Sweet Hatred
Chapter 95: ... son-in-law."

Chapter 95: ... son-in-law."

ARIA

I stood there like a complete idiot, staring at the empty space where Kael had disappeared. My lips were still tingling, my heart still hammering against my ribs like it didn’t know he was gone. I should’ve moved. I should’ve gone inside. Instead, I just stood there, shivering like some lovesick fool who didn’t know better.

I rubbed the back of my hand against my mouth, as if that could erase what just happened. It didn’t. I could still feel him. His hands, his mouth, the heat he left behind like a curse. God, I hated him. I hated him for doing this. I hated myself even more for letting him.

A gust of wind hit me, snapping me out of whatever trance I was stuck in. I wasn’t some helpless little girl standing outside her own damn apartment. I wasn’t going to give him that power over me.

I grabbed the door handle and yanked it open, my fingers trembling from the cold... or maybe from something worse.

The second I stepped inside, the noise hit me like a brick wall again. Laughter, shouting, the high-pitched squeal of kids running around like lunatics. Balloons floated against the ceiling, and a half-squashed birthday banner hung crooked over the living room. It smelled like cake and pizza and whatever cheap candles Olivia found last minute.

I shoved the door shut behind me a little harder than necessary. No one even noticed.

"Aria!" Olivia’s voice cut through the chaos. I barely had time to turn my head before she was pushing through the crowd, a bright pink frosting stain on her sleeve and a look on her face like she was two seconds away from handing me a toddler.

"Finally. Where were you? Kaleb’s about to cut the cake."

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. What was I even supposed to say? Sorry, I was outside getting my soul chewed up and spit out by the man I’m supposed to hate?

Instead, I just shook my head and muttered, "Had to take a call."

It was a weak lie, and Olivia squinted at me like she almost didn’t buy it, but before she could push, one of the kids screamed bloody murder and she flinched. "Whatever. Just—come on."

I glanced over at Mom on the couch before following. She looked so small sitting there, bundled in a thick blanket, her wheelchair tucked beside her. Her eyes were half-closed, smiling faintly at the noise she probably didn’t have the energy to fully enjoy. It made my chest twist.

I forced a smile and turned back toward the party, pretending like I hadn’t just felt my whole world tilt sideways outside that door.

I ended up squeezed between two folding chairs, some little kid’s balloon animal crammed under my arm, pretending to laugh at whatever Kaleb was babbling about while Olivia cut the cake and her sorry excuse of a husband took pictures. Every noise felt like it was happening underwater.

I should’ve been happy. I should’ve been present.

This was Kaleb’s day. This was Mom finally home. This was supposed to be one of the good moments we held onto. But my chest felt too tight, my skin buzzing like I was about to crawl out of it.

"Aria, you want a slice?" Olivia shouted over the chaos, waving a plastic plate at me.

I nodded and took it, even though my stomach twisted at the smell of frosting.

Someone turned the music up. More kids started screaming. Someone dropped a cup, and soda splashed across the floor. Olivia was yelling at them to sit down before someone broke their neck.

I sat there, frozen in the middle of it, the plate balanced in my lap, the fork slipping between my fingers.

All I could see was his face.

All I could hear was my own heartbeat, pounding like it was trying to punch its way out of my body.

That bastard. He definitely did it on purpose. I mean... we’ve kissed many times haven’t we? So why was this one so different...

I stabbed at the cake, shoving a forkful into my mouth just to do something, anything, but it tasted like cardboard. I chewed and swallowed and smiled when Kaleb grinned at me with frosting smeared all over his chin, like I wasn’t cracking apart right there in my chair.

God, I was so stupid.

I should’ve known better than to think I could walk away from him and just... slip back into my life like nothing happened.

Like he hadn’t just looked at me like that. Touched me like that. Torn through every wall I thought I still had left. I had spent almost a week at his place letting myself drown in pleasure because he wouldn’t let me go.

I made it through two more bites of cake before Olivia’s voice cut through the noise again, sharper this time.

"Aria. Can you help me real quick?

I jumped up too fast, the plate tipping and nearly slipping out of my hand. I caught it, muttered something that probably wasn’t a real word, and shoved it onto the coffee table before weaving through the crowd toward her.

She met me halfway, looking frazzled, a roll of paper towels under one arm and Kaleb’s juice box in the other.

"Can you keep an eye on Mom for a sec? I need to clean up that spill before the kids start skating across it."

I nodded automatically, my mouth dry. Anything. Anything to get away from the center of the noise.

Mom was parked by the window, her wheelchair angled to watch the chaos without being dragged into it. Her blanket had slipped down her knees again, and she was fiddling with the edge of it, half-distracted, half-lost in her own thoughts.

I knelt beside her, fixing the blanket and smoothing it out even though she didn’t ask me to.

"Hey, Ma," I said, keeping my voice light. "Having fun?"

She smiled, small and a little tired. "It’s nice, isn’t it?"

Her hand patted my cheek, the way she used to when I was little, back before everything got so damn complicated.

I swallowed hard and nodded. "Yeah. It is."

And for a second, it almost felt real — the party, the laughter, the messy, noisy life I was supposed to be grateful for. But just beneath it, there was still that aching emptiness.

Still the cold imprint of where he’d stood, watching me, and then left without a word.

Mom’s hand didn’t leave my cheek right away. Instead, she patted me again, her smile getting a little mischievous, like she was about to say something I wouldn’t like.

"You know," she said lightly, "that young man from earlier—he seemed very nice. Gentle, too."

I blinked. For a second, I thought she was talking about someone else. Then it hit me.

Kael.

I laughed awkwardly, tugging the blanket a little higher up her legs even though it didn’t need adjusting. "He can be nice," I admitted, keeping my tone as neutral as possible. "But he’s mostly a pain in the ass" I mumbled to myself.

Mom gave me a look—one of those slow, knowing, mom looks that made me want to melt right into the carpet.

"What?" I said, trying not to sound defensive.

She shrugged, way too innocent. "He’d make a good son-in-law."

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