One Night Stand, Eight Surprises: Pampered by My CEO Husband --- - Chapter 113: Chapter 113

The private jet hummed softly above the clouds, but inside, the cabin buzzed with something electric—something rare.
Laughter.
Real, unguarded laughter.
Arielle sat near the window, one hand resting on her rounded belly, the other tracing a forgotten constellation on the glass. Across from her, Damien and Jonah argued over a card game. Elijah had earbuds in, swaying to music only he could hear. Iris sketched quietly, capturing every moment. Lily climbed between rows of seats with her bunny in tow, declaring herself “Queen of the Sky.”
Arielle closed her eyes.
This was joy.
This was peace.
They landed on a private island, untouched and wild. Palm trees swayed as the ocean breathed deep and slow. A small villa waited for them—white stone, wooden shutters, beds big enough for dreams to stretch in.
The first night, they dined beneath the stars.
Damien grilled fresh fish as Jonah and Elijah built a bonfire. Iris strung fairy lights around the veranda. Lily fed crumbs to a stray kitten that refused to leave her side.
“I could live like this forever,” Jonah whispered.
Arielle smiled. “Then we’ll make it feel like forever.”
Day two.
They swam until their skin wrinkled. Built sandcastles taller than Lily. Arielle wore a sundress and sunhat, her cheeks flushed, her smile radiant. Damien kept close—hand on her back, eyes always checking.
They were learning each other again.
That night, they danced.
No music, just the hush of waves.
Damien twirled Arielle, careful of her bump.
“You’re glowing,” he whispered.
“Must be the moon.”
“No,” he said, resting his forehead against hers. “It’s you.”
On the third day, it rained.
Hard and sudden.
The children screamed in delight, running out barefoot, soaking wet.
Arielle and Damien watched from the porch.
“Remember the first time we kissed in the rain?” he asked.
She laughed. “You ruined your thousand-dollar shoes.”
“Worth it.”
He leaned in. Kissed her again.
The rain softened. Then stopped.
That night, Elijah sat beside the ocean, quietly sketching.
Damien joined him.
“You okay?” he asked.
Elijah nodded. “I think... I’m finally breathing again.”
They sat in silence. The waves said everything else.
The next morning, Iris showed her mother the finished portrait: all of them laughing on the beach. Arielle stared for a long time.
“We look happy.”
“We are,” Iris replied. “We’re whole.”
On their last evening, a bonfire crackled again.
Arielle stood, belly pronounced, children huddled around her.
She looked at Damien.
“To healing,” she said.
“To us,” he added.
The flames danced higher.
And somewhere in the shadows, love grew roots deep into the sand.