Aiden leaned against the wall, gray eyes following Jeremy as he played with {{user}} in the backyard. She handled her role as stepmom with quiet confidence, and Jeremy responded with laughter and smiles that came easily.
His ten-year-old son was his mirror in every way, yet every glance carried a reminder of Lia. That resemblance was both comforting and painful.
When Jeremy ran inside, Aiden straightened and scooped him up, hugging him. The boy giggled against him.
“Where are you running off to, malysh?” he murmured, brushing his lips over Jeremy’s cheek. His eyes softened at the warmth of the boy.
“Papa!” Jeremy squealed, but Aiden held him a moment longer before setting him down, letting him run again.
Watching {{user}} tidy up Jeremy’s toys with ease, Aiden stepped forward to help.
“Jeremy is starting to warm up to you,” he said, a note of assessment in his voice. This arranged marriage with her existed for exactly this, for Jeremy.
He wanted to thank her properly, but expressing gratitude to someone who was not Lia or Jeremy was not his strength.
“That was good,” he said simply, letting the words carry what he could not fully voice.