After Rebirth, I Became My Ex's Aunt-in-Law

Thwack.

The sound of Aria’s bare heel making direct, unforgiving contact with the most sensitive anatomy of a grown man echoed sharply through the cavernous parking garage.

For a fraction of a second, the entire world seemed to stop spinning.

All the oxygen violently left Damien’s lungs.

Damien’s golden eyes blew wide. His hands flew instinctively to his groin as his broad shoulders folded inward. Without a sound, the billionaire crashed to his knees on the cold concrete.

He pitched forward, pressing his forehead directly against the pavement, letting out a low, agonizingly breathless groan through gritted teeth.

Aria gasped, her hands flying up over her mouth when her brain finally caught up to her actions.

”Oh my god!” Aria shrieked, dropping to her knees right beside him on the asphalt. ”Damien! I am so sorry! It was reflexes! I wasn’t thinking!”

Damien didn’t answer. He was fighting for his life against the blinding, nauseating wave of pain radiating through his lower abdomen.

”Damien, please say something!” Aria babbled frantically, her hands hovering uselessly over his broad back, entirely unsure of how to perform first-aid on crushed genitalia. ”Should I call an ambulance?! Should I call Elias?!”

Damien let out a harsh, ragged exhale, slowly lifting his head from the concrete. His face was pale, his jaw locked tight enough to shatter his own teeth.

He looked at her, his golden eyes watering slightly from the blinding agony.

”Fuck,” Damien swore under his breath, his voice strained and breathless. ”Are you... trying to permanently prevent us from having babies, Aria?”

Aria froze.

The word hit her brain like a flashbang.

Babies?

Aria’s heart kicked into a frantic rhythm against her ribs.

’Babies?! Plural?!’ Aria internally screamed, her emerald eyes blowing wide as she stared at him. ’Kids? Me? Now?! Does he want them right now? To inherit the Sinclair business empire? Do I have to birth a son? Is that still a thing?! What if I only have daughters?’

Her breathing turned shallow.

’Wait, can I even get pregnant?! I’m only twenty! I am still so young! Am I ready to be a mother?!’

Aria found herself staring blankly into the abyss of generational family planning on the floor of the parking garage.

Snap. Snap.

Aria jumped, blinking rapidly.

Damien was snapping his fingers in front of her face. He had managed to push himself up into a kneeling position, one arm securely wrapped around his stomach, watching her with a highly perceptive, amused frown despite his obvious pain.

”What are you thinking about?” Damien rasped, his eyes narrowing slightly.

”Nothing!” Aria squeaked, her voice pitching up three octaves into a highly suspicious, guilty tone.

Damien let out a slow breath, his eyes softening.

”Aria,” Damien murmured gently, reaching out to gently grasp her wrist. ”We don’t have to have kids if you don’t want them. Ever. It is entirely up to you.”

Aria swallowed hard, the frantic spiral in her chest unraveling instantly under the warmth of his reassurance.

She bit her lower lip, looking down at the concrete shyly. A furious, bright red blush flooded her cheeks.

”I do want them,” Aria admitted, her voice dropping to a soft, embarrassed whisper. ”Just... not right now.”

Damien chuckled—a warm, rich sound that immediately morphed into a pained wince as his abdominal muscles pulled.

”I wasn’t talking about right now either,” Damien promised, squeezing her wrist. ”Give me a minute to make sure my organs are still functioning, and then we can get off this floor.”

Aria immediately shifted into hyper-attentive caretaker mode. She slung his arm over her small shoulders, grunting with effort as she helped him up from the concrete.

They slowly limped their way over to where Damien’s sleek, midnight-black Maserati was parked in his reserved spot.

Aria helped him ease into the driver’s seat. He hissed through his teeth as he settled against the leather, leaning his head back against the headrest and closing his eyes.

Aria sprinted around the hood and dove into the passenger seat.

She immediately pulled her phone out of her pocket.

”Okay, I’m finding a cure,” Aria announced, her thumbs flying aggressively across the glowing screen as she bypassed Google entirely and went straight to the source of all medical knowledge.

She typed: what to do after kicking husband in the nut remedies Reddit.

”Aria, do not consult the internet for this,” Damien sighed without opening his eyes.

”Hush, the internet knows everything,” Aria muttered, her eyes scanning the forums. ”Okay, user ThroatGoat99 says you need to apply an ice pack immediately to reduce swelling. And user MedicalBro says if the pain persists, you might actually lose a testicle.”

Damien cracked one eye open, glaring at her. ”I am not losing a testicle.”

”We definitely need an ice pack,” Aria decided, locking her phone with a grim nod.

Damien reached over, popping open a sleek, hidden compartment in the center console. He pulled out a small, unlabeled orange prescription bottle. He shook two heavy-duty painkillers into his palm and dry-swallowed them instantly.

Aria watched him wince as he swallowed, a massive, crushing wave of guilt washing over her.

He was in agony, and it was entirely her fault.

She checked the digital clock glowing on the Maserati’s dashboard. They still had a little time before she needed to be at the studio for her morning talk show appearance.

Aria’s jaw set with determination. ”I am driving,” she announced. ”You need to rest your... swimmers.”

Damien paused.

The lingering pain of the blow was momentarily, entirely eclipsed by a sudden jolt of genuine, life-flashing-before-his-eyes terror.

He looked at his custom-built, multi-million-dollar Italian supercar. He looked at the incredibly complicated dashboard. And then, he slowly turned his head to look at his wife.

Damien raised a single, deeply skeptical eyebrow.

”Can you drive?” Damien asked slowly, his voice laced with profound concern.

Aria beamed, a bright, proud smile spreading across her face as she offered him a thumbs up.

”I have a driver’s license.”