Father and son stepped out of the office like two tiny criminals. Slow steps. Apologetic faces. Eyes scanning the territory.
The living room was still a battlefield. Feathers drifting. Toys everywhere. A cushions were murdered in the name of curiosity.
"Where is Mumma?" Kairo whispered dramatically.
"I don't know," Zayn whispered back, equally serious.
"Maybe in the bedroom… or kitchen," Kairo murmured like a spy planning a mission.
They turned toward the kitchen. There she was. Standing at the counter. Calm and composed. Talking to the cook as if no feather rebellion had happened ten minutes ago.
"She looks normal now," Kairo whispered.
Zayn nodded cautiously.
"Let's test it," Kairo said.
He walked into the kitchen holding Zayn like a peace offering.
"Hey, babe," he greeted casually, flashing his brightest smile.
She didn't even look at him. Still talking to the cook. Father and son exchanged a silent glance.
Kairo tried again, stepping closer. "What's for lunch?"
Silence.
He sighed softly. "Are you ignoring me, darling?"
Finally, she turned her head slightly. The side-eye. Sharp enough to send goosebumps.
Kairo grinned anyway. Then she looked at Zayn with the exact same expression. Zayn deployed his ultimate weapon. The angel smile. But it failed.
Her face remained perfectly blank. Actually slightly terrifying. She turned back to the cook. "Let me know once lunch is ready."
Then she walked past them without another word.
Both males looked at each other again.
"Is she still angry?" Kairo asked the cook quietly.
The cook gave a small, careful shrug. "I don't know, sir. But she seems… disappointed. She told the housekeeper not to clean the mess."
Kairo sighed deeply. "This Soda Glass…"
He looked down at Zayn. "Mumma is punishing us, baby."
Zayn's little face crumpled. "I'm sorry, Dada…" he said softly.
Kairo immediately brushed his hair back. "Don't be sad. Mistakes happen."
Zayn looked up at him. "How do we make Mumma happy?"
Kairo thought for a moment, tapping his chin dramatically. Then his eyes lit up. "We clean the mess ourselves. And then we apologize properly."
Zayn straightened instantly. "Okay! I'll help."
Kairo smiled at the fierce determination packed into such a tiny body. "Come on, partner."
They marched into the living room like two volunteers on a rescue mission.
Zayn picked up toys one by one with serious concentration, placing each into the basket carefully. Kairo handled the vacuum cleaner, chasing feathers across the floor. He arranged the couch neatly, smoothing everything back into order.
Thirty minutes later, the battlefield had transformed. The living room looked peaceful again. No feathers floating. No toys scattered. Just calm.
"Finally," Kairo sighed, dropping onto the couch dramatically. Zayn climbed onto his lap right away.
"I'm sorry, Dada," he said again, a small pout forming. "Because of me, Mumma got angry… and you worked hard."
Kairo's heart melted on the spot. He pulled Zayn closer and kissed his cheek. "That's okay, Baby."
Zayn blinked up at him.
He gently cupped his son's cheeks and kissed the tiny pout away. "Dada isn't hurt. And I'm not upset. So no more sad face, okay?"
Zayn nodded slowly. Kairo grinned. "Now… It's time for Operation Charm Mumma."
Zayn blinked once, then nodded with equal seriousness.
"Come," Kairo said, standing up and lifting him down.
And together, the two brave men of the house walked toward the bedroom, ready to face their angry women and negotiate peace properly this time.
Sara sat in her room, focused on her laptop, completely absorbed in whatever was glowing on the screen.
At the doorway, two figures paused. One tall. One tiny. They looked at her. She still looked scary.
"Mumma…" Zayn's voice came out small. Fragile. Wrapped in guilt.
Sara's heart wobbled instantly, but she didn't turn yet.
"Mumma, please talk to me," he said, his voice trembling, walking towards her in tiny steps. "I'm sorry… Mumma, please don't ignore me…"
That did it. She turned. Before she could even process the expression on his face, Zayn ran to her, climbed onto her lap, and wrapped himself around her tightly. His little body shook as he burst into tears.
"I'm sorry, Mumma… please don't ignore me… I love you, Mumma… I won't make the house messy again… please forgive me…"
Each word hit her harder than any scattered feather ever could.
Sara's chest ached. She hugged him immediately, holding him close, kissing his hair.
"Shh… No baby... don't cry," she whispered, her own voice unsteady. "Mumma isn't angry. I'm not angry."
"I got scared that you might scold me, that's why I ran to Dada. Please forgive me, Mumma. I won't do that again." He clung to her, crying, like he was afraid he might lose her.
"I'm sorry, Baby," she continued softly. "I punished you too much. Mumma is sorry. I shouldn't have scared you like that."
Zayn's crying only grew stronger, against her shoulder, still clutching her shirt. It pierced straight through both of them.
Sara quickly took off her glasses and wiped her own tears before they could fall onto him. She held his face gently.
"Zayn… look at Mumma, baby," she whispered, voice trembling. "See? Mumma is not angry. Don't cry, my love."
But he clung tighter. "I love you, Mumma…" he sobbed.
Her smile broke through her tears. "Mumma loves you too, Baby... Mumma loves you a lot..."
Kairo stood at the doorway, silent. Watching.
The way they both cried together. The way they apologized to each other. The way their love wrapped around the room like something alive and protective.
It felt familiar. The same fierce bond he had witnessed the very first time he saw Sara hold their son. Unbreakable. Pure.
His own eyes burned, though he blinked it away.
Sara kept rubbing Zayn's back slowly, until his cries softened into hiccups. When he finally pulled back, she wiped his tears carefully with her thumbs and kissed his cheeks, his tiny wet face.
He sniffed, then, with serious determination, used his tiny hands to wipe her tears too.
She let out a small, watery-eyed laugh and kissed his palms.
He hugged her again, his tiny hands wrapped around her neck, "I'm sorry, mumma.. I won't hurt you again..." He said.
Sara smiled. "That's okay, baby... And next time, Mumma won't punish you hard for your silly mistakes," she also promised.
They stayed like that, apologising to each other, wiping each other's tears. Making up together for all the mistakes and hurt.
Kairo shook his head slowly, as if he had just witnessed the greatest peace treaty in history. Then he walked up to them and dramatically dropped onto the bed.
"How unfair," he said, "This little guy makes a mistake. You punish him silently. Then, both of you cry, hug, forgive each other… and what about me?"
Sara and Zayn turned to look at him.
"I was dragged into this emotional drama. I cleared the feather mess," he continued, counting on his fingers. "I received the silent treatment, too. I suffered emotional damage. Yet nobody asked how I feel. Nobody thought about Daddy's fragile heart."
Zayn spoke first, small voice careful. "I said sorry to you already, Dada…"
Kairo's expression softened instantly. "I know, baby. You did."
Then he slowly narrowed his eyes at Sara.
"But someone else didn't. I was punished without committing any crime. Daddy demands proper compensation for this damage."
Sara looked at him.
"Because of Daddy's spoiled behaviour," she said calmly, putting her glasses back on, "my baby Zayn is spoiled. He was a good boy before. Ever since Daddy came, he turned brat."
Kairo shot upright. "Because of Daddy?" he gasped, genuinely offended. "Are you accusing me, Soda Glass?"
"Yes," she said simply.
Kairo looked at Zayn for support.
But Zayn, traitor that he was, nodded firmly, agreeing with his mother, still tucked safely against his mother.
Kairo gasped, "You too, baby?" clutching his chest as if struck by betrayal. "How can you take her side? Remember, it was me who rescued you from that woman who chased you for one tiny mistake. It was me who cleaned the mess you created. And now you stand against me?"
Zayn blinked slowly, thinking, still snuggled safely against Sara.
"For that, I am thankful, Dada," he replied with surprising seriousness. "But it is also true that I am spoiled because of you. I was a good boy before."
Silence fell. Sara's eyes widened. Kairo stared at his son, surprised. The dignity of fatherhood collapsed in one sentence.
Sara pressed her lips together, trying very hard not to laugh. Kairo, meanwhile, looked deeply wronged by a tiny human who still needed help to wipe his ass.
He opened his mouth. Nothing came out.
Sara finally burst into laughter. "Baby, where did you learn to talk like that? And don't blame your Dada like this. He loves you too much. Say sorry to him."
Zayn turned to his father with soft eyes, this time. "I'm sorry, Dada," he said sweetly.
Kairo blinked twice, still recovering from emotional damage inflicted by a preschool philosopher. He made an exaggerated wounded face. "Dada is still hurt. Dada wants kissies as an apology."
Both mother and son giggled. Zayn climbed onto the bed, crawling towards his father, cupped his father's face in his tiny palm, and kissed both his father's cheeks.
Kairo smiled and pointed to his forehead. Zayn kissed there.
He pointed to his nose. Zayn kissed it twice.
Kairo chuckled and pulled him into his arms, attacking him with playful kisses. Zayn squealed, laughing, trying to escape while his father rolled on the bed with him, continuing the tickle and kiss ambush, unable to resist the irresistible creature he had helped create.
Zayn giggled uncontrollably, trying to escape. Sara sat there laughing freely now, watching her two boys being silly.