Golden Melody (Editing)

Chapter 96

Chapter 96– Lavender Water & Promises

The bathwater was warm and comforting, scented with lavender and something sweet—honey and milk, maybe.

Miexha sat curled at one end of the large tub, her knees drawn to her chest, chin barely above the surface, her face flushed redder than the sunset outside. She refused to look directly at Jayson, who had claimed the other side of the tub like it was a casual spa day and not a full-on crisis for her dignity.

He was calm. Too calm.

She peeked.

Still shirtless.

Still unfairly attractive.

Still smiling at her like she wasn’t internally combusting.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she muttered, cheeks puffed. “You’re making it worse.”

Jayson tilted his head, amused. “Like what?”

“Like you know something I don’t!”

He chuckled. “That’s because I do. I know you. Every version of you. Even this shy, flustered teenage one who keeps trying not to peek.”

“I’m not peeking!” she squeaked. Then added under her breath, “...Much.”

Jayson leaned forward slightly, voice playful and soft.
“You used to be bolder, you know.
You’d trap me in the shower and steal my towel just to get a reaction.”

“Lies,” she hissed, sinking deeper like a startled turtle.

“Once, you grabbed my butt in front of Asha.”

“I would never!”

“She almost drowned in orange juice from choking. She said, ‘My innocent brother has fallen into the pervy claws of Miexha the Great!’”

Miexha gasped. “I am a lady!”

“You’re a menace,” he said affectionately, reaching for her foot under the water.

She yelped, kicking. “No touchy!”

But he didn’t let go. Instead, he gently massaged her ankle, thumb tracing slow, soothing circles.

“You always forget,” he murmured, quieter now.
“But I always remember. Every phase of you. I remember the girl who cried when she held our baby for the first time. The woman who danced barefoot in the kitchen at 2 a.m. while I fed our first born. The one who made me promise not to die early because you said you couldn’t raise three gremlins on your own.”

“I said that?” she whispered.

“You did. While waving a spatula at my head.”

She groaned, covering her face. “I’m horrible.”

He reached forward and brushed her wet bangs from her forehead. His touch was reverent.

“You said once,” Jayson continued, voice almost a whisper now,
“that even if you lost every memory, I’d find a way to make you fall in love with me all over again.”

Her breath caught.

“Looks like we’re halfway there,” he teased, tapping her nose.

Her lip trembled. “I still feel like a girl, Jayson. Like I shouldn’t be here… in a tub with you… knowing we’ve—done things.”

He leaned closer, not touching her, but close enough that his breath danced against her skin. “It’s okay,” he said gently.
“You don’t have to rush. I’ll remind you slowly—through touches, stories, silly memories. Like how you used to wear my shirts and nothing else just to distract me during Zoom calls.”