38. The Re
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
THE REUNION
Malakai
I feed Willy as Julian walks into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. His clothes were soaking wet—as were mine—so we both had to wear my backup clothes. Watching him walk around in my old Saint Helena ROCKS shirt from a preschool concert a couple of years ago, plus my favorite athletic shorts… it messes with my head.
Kneeling down, I pet Willy as he eats his special food mixture. He makes a growling sound, so I lift my hand and chuckle.
“So territorial,” I mutter, quickly texting his sitter and thanking her for watching him earlier today when I was at work.
Fennec foxes need a lot of attention, and it doesn’t feel right to kennel him all day long. So I pay a Crestwood University student to come in and play with him for a few hours every day. She also stays overnight if I’m not here, and knows how to feed and walk him.
I look over at Julian, and he’s looking over the notes I have taped to the fridge.
I am worthy of happiness.
I am proud of myself.
I choose positive thoughts.
I am enough.
Fuck, I forgot those were there. Heat pricks the back of my neck, and I suddenly feel exposed in a way I hadn’t braced for. I can’t tell if it’s worse that Julian’s reading them so openly, or that he hasn’t said anything yet. His silence is somehow heavier than words would be.
My instinct is to laugh it off, to make a dry comment about how even foxes need daily affirmations. But the words stick in my throat. I glance down at the tile instead, scuffing it lightly with the toe of my sock like that might magically dissolve the lump rising in my chest.
I feel Julian walk closer to where I’m standing by the island.
“I like them,” Julian says, pointing to the handwritten notes and tapping them with his knuckle.
“Yeah, thanks. I’ve been seeing a therapist twice a week. Her name is Monica. She’s helping.”
I sound casual—too casual, maybe. Like I’m brushing it off before Julian can get any closer to the truth of it.
But it isn’t casual.
This—all of this—feels like laying out every fragile piece of myself and asking him not to touch anything too hard.
I brace myself for him to make a joke, but he doesn’t.
“That’s good,” he says after a beat, his voice softer now. “Soph and I need to find a therapist here. We had an amazing one in London.”
I blink, head lifting. “You’ve done therapy?”
Julian gives me a look—half amusement, half something else. “What, you think I just magically have my shit together?”
“No,” I admit, cracking the smallest grin. “But I wasn’t expecting you to admit it.”
He laughs, but the warmth behind it isn’t sharp. “You don’t get to be this fucked up in the head and not go to therapy.” He pauses before continuing. “Before I went on medication for ADHD, I just thought I was an anxious, depressed mess. I thought I was simply lazy. Being a viscount didn’t bode well for me. The responsibility destroyed me, and I desperately needed someone to tell me I was going to be okay.”
His bluntness chips away at my awkwardness, but it doesn’t completely erase the way my heart is thudding too hard against my ribs.
Julian shifts, glancing back at the notes again. “I get why it feels weird. I had to do something like this, too. In London, as a teenager.”
His eyes flick to mine, like he’s daring me to press further.
I don’t.
Because I get it.
My eyes bore into his, and it suddenly feels heavy. Weighted. And for the first time since we were teenagers, I feel like I know my friend again. Not just surface level Julian Ashford—but the real man behind the happy exterior.
He continues. “I’m glad you’re going to therapy. I think everyone should, honestly. My parents especially. They could use years of it, truth be told. Sophie’s parents too, though they might be a lost cause.”
I laugh, and his dashing smile disarms me completely. “Yeah. Monica is having me work on myself. Because I think I realized the reason I pulled away from you and Sophie wasn’t because of anything you did. But because, deep down, I don’t think I deserve the same happiness that my brothers have.”
Julian’s brows pull together. He steps closer, placing his hands on my shoulders. “But it was a little bit our fault. We could’ve been more clear about our intentions and feelings. We could’ve reassured you. I realize now, looking back, that we were this dynamic force that sort of came into your life like a tornado.”
“That’s exactly what you did,” I tell him, my voice soft as one of my hands cups his cheek.
“It was very easy for us to make you feel left out unintentionally. But never again. I should’ve noticed the night at Inferno, when you pulled away. I saw it, and I told myself it was nothing. I won’t miss it next time. Okay?” he asks, turning his head and kissing my wrist. “If Sophie and I realized one thing over the past month, it’s not how much you add to our marriage, but rather how much you were always meant to be with us. With her. With… me.”
His voice breaks on the last word, and I swallow as his eyes turn glassy.
“Yeah, I’m beginning to realize that, too,” I tell him.
Just as he starts to drag my face closer to his, my phone vibrates in my pocket.
“Sorry, one sec,” I say, pulling it out. “It’s my brother, Chase.”
“Take it. I’ll wait for you on the couch and try not to kidnap Willy.”
I laugh at this as I walk into my bedroom. The faint sound of Julian’s footsteps retreating follows me.
“Hey. So, is it done?”
Chase chuckles. “Oh, it’s done.”
There’s something weary in his voice, laced with satisfaction. I sit on the edge of my bed, resting my elbows on my knees.
“How bad was it?”
“Bad enough,” he says, sighing. “Rod’s off the board, effective immediately. We’ll frame it as him stepping down for ‘personal reasons,’ to save face, but I made it clear that he didn’t have a choice in the matter.”
I let out a sigh of relief, and my shoulders immediately feel less heavy. “Thanks, Chase. I mean it.”
“You don’t have to thank me. You may be older than me, but it’s my job to protect you. Even when you’re too stubborn to protect yourself. Remember when Dad kicked me out of the house for wrecking his car?” Chase’s voice softens.
I huff a laugh. “Yeah. I covered for your sorry ass until he found out the next day.”
“You didn’t have to. But you did, because you’re my older brother. I owe you, and this is just me paying you back. I’ll keep doing it, Kai. As many times as it takes.”
The weight of his words lingers between us. “Thanks.” Rubbing my mouth, I let out a heavy sigh. “So, what did he say?”
“Rod? Oh, he was flustered. Talked about Saint Helena’s moral values and some bullshit about setting examples. He claimed he was thinking of the school’s reputation. As if Saint Helena would ever be associated with that kind of intolerance.”
“Right,” I say, my voice light.
“He crossed a line, Kai,” Chase says, his voice harder now. “Not just with what he said about you or how he handled the situation with Bradleigh Evans, but also how he tried to wield his bigotry like a weapon. I told him there’s no room on the board for someone who can’t uphold the basic dignity of every student and staff member. I mean, you know why I bought the school all those years ago.”
“Jackson,” I murmur, thinking of his best friend, who was still on paternity leave with his husband and newly adopted son.
“And now my brother.”
My throat feels tight all of a sudden, but Chase continues. “Anyway, you know how Rod is. He tried to turn it back on me, calling me hypocritical for ‘silencing the opposition,’ while placating me with Bible verses. So, I taught him a lesson on tolerance.”
I huff a laugh. “Oh no. You lectured him? He hates that.”
“Damn right I did. He wanted to talk about values, so I threw it right back in his face. I told him it’s not about silencing dissent; it’s safeguarding decency. He didn't like that, and when he tried to push back, I… well, let’s just say I didn’t mince words about how Saint Helena would look in the media if it came out that a board member was using homophobia as leverage.”
I bark a laugh. “You’re ruthless.”
“I’m thorough,” he corrects over the phone. “And I’d do it all again for you. For any of you, actually. That’s what brothers are for.”
The line goes quiet for a moment, both of us letting the situation settle before us. Then Chase speaks again, softer this time.
“Kai, you deserve to be happy. To be yourself. No one gets to make you, or anyone, feel like that’s wrong. Least of all some outdated asshole claiming his last shred of power.”
His words catch me off guard, and I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Yeah, I’m working on it. Being myself. It’s a process.” I look toward the bedroom door. “Actually, I should go. Talk later?”
“You’re with them now, aren’t you?” Chase asks, his tone shifting to something warming, almost teasing. Something brotherly. “Julian and Sophie, I mean.”
I blink. “Julian’s here, yes.”
“Good.” There’s a smile to his voice, and it’s contagious. “He seems like a good guy. And Sophie, from what you’ve told me, sounds incredible. We’re looking forward to the bookstore opening next week.”
“She is incredible,” I tell him. “So is he.”
“Then don’t let anyone ruin that for you. There’s something special between the three of you. And if Rod or anyone else tries to get in the way, just say the word. You know any one of us will handle it.”
“I think you’ve done enough for one day,” I tease.
Chase laughs, but when he speaks again, his voice wavers. “I mean it, though. I’m proud of you. And I love you.”
I choke up. “I love you too.”
He clears his throat. “Okay, I’ll let you get back to Julian. And, Kai?”
“Yeah?”
“Be happy. That’s all any of us want.”
The call ends before I can respond, and for a moment, I just sit there, the weight of his words pressing into my chest. When I finally step out of the room, Julian’s waiting on the couch, Willy curled up in his lap.
“Everything okay?” he asks, looking up.
I nod, a small smile breaking through. “Yeah. Everything’s good.”
“Sophie’s on her way over,” Julian says, stretching.
“You hungry?” I ask, walking into the kitchen.
Julian follows me, and just as I open the fridge door, his arms wrap around my torso. “Yes, but not for food.”
I chuckle and turn around, finding Julian watching me with hooded eyes. “You’re insatiable.”
“With you?” he says, his breath caressing my face. “You’re right. I’ve never been able to get enough of you, Kai.”
His words cause my heart to stutter, and despite wanting to kiss him, I know we should probably eat something before Sophie gets here. We both worked out—and then we worked out.
“I told Sophie I don’t want anyone else but you. No more scenes. No more guests. Just us.”
My fingers twitch against him. “Are you sure? That’s a big part of her identity. And yours.”
“It was,” Julian agrees. “But we all evolve, right? We want you. She’s said it. I’ve said it. Believe us.”
Believe us.
That’s the hard part, isn’t it?
But I’m trying. Always trying.
“Sophie’s been mine for a long time,” Julian admits. “But maybe she can be yours too. If you want her.”
“I do,” I tell him earnestly. “I want both of you.”
“Good. So, about that food,” Julian says, his hands coming to the bottom of my shirt.
“I can make a salad? Grill some salmon?” I suggest, winking.
Julian pouts. “Fine. Real food, then.” He walks back over to the couch, and I can’t help but smile as I think of how to phrase what I’m about to say.
Because he deserves some reassurance, too.
“And, Julian?”
He turns to face me. “Yeah?”
“I’m not going anywhere either. I want this. I’m sorry I walked away, but I promise not to do it again.”
Julian’s expression softens. “I know. But thanks for saying it out loud.”
Turning back around, I grab the fresh salmon filets and quickly throw together a salad and some rice. Julian lounges on the couch, Willy curled up like some smug little prince in his lap. He’s flipping absently through channels, but his eyes flick toward the front door every few seconds, like he’s waiting for something.
Or someone.
I focus on slicing salmon, but my ears are tuned to the quiet hum of the room, the undercurrent of something that feels heavier than the sound of the TV.
Then Julian’s phone buzzes on the armrest, and he lifts it lazily. A grin spreads across his face.
“She just texted,” he says, stretching his legs out. “She claims she’s a few blocks away, stuck at a light.”
I glance over from the stove, flipping the fish with practiced ease. “Really? That was fast.”
Julian’s grin sharpens, eyes dancing. “Yeah, well. Did you see the video?” He smirks. “What did you expect? You basically summoned her with that.”
I huff out a soft laugh, shaking my head, but the truth is, I’m watching the door, too.
My heart’s been rattling around my chest ever since Julian hit send.
I don’t realize I’ve been holding my breath until the front door bursts open like she’s kicking it down.
Julian barely has time to sit up straight.
“Jesus Christ, woman,” he calls out, laughing. “I said you were leaving, not barreling down the motorway mowing people over.”
Sophie stands in the doorway, flushed and wide-eyed, chest heaving like she ran the last block.
“What did you expect ,” she snaps, breathless, “sending me a video that filthy ?”
Her eyes lock on me across the room, and something in her face crumples.
“Hi, little dove,” I manage, but my voice feels thick.
She sobs. Actually sobs, her hands flying to her mouth for half a second before she’s across the room in five strides, launching herself at me like she’s trying to crawl inside my ribs.
I barely manage to catch her, salmon forgotten on the stove as her arms clamp around my neck. Her legs wrap around my waist, and she crushes her lips to mine.
It’s not soft.
But it’s everything.
Julian whistles low from the couch. “You’re lucky I like watching, or I’d be insulted.”
Sophie breaks away long enough to glare at him over her shoulder. “You started without me. ”
He spreads his hands, grinning unapologetically. “ You took twenty minutes.”
“And thank you for the video,” she fires back, running her fingers through my hair, tugging lightly. “I’m going to cherish it for the rest of my life.”
I chuckle against her neck, but my hands grip her thighs tighter, grounding myself in the weight of her.
“I missed you,” I murmur, pressing my forehead to hers.
“I know,” she whispers back. “I missed you too.”
Her voice breaks, and she kisses me again, softer this time, slow and deliberate.
I open my eyes briefly to peek at Julian, and he’s smiling from the couch.
I hold her tighter, hoping she can feel it—how much I mean it.
And how much I don’t plan on letting go.