"Oh, is that so?" she called after him, her tone light, almost teasing. "Then the gift she sent... should I just throw it away?"
At those words, Aron stopped mid-stride. His back straightened, and for a mont, the hallway was filled with silence. He didn’t turn around imdiately, but Es could see the slight tension in his shoulders, the way he froze at her words.
She knew she had struck a chord.
Aron froze in his tracks, the irritation still lingering as he kept his back turned to Es for a mont longer. He sighed deeply, clearly wrestling with his emotions, before stepping back and pivoting to face her. His eyes, usually sharp and guarded, now held a tinge of sadness. He raised his palm, holding it out in front of her—a silent request.
"Hmm," he mumbled, almost too quietly.
Es, pretending not to notice the weight of his gesture, glanced at him with an exaggerated expression of confusion.
"What?" she asked, feigning innocence, as if she had no idea what he was hinting at.
Aron’s hand trembled slightly as he shook his palm again, clearly asking for the gift this ti.
"Hmm," he repeated with a little more urgency, his patience thinning.
Es, however, wasn’t ready to give in just yet. She shifted her attention back to the child in her arms, carefully adjusting the milk bottle to his mouth.
"What?" she repeated, her tone playful, as though she genuinely couldn’t understand what Aron was asking for.
His frustration finally spilled over, his voice tinged with irritation.
"Es valhale, just give that damn gift !" The sharpness in his tone revealed just how close he was to losing his temper.
Es couldn’t help but smirk at his outburst. She tilted her head thoughtfully, as if mulling over his request. "Oh, that gift?" she said slowly, dragging out the mont for maximum effect. "Ah, yes. I rember now."
Aron’s eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin as he stood there, waiting for her to continue. But Es wasn’t finished with her playful teasing.
"But don’t you know?" she asked, her voice taking on a sing-song quality. "If you want sothing, you have to say the three magic words."
Aron blinked, caught off guard by her response. His brow furrowed, confusion mingling with the exasperation already building up. Slowly, he turned his head back to look at her, his jaw clenched in frustration. "What? You an... ’You are a bitch’?"
"Wrong!",Es raised a finger playfully, a mischievous smile lighting up her face. The corners of her mouth curled as she watched Aron’s expression darken, his fists clenching tightly at his sides.
"Oh, is that so? I rember that line! It’s ’I’ll kill you right now!’" he exclaid, frustration threading through his tone.
Es chuckled, shaking her head as if he were mistaken. "No, no, Aron! It’s only three words!"
Taking a deep breath, Aron tried to regain his composure.
"... you’re dead!" he growled, his voice low but laced with an unmistakable edge of playful nace.
Es sensed she had pushed him too far this ti. She watched as he grabbed a decorative vase from the table, lifting it like a weapon, his expression fierce but his eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Aron! Put that down!" she exclaid, laughter bubbling up nervously as she instinctively took a step back, the baby still cradled securely in her arms.
Aron ignored her plea, his face a mix of mock seriousness and amusent.
"You’ve really gone too far this ti, Es!" he shouted, taking a slow, deliberate step toward her, the vase still held aloft.
In a burst of instinctive speed, Es darted away from him, laughter spilling from her lips as she navigated around the spacious living room. She could feel the baby giggling in her arms, its innocent laughter infectious.
"Catch if you can!" she teased, dashing around the furniture, her heart racing with exhilaration.
The once silent mansion was now alive with sound—the lody of laughter, the soft patter of Es’s feet, and the baby’s cheerful coos filling the air. It was a stark contrast to the cold, still atmosphere that had lingered before Helga and her family arrived.
The house, once an echo of solitude, now pulsed with warmth and joy, creating a true sense of ho.
Aron, though pretending to be annoyed, couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face as he chased her.
"You really know how to test my patience, don’t you?" he said, a hint of amusent breaking through his feigned irritation.
Just as he was about to reach her, Es pivoted, giving him a cheeky grin. "What can I say? It’s my gift!"
The chase continued, laughter filling every corner of the mansion. Finally, Aron slowed, lowering the vase and shaking his head, defeated but clearly enjoying himself.
Es paused, breathless but triumphant, her eyes shining with delight.
Ray and Ryan exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern as they watched Es laugh with uncharacteristic joy, cradling the child in her arms. It was a stark contrast to the cold, indifferent woman they knew—one who moved through life with a flawless, almost chanical deanor, performing her role as a wife with precision but little warmth.
The laughter bubbled up effortlessly, filling the room with a lightness that felt foreign. Her eyes sparkled, a glimr of genuine emotion that was absent in her usual interactions with them. It was hard for them to reconcile this vibrant version of Es with the one they had grown accustod to, who wore her indifference like armor.
As she played with the child, they couldn’t help but wonder if this display of affection was simply reserved for those outside their family circle. The thought crept into their minds: if they were to have a child together, would Es’s heart thaw enough to nurture it with the sa love and laughter she so freely gave to this child? Would she be able to break through the wall she had built around herself?
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