One Night Stand, Eight Surprises: Pampered by My CEO Husband --- - Chapter 169: Chapter 169

It started with a prompt.
Arielle had been rearranging the study—sorting old photo albums, tossing broken pens, restocking blank journals—when she came across a vintage wooden box they used to keep on the dining shelf.
Once, it had held spare change and small love notes.
Now, it would hold dreams.
She wrote one sentence on the chalkboard in the kitchen:
“Write a letter: When I grow up, I want to…”
No names. No pressure. Fold it, seal it, and drop it in the wooden box by the end of the week.
There were no reminders. No expectations.
Yet by Friday night, there were eight folded letters inside.
It was past midnight when the house finally fell quiet.
Damien sat on the rug, barefoot and tired, next to Arielle, who held the box in her lap like it was made of glass.
“You sure we should read them?” Damien asked, rubbing his temple.
“They want us to,” she whispered. “Even if they don’t know it yet.”
She opened the first.
When I grow up, I want to live in a cabin by a forest. I want to make music just for myself. Not for applause. Not for money. Just because it makes me feel whole. I want to wake up every morning and not dread the day.
Damien inhaled.
Julian.
They didn’t speak. Just held the silence together.
When I grow up, I want to be brave enough to love who I want and not care who sees. I want to walk into a room and not shrink. I want to dance like no one’s watching. Even if they are.
Skylar.
Arielle’s eyes welled.
When I grow up, I want to work with endangered animals. I want to understand how the wild thinks. I want to be far away from city noise. I want silence, and stars, and things I don’t have to explain.
Micah.
Damien’s voice caught. “I didn’t know it was that deep.”
“You do now,” Arielle murmured.
When I grow up, I want to be seen. I want to know what it feels like to shine and not apologize for it. I want people to hear my voice and remember something real.
Amara.
Arielle covered her mouth.
“She’s still fighting to believe it.”
When I grow up, I want to teach. Maybe English. Maybe history. Maybe kindness. I want to make kids feel like they’re not invisible. Like their words matter.
Leila.
A tear slipped down Damien’s cheek.
“She already does that to her siblings.”
When I grow up, I want to protect people. Not with fists, but with ideas. I want to be the kind of person people turn to when everything feels like it’s falling apart.
Aiden.
Arielle placed a hand on her heart.
When I grow up, I want to be myself, even if I’m not sure what that looks like yet. I want to try things. Get it wrong. Start over. I want the freedom to become.
Probably Eli.
Damien smiled. “That sounds like his handwriting.”
When I grow up, I want to be someone my parents are proud of. Even if I don’t become a doctor. Even if I change my mind five times. I just want them to look at me and say, ‘That’s my kid. And I’m glad he’s mine.’
They didn’t guess the name this time.
They didn’t have to.
It was all of them.
Arielle rested her head on Damien’s shoulder.
He pressed a kiss to her temple.
“Whatever they become,” she whispered, “I already am.”
Damien tightened his arm around her.
“We’re raising wild hearts,” he said. “And it’s the hardest, most beautiful thing we’ll ever do.”
They sat there, surrounded by folded dreams and quiet hope, until the fire burned low and dawn peeked through the curtains.