the tension from earlier dissipate, as if there was nothing wrong, like nothing could go wrong, as if there was no conversation needed to be had.

I want nothing more than to stay here, to savour this moment, because moments like this didn't come around often. I want nothing more than to stay here with Judah, just the two of us, because he made me happy... really fucking happy.

But he and I knew, sooner or later, we'd have to address the elephant in the room.

i'm so sorry this chapter took forever to post. uni is kicking my ass and i'm back at work and i hate life rn lol but i enjoyed working on this chapter sm. totally not giving me future aidah vibes

but fr, i've figured out his this book is going to end and i LOVE ITTTT.

and a very happy international woman's day. i love you all so much.

thank you for reading and thank you so so much for 70k reads. i remember three weeks ago i was at 7k? reads but wow thank you. thank you.

this is only the beginning ❤️