Epilogue
THE LEGACY
Malakai
Twenty Years Later
I open the front door of the house and gesture for Sophie to walk in before me. It feels empty and… quiet. She walks into the foyer, setting her purse down on the table and stepping out of her sneakers. I close the door behind us, and the sound echoes so loudly that I almost flinch. When she turns to face me, there are tears running down her face, and my heart clenches at the sight.
“Come here,” I say softly, holding my arms open.
She doesn’t hesitate. Walking over to me, she collides with my body and begins to sob. My hands squeeze at her sweater, and my throat aches with unshed tears.
“God, I miss him s-so much,” she says, her voice hoarse.
I kiss the top of her head, squeezing my eyes shut. It’s futile. Before I can stop it, my body shakes as I cry. Sophie squeezes me tighter, her fingers grabbing at my torso. I can feel her pain, and it nearly knocks me over.
“I know, little dove. I miss him, too.”
“What are we going to d-do without him?”
I sniff, blinking rapidly to clear the tears. “I don’t know.”
“Nothing w-will ever be the s-same,” she adds, hiccupping as she cries.
“It won’t be, but we’ll adjust. Okay? We’ll adapt. We’ll find a new routine, and we’ll be okay. Because we have to be.”
“I didn’t think…” She trails off. “I didn’t think it would be this hard.”
“I know, Soph. I didn’t, either.”
“I mean, you p-prepare yourself for this day your whole life, but…”
“I know. But nothing can prepare you for this feeling.”
She continues to cry, resting her cheek against my chest as I rub my hand down her back. Kissing the top of her head, I pull away slowly.
Her eyes are bloodshot, and her lips tremble as she lets out a small laugh. “God, I’m a mess, aren’t I?”
I give her a gentle smile as I run a hand down the side of her face. “Still as gorgeous as the first day I saw you.”
It’s true. Other than a few fine lines, Sophie looks incredible for fifty. I still think she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Her hair might be a little shorter now, just below her chin. And there may be a few gray strands mixed in with her honey blonde locks, but watching her still takes my breath away, even now.
She gives me a watery smile and runs a hand through my hair. “I know you’re just trying to flatter me because I’m sad.”
Taking her hand, I bring it to my lips. “So what if I am?”
She sniffs and shakes her head, and her smile drops off her face immediately. “It helped momentarily. Thank you.”
Reaching into her back pocket, I pull her phone out. “Do you want to call him?”
This perks her up. “Should we? I mean… is it too soon?”
I huff a laugh. “I don’t think so. If it’ll make you feel better, why not?”
She pulls her lower lip between her teeth and nods vigorously. “Okay. Let’s call him.”
I try to hide my smile at the hopeful tone in her voice as I dial. Holding it in front of me, I put it on speaker as it rings a few times. When it finally picks up, Sophie jumps once and reaches for the phone.
“Rowan?”
“Mom?”
“Hi, sweetie,” she says, her voice breaking. “I’m just calling because, well, I missed you.”
I hear Rowan huff a laugh on the other end. “I miss you too, Mom. A lot.”
Sophie’s eyes leak more tears, but she holds it together. “Make sure Dad doesn’t eat too many Flamin’ Hot Cheetos before your flight, okay? It’ll upset his stomach.”
“Too late,” Rowan says, laughing. There’s an announcement in the background, and I hear Julian say something to Rowan in the background. “Mom, I have to go. We’re boarding.”
“Okay. I love you. Have a safe flight. I’ve already sent your first care package, so it should arrive at your flat sometime this week. And then of course we’ll be there to visit in a couple of weeks?—”
“Mom?” Rowan’s voice is softer now. “You’re spiraling. I promise I’ll be fine. Dad’s here to help me get settled, and I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”
Sophie nods, squeezing her eyes closed. “Okay. I love you.”
“Love you too, Row,” I chime in.
“Love you, Dad,” he replies. “Do you want to talk to Dad?”
Before Sophie and I can answer, Julian’s voice flicks through the speakerphone. “Couldn’t even wait an hour, could you?” he asks, amusement tinging his voice.
Sophie chokes out a laugh. “I know.”
“He’s fine, Soph. I promise. I’ll get him all settled and show him the lay of the land.”
“You mean take him to all of your favorite pubs and get him his first pint?” I chime in.
Julian laughs. “Probably. He’s eighteen, it’s legal to drink there.”
Sophie snorts. “Give him a kiss and a hug from me.”
“I will. I promise. But we really do have to go because we’re boarding. See you two in a few days when I get home. Love you both.”
“Love you more,” Sophie and I echo together as the call ends.
Handing her phone back to her, she gives me a tight smile. “That helped. Thank you.”
I take her hand. “Do you want to go sit on his bed and have another cry?”
This makes her laugh again. “God no. I’m not stepping in there for at least a month or two. I’m not a masochist.”
Bringing my hands to her shoulders, I rub them gently as I look down at her. “He’s only off to college. He’s not going to be gone forever. There’s Christmas break and summer break… he’ll be back. All right?”
She scoffs. “I know I’ve said it a thousand times, but why did he have to go to London? Why couldn’t he stay here?”
I give her a knowing look, and she lets out a sharp gasp before placing her hand over her mouth. “Fuck, I sound just like my mother.”
“Yeah. I wasn’t going to say anything, but…” I tease.
She swats my arm. “Don’t be cheeky.”
“I’m always cheeky.”
“I need a distraction,” she declares. “Bea’s at the shop, and Twix is on stall rest after his vaccinations.”
I wiggle my brows. “I’m here.”
“You don’t have to get back to Saint Helena today?” she asks.
I shrug. “I can take a day off.”
“Okay. What if we made some cinnamon rolls and cuddled in bed?” she suggests.
“That sounds perfect.”
Sophie
Later that evening, as the scent of cinnamon rolls lingers in the air, I find myself sitting in Rowan’s room. I know I told Kai I wouldn’t step in here for a month, but I couldn’t resist. The space feels like him, like all the memories we’ve built as a family. His bookshelf is a mess, overflowing with novels Julian and I gave him, with dog-eared pages peeking out from nearly every spine. There’s a photo on his desk of the four of us at the grand opening of The Story Nest in Larchmont Village, all grinning like idiots, holding up copies of our favorite books.
The ache in my chest from earlier is still there, but it’s gentler now. Sitting on his bed, I pick up one of his worn notebooks, thumbing through sketches and notes. He’s always had Julian’s eye for detail and my flair for creativity, though he’s far more disciplined than either of us. I smile to myself, wondering if that’s the Kai in him, the steady, grounding presence that holds everything together.
I glance at the corner of his desk, where a small, framed quote rests. “A family is a nest of stories, woven together with love.”
Julian gave it to me when I opened The Story Nest in San Francisco. He said it reminded him of what we’ve built, what we’ve shared. With seven locations of The Story Nest now under my belt, the last several years have been chaotic and busy. If I’m being honest, life’s been chaotic—in the best way—for a very long time.
But I wouldn’t change it for the world.
The bed dips beside me, and I look up to find Kai. He’s holding two steaming mugs of tea, his hair damp from the shower. “Thought you might need this,” he says, handing me one.
“I said I wouldn’t come in here,” I admit, a little sheepishly.
Kai chuckles, leaning back against the headboard. “You lasted longer than I thought you would.”
We sit in companionable silence, sipping tea and letting the quiet of the house wrap around us. My fingers trace the rim of the mug as I glance at Kai. “Do you think we’ve done enough?”
He looks at me, his brows knitting together. “Enough?”
“For him. For Rowan. To make sure he knows how much we love him, how proud we are.”
Kai sets his mug down and takes my hand. “Sophie, we’ve spent eighteen years loving him with everything we’ve got. He knows. And if he ever doubts it, he’s got three parents who will fly across the world just to remind him.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, nodding. “You’re right. I just… I can’t believe he’s grown up. It feels like yesterday I was holding him for the first time. Do you remember when we got the call from the adoption agency? God… I can’t believe that was eighteen years ago.”
Kai’s hand tightens around mine. “It goes fast. But we’ve still got a lifetime of memories ahead. And hey, maybe one day he’ll give us grandchildren to spoil.”
I laugh, swatting his arm. “Let’s not rush him. He’s still my baby.”
“Always will be,” Kai agrees, his voice soft.
As the quiet surrounds us, I feel the ache of Rowan’s absence start to shift. It’s still there, but now it’s joined by something else—hope. Because even though he’s off to London, starting his own story, the nest we’ve built will always be here, waiting for him to return.
Julian
Two Weeks Later
“I don’t mind it. Tastes like coffee,” Rowan says, grinning as he sips his Guinness.
I hold my Guinness out to him and we clink glasses. “That’s my boy.”
Sophie laughs next to me, her cheeks pink from the crisp autumn walk we all just took through Mayfair. Kai’s arm is around her shoulders, and the pub is noisy for a Wednesday afternoon.
“So, how are your classes?” I ask, leaning back in the vinyl-covered booth.
Rowan shrugs. “They’re all right. My art history professor is strict. He doesn’t like me. But Bronte’s been showing me around London on the weekends,” he adds cheerfully, referring to Liam and Zoe’s son, who moved to London earlier this year and is two years older than Rowan.
“That’s nice!” Sophie answers cheerfully. “Must be great to have your cousin so close.”
“Beatrix and Adaline will be visiting in November, right?” Kai asks, sipping his whiskey. Rowan nods. Beatrix is twenty-two, and her younger sister is nineteen. They’re the troublemakers of the family, and the reason we all suspect Miles was the first brother to go fully gray.
“Yeah. They want to bring the whole American experience to London,” he muses, rolling his eyes. God, when he does that, he reminds me so much of Kai. “Aunt Stella and Uncle Miles have been emailing me every day to figure out how they’re going to cook a twenty-four-pound turkey in my tiny oven. I guess Rose and Hugh are mad they’re too young to come visit alone,” he says, referring to Juliet and Chase’s seventeen-year-old fraternal twins.
“That’ll be lovely,” Sophie says, Squeezing Rowan’s hand across the table. “Sounds like you’ve got lots of visits from family to make sure you don’t get homesick.”
“I promise I’m not homesick, Mom,” he says, squeezing her hand back. “I really like my classes and I’ve made a few friends. Plus, Aunt Layla, Uncle Orion, and little Sebastian aren’t that far away if I ever need some family time. Just a short train ride to Paris,” he says, his voice reassuring as he refers to Kai’s youngest brother and their family, who now live in Paris. Again, he reminds me so much of Kai when he has to talk Sophie and me down like this.
“And with Bronte being here…” He smiles at Sophie. “I know you’re worried about me. But I promise I’m fine. Okay?”
Sophie nods once, tears pooling in her eyes. “I know.”
He kisses her hand. “Love you, Mom.”
“Love you, too, Row.”
I wink at Sophie as she swipes a stray tear from under her eye. My heart clenches that she’s so distraught about our son spreading his wings. But it’s also adorable to watch how much he cherishes her, and how much she loves him in return. The day we picked him up at the hospital in California when he was five days old was the day both Kai and I became second in line to her heart. She’s an incredible mum—motivated, hardworking, and yet still present and caring.
A few months before we adopted Row, the three of us had a commitment ceremony. Although we couldn’t legally get married to Kai, it was important to us that we all have some way of making vows to each other. Kai completes us in ways we never would’ve been able to find without him. And raising Rowan in the sunshine of California, at Ashford Palace where all three of us left our own marks, surrounded by all of his cousins, aunts, and uncles nearby…
I am a very, very lucky man.
“Rowan?”
All four of us look up to see a man in a blazer looking down at Rowan with a furrowed brow.
“Um, hi, Professor Blake.”
Professor Blake looks between Rowan, Kai, Sophie, and I, placing his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels.
“Oh, sorry, these are my parents,” Rowan explains, gesturing to the three of us. “Mom, Dad, Dad… this is my art history professor.”
Ah, the one Rowan thinks doesn’t like him.
“Nice to meet you,” Kai says, his American accent standing out in the quiet hush of the pub. We all reach out to shake his hand, and he reciprocates, but his eyes don’t leave Rowan’s. He’s young. Early-thirties, if I had to guess. Handsome. He has that brooding professor thing down pat.
“See you in class tomorrow?” Professor Blake says, arching a brow.
“Yes, sir,” Rowan says, cheeks turning pink.
“Nice to meet you all,” he says, his voice low. “Perhaps I’ll see you around as well?”
“Yes, we’re staying for the week,” Sophie adds.
Professor Blake just nods once and looks at Rowan again. “Have a nice night.”
He’s gone before any of us can utter a goodbye, but when I look back at Rowan, he’s staring down at his Guinness with a flustered look. I smirk as I look between Kai and Sophie, who are both trying not to smile.
“That’s the strict one?” I ask, watching Professor Blake walk out the front door of the pub.
Rowan lets out a loud sigh. “Yeah.”
“Hmm,” is my only answer.
Kai’s eyes are twinkling as I look over at him, but none of us say anything else about Professor Blake as the night wears on.
When it’s time to say goodbye to Rowan for the night, we all walk him back to his dorm building. We’re not allowed inside, so we say goodbye at the door.
“I love you. I’ll see you after class tomorrow, okay?” I murmur, placing my hands on Rowan’s shoulders. He’s nearly as tall as me now—and with wavy light brown hair and blue eyes, he looks the part of my biological son, despite being adopted.
“Okay, Dad. Love you too.”
Sophie hugs him for several seconds, and he just chuckles softly as he pats her back. Kai is next, and as they hug, I can’t help but feel like I’ve never been happier. Seeing my son take after me, finding an interest in art and wanting to study art history at uni is somehow healing. Seeing him thrive here, in the place that Sophie and I left twenty years ago, is also wholly ironic yet vindicating. We walked so he could run.
At the end of the day, all you want for your children is for them to be happy. And as Rowan turns and walks toward the door of his dorm, he’s grinning and radiating joy. He’s happy here, that much is evident.
“So, shall we all go get absolutely smashed to drown out our feelings?” I ask.
Sophie laughs as she wraps an arm around my waist. Kai comes to my other side, and we walk off campus arm in arm.
“I think I’m too old to get ‘smashed’” Kai replies, turning his head and looking at me. “You remember what happened on my fiftieth.”
Sophie snorts. “Let’s not repeat that. I can’t handle a hangover that bad again.”
“One drink?” I ask, walking into the early night air of London in late September. Sometimes I miss it. On nights like tonight, when the air has the promising chill of autumn, and you can see your breath in front of you, I feel like I might’ve found a way to be happy here.
But without Kai in the picture… I can’t imagine we’d be as happy as we are now.
He balances us in ways I never expected—steady where I’m impulsive, grounding where Sophie is wild. Sophie softens him, teases out the warmth beneath his restraint, while he gives her the kind of unwavering support she’s never had before. And me? He sees parts of me even I’ve never understood, holding them up to the light with quiet certainty, like he’s always known I was meant to be his.
“One drink,” Kai says, dropping his arm and taking my hand instead. He laces his warm, calloused fingers with mine. “Just one.”
Sophie squeezes my waist and glances up at Kai with a knowing smile. “You’re both terrible at stopping at ‘just one.’”
Kai hums softly, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand as we stroll down the cobblestone path leading off campus. The faint sound of laughter and music filters through the crisp night air, the kind of noise that feels alive, brimming with possibility.
“Maybe tonight’s not about stopping,” I reply, looking between them. “Maybe it’s about celebrating.”
Sophie’s smile transforms into that mischievous smirk I know so well. “Celebrating what? The fact that I only cried three times in front of Rowan?”
I bark out a laugh, squeezing her closer. “Something like that.”
Kai chuckles low in his chest, and it rumbles through the cool evening air. “Let’s call it a toast to all of it. To this life we’ve built. To Rowan. To us.”
“To us,” Sophie echoes softly, leaning her head against my shoulder.
“To us,” I agree, warmth blooming in my chest as we walk together, arm in arm, toward the nearest pub. The city’s lights twinkle above us, and the three of us move as one, steady and certain.
Whatever comes next, I know this much: we’ll face it together.
And that’s enough.
Always enough.
Thank you so much for reading Malakai, Julian, and Sophie’s story!