Chapter 108: We Had A Divorce
The celebration had ended, and as Mark prepared to leave, he decided to go early. The intense aura that Zamian emitted was something he knew he couldn’t handle.
Normally, Mark would bid Mira and Zami goodbye with a special handshake, but tonight he settled for a simple high-five before waving at Mira and heading out. Darkness had already enveloped the fading evening, and although Zamian remained deep in thought, Mira was relieved he hadn’t left immediately after the celebration. There was something she needed to discuss with him, not just for her sake but for her daughter’s as well.
After Mark’s departure, Mira went to the kitchen to prepare dinner, making sure to cook something even Zamian would enjoy. During the celebration, she had found herself glancing his way from time to time. Was it because he looked more handsome, even taller, and more captivating than she remembered? The thought made her cheeks flush with warmth. Goodness, what was she thinking?
As she finished up in the kitchen, Zamian entered, having just instructed little Zami on how to use her new iPad. Mira’s hands froze mid-motion when she suddenly felt the weight of Zamian’s hand on her waist.
"W-what... stop," she whispered, trying to steady her voice, though only she knew how much she craved the warmth of his touch. But she couldn’t give in. They were divorced, and little Zami could walk in at any moment. It wouldn’t be appropriate.
Understanding her hesitation, Zamian finally pulled away, though not without a slight smirk. He handed her the cutlery she had been arranging, and when she turned to face him, their gazes locked. Her heart fluttered, and she quickly looked away, blushing. Zamian chuckled softly, clearly amused.
She remembered the day they had cooked together as a family—the easy laughter, the way he’d held her hand when she almost dropped a pan. The memory stirred something bittersweet within her.
"Let’s go," he said gently, breaking her reverie. Together, they carried the dishes to the dining area and began setting the table. Mira was touched that Zamian still remembered exactly how they used to organize the cutlery. Despite everything, he hadn’t forgotten.
She wanted to tell him he didn’t need to worry about her, that she could manage on her own, but she knew Zamian well enough to know he wouldn’t listen. They finished setting up, and as they gathered around the table, little Zami, Mira, and Grandpa joined hands for a short prayer. Zamian joined in too, though he looked a bit unsure. Mira noticed but didn’t comment, appreciating his effort.