Could people explode from a kiss? Alex sure felt like it. Her eyes instantly went wide. The spot Logan touched with his lips burned like a hot pan. The rest of her face and down to her neck had warmed up, blood rushing everywhere. She buried her face in her hands and prayed Logan didn’t see her demise.

How could—well—it was only a kiss on the temple. It probably didn’t mean anything, right? Just the mere thought of it burned her face. Maybe she should whack Logan in the head. How could he do something unexpected? Was it the way she looked? He did compliment her before.

Her heart raced. She could hear her pulse on the side of her neck. A dull ache throbbed at the back of her mind. She probably should calm down first before going back inside.

Logan entered the ballroom. He stopped in front of the door. He tucked a hand inside his slacks and covered his mouth with a fist. He closed his eyes, He couldn’t see it but he had a feeling his ears were noticeably pink. He hadn’t heard anything behind when he walked away. He didn’t know what to make of it.

He was too scared to look.

His heart hammered inside his chest. The nerves in hands became agitated. They began to shake. It was a risky move but it was safer than others—at least, he hoped Alex wouldn’t avoid him because of it.

He opened his eyes. Their vision reached up to the other side of the ballroom. An idea popped up inside his head. The shake in his hands intensified. It sounded riskier than a kiss on the lips. He glanced up the ceiling. It didn’t sound encouraging but it was the right thing to do. His legs moved, his feet taking him to his target. He had no time to lose or he’d lose the courage.

When Alex stood from the swing, she found out her legs had become numb. She could still move them but they almost felt artificial. She made unsteady steps back to the door she used to enter the garden.

The moment she opened the door, she had been attacked. A delicate hand grabbed her wrist, locking her from escape. The person tugged hard. Alex almost tripped from the force. It didn’t help that her legs turned into gelatin.

She looked up once she could match the person’s pace. Her mother’s hair greeted her sight. Before she could open her mouth, Angie glanced over her shoulder with alarm in her eyes.

“Your grandfather’s here.”

Alex raised her eyebrows. Her mother led her to an isolated room. If she remembered right, her grandparents had a fight. They probably requested them to move before they could make a scene.

The dull ache Alex felt escalated. Loud voices grew clearer the further they walked. It did not sound pretty. Alex hadn’t picked up any porcelain hitting the floor which was a good sight, at least.

Angie stopped in front of a door, her hand gripping the knob. She pressed her ear against it. It didn’t seem like the argument would end anytime soon. She just wanted to put a distance between the kids or they’d have a war zone.

Alex followed her example. Her mother must be trying to find a good time for them to enter.

Inside, Hachi sat with Emily on a red velvet sofa. The both of them watched the couple pace around the room. The moment Hachi pushed them into the room, she instructed them to stand at opposite sides of the room. Jaime faced the window with a hand on her hip. Her husband stood by the door, his cobalt blue eyes misty as a cloudy day.

Those were the eyes Emily inherited.

She had never seen her grandfather look younger than he did at the moment. He had his white hair dyed into a deep brown color. He must have gone to a hairstylist before he came because she doubted he could style it in the latest fashion trend. The strands at the nape of his neck trickled down like an arrow, the tip hidden by the collar of his black dress. Most of the front had been gelled with a few strands sticking out.

Emily and Hachi gulped in sync when Jaime turned around. Her eyes had turned razor sharp, ready to slice her husband if she wanted to. Oliver Greenwood was the only in the room that remained calm. The way he looked reminded her wife of their youth—of the cold young man who became a workaholic even before he graduated.

Just where did he get the idea of dropping a salon before coming here?

“What are you even doing here?” Jaime said coldly, an eyebrow cocked upwards, “I don’t remember sending you an invitation.”

Oliver closed his eyes briefly and sighed, “That matter aside, I came here to apologize. You wouldn’t answer any of my messages nor my calls. I couldn’t stand letting you have another night of unrest. I know our fights upset you a lot.”

Jaime chuckled without humor, “Couldn’t stand it, huh? Then, why did you fight me in the first place?”

“I didn’t,” Oliver defended, “Our argument was over the emergency business I received yesterday and how the duration of it could affect your birthday.”

“Which is why you didn’t receive an invitation.”

“And why would that stop me from not missing my wife’s birthday?” He asked, an incredulous look on his face. He crossed his arms over his chest, “No matter what time of day it would be, I’d spend every free minute I had with her.”

“Mom, are we watching a soap opera?” Emily whispered.

Hachi smiled, “It may not look like it but your grandfather is actually a romantic.”

Jaime and Oliver held a stare down. No electric waves in between them. What their eye contact showed looked more like a storm against a serene sky, the storm trying to overpower the quiet day. Normally, it wouldn’t take long for the dark clouds to engulf the sky but this one fought back with iron gates to keep them away.

“I’m still upset with you” Jaime spat after some time, breaking the ice. Her free hand clenched into a fist. She had the urge to welcome him with it. A punch to the face wouldn’t do much damage right?

“Okay” her husband replied. None of Oliver’s muscles twitched from her simmering anger.

“I won’t forgive you that easily.”

“Alright.”

His aloof and cool voice pierced Jaime. She had heard it most of her life. All these years and her husband still hadn’t changed. Whenever she was rampant on emotions, he’d become solid as a rock. Sometimes she’s grateful for it. Sometimes she wished he acted softer. His sweet words would be more effective that way. Yet, she always tried to push his buttons in case he’d learned from the previous times.

A tear fell from her eye.

Oliver quickly closed the distance between them. He grabbed her shoulder and wiped the tear with his handkerchief, “Wait, what… why are you crying?”

More of them streamed down Jaime’s face. Emily could see the panic in her grandfather’s face. The crease in between his eyebrows curved upwards and his eyes remained wide with worry. He patted Jaime’s face as fast as he could, preventing her makeup from being ruined.

His wife pounded two fists against his chest, yelling at his face, “Why the hell do you look like that you, jerk?! I look like a cougar now next to you!”

Emily covered her mouth immediately. She felt a laugh puffed out her chest. She held her breath, keeping it locked inside her lungs. Only her grandmother would find his grandfather’s efforts to look good upsetting.

The door opened. Angie and Alex stepped inside, relieved expressions on their faces. The four of them watched as Oliver did his best to calm down his crying wife. He acted cold and stoic whenever she was angry but once her tears appeared, he shuffled around her like a puppy.

“How did it go?” Angie asked Hachi, joining her on the sofa. Alex separated from her and sat next to Emily.

Her sister-in-law merely shrugged, “Honestly, they’d have worse fights than this.”

Jaime’s eyes landed on the sofa. Her eyes had blazed up once more. All four girls gulped. Did they do something wrong? They actually stayed out of the fight this time. Their habit of meddling was hard to stop but they managed it.

“What are you all doing there? Do you have no respect for your elders? Come and greet, grandfather!” She scolded them.

Angie and Hachi were the first ones to stand up. Their daughters followed behind them, not wanting to be screamed at again. A warm smile blossomed on Angie’s lips, “So you and father-in-law made up now, huh?”

“He’s still a dick but he’s lucky that I love him” Jaime sighed with dejection.

“I know I am” Oliver chuckled.

His wife froze on her spot. She should have known he’d soften up at surprising times. All these years and he still found a way to do it. A helpless smile crawled up her lips. She kissed his cheek, hugging his torso, “I am very lucky too.”