55. Genevieve
Chapter fifty-five
Genevieve
Ihadn’t expected to feel… welcome after the tension from earlier.
But Brielle had insisted we stay.
So as a result, Reid and I spent the afternoon drifting through the estate like we belonged there, helping Delilah roll out the last of the cookie dough, handing sprinkles to the toddlers as they made an absolute mess of the kitchen island, laughing quietly as they tackled the well-known Uncle Santa Blaine, who had two shots of tequila before changing into a Santa hat, red pants and boots.
The children loved him, Killian asked him multiple times to put a shirt on, and his wife Maia stayed attached to his hip, supplying…
body glitter and sporting a red nose? It was a rather peculiar sight, one Brielle had to explain was a tradition amongst the family. But I loved every chaotic minute of it.
For a few hours, I let myself pretend we belonged.
Reid stayed close, his hand brushing my back when the kitchen got crowded, his shoulder a warm anchor against mine whenever the room felt too full.
It had been peaceful.
It had almost been easy coming back. I knew there was still a lot unsaid, still things Reid, Brielle and I had to discuss, but in this moment… everything felt okay, almost right. But my heart ached at the one thing, the one person who was missing from all of this.
A heavy, deliberate knock cut straight through the hum of conversation happening down the hall in the living room.
I glanced over from my spot in the kitchen to see Reginald opening the door, assisting a young girl into the home, her mother hugging Reginald as she followed suit.
Brielle stood immediately from the corner of my eye, and I furrowed my brows as she walked over hastily, pulling her cardigan taut around herself.
Then he appeared, closing the door behind him, dusting off his coat filled with flurries as he pulled off his gloves.
My heart stuttered in my chest.
Eugene.
He was so tall. It was the first thing I noticed. Shoulders broad as he filled the entirety of the doorway. Same soft eyes, but his jaw was now sharp, facial features showing off the tough exterior he’d built over the years.
He was no longer the little boy who ran to me every chance he got, who tucked his head into my neck when he was sleepy or reached for my hand in the dark.
But in his sharp but soft eyes… I could still see my son.
I didn’t think he’d come, didn’t think he’d want to see me or Reid. But then… he did. And for one treacherous, stupid moment I let myself think maybe Brielle had told him.
But as I watched her walk to him quickly, diverting his attention with a hug, a knot formed in the pit of my stomach.
“Eugene…” she began, “so glad you could make it.”
He gave a gentle smile. “You don’t exactly give me much of a choice with these things.”
He shrugged off his coat, handing it to Reginald, who was now making his way to the coat area. Then, his expression shifted, sharpened almost.
“Saw an extra car in the roundabout,” he muttered, subtle and attentive. From the moment he stepped in, his eyes had already scanned the room. He was always observing. It could’ve been a habit, something he picked up from the military.
Brielle’s fingers twisted together.
My stomach knotted even tighter as I could feel Reid’s presence behind me. That was when I knew. He hadn’t known we were here.
“We… uh… have a few visitors.”
Eugene nodded slowly, confusion growing as he watched his sister fidget.
“Who else did you invite?” he asked.
Brielle’s throat bobbed. His eyes shifted over to Killian, who had approached.
She stared up at Eugene, voice barely audible. “Mom is here.”
Eugene’s eyebrows furrowed, his eyes narrowing as he glanced between the two of them.
I could feel the world going silent.
The cookies, the laughter, the decorations, the warmth in just the next room over, all of it evaporated in an instant.
I couldn’t breathe. He didn’t move, but his jaw clenched so tightly I saw the muscle tick from across the room.
“…You didn’t think to tell me that before I showed?”
Brielle’s arms crossed as she shook her head. “If I would have told you, you would have never come.”
“Of course I wouldn’t have come,” he snapped, voice low, bitter in a way that made my eyes burn. “I told you already. I don’t want that woman in my life.”
The words sliced through me. I stayed still. Tried not to react or crumble as Reid stood beside me.
Brielle pushed harder: “But you haven’t even given her a chance to—”
“I don’t need to give her a chance, Brielle,” he cut her off. “I don’t need her in my fucking life. Not then and not now. Tell Melanie and Juliet we’re leaving.”
“You just got here.” Brielle’s voice got louder. “You can’t leave yet.”
“Well, this isn’t your decision to make.”
“Eugene—” Killian attempted to intervene.
“No,” Brielle cut in. “Melanie is playing with the kids and Juliet is having a good time. They’re happy. You’re not isolating them just because you’re avoiding your feelings—”
“They are my family, Brielle,” he bit out.
“We’re your family too, Eugene!” she yelled, voice splintering.
“Family?” he echoed, bitter laughter leaving him in a short burst. “You think her being here is going to make us whole again? You think this—” he gestured vaguely around the decorated foyer ”—fixes what happened to us?”
Brielle flinched, shoulders curling slightly at the jab as Killian moved closer, placing a hand at the center of her back. But she stood straight once again.
“No. This doesn’t fix it,” she shot back. “But you’re not the only one who lived through it. You’re not the only one who was scared and alone, who felt like the only people in their lives that mattered had abandoned them.”
Eugene’s nostrils flared, his voice dropped. “You have people, Brielle…”
“But I didn’t have you,” she seethed. “And that mattered more than any of it. When you left me I had no one. When you disappeared to the military, you. Left. Me.”
His face remained stoic. “I’m here now, aren’t I? And look at you now. You have your perfect life. Your perfect family. Your perfect children. Your perfect Christmas with the mother you’ve always wanted in your life. You don’t need me anymore, Brielle.”
“That’s not fair,” she said, tears collecting again.
“It’s the truth.”
“You know how hard I try to keep you close. How hard I tried to make you want to be part of us again. But even when you came back… even when you’re right in front of me. I still feel like you’re gone.”
Something flickered across his face, pain, guilt, something he didn’t want anyone to see, but he buried it instantly beneath a scowl. “Well then maybe I should just leave.”
“Well maybe you should!”
“Brielle, sweetheart—” Killian tried, holding her back by the waist as she surged forward.
Eugene’s voice cut through her sob. “I didn’t ask for you to try to fix me, Brielle. I didn’t ask for any of this shit.”
“Then you can leave. If you can’t even appreciate everything I’ve done, everything I’ve tried to do, then you don’t need to be a part of this anymore.”
“That’s all I’ve fucking asked for from the start.” His words echoed, heart wrenching and final.
Brielle lunged again. Killian wrapped both arms around her this time, dragging her back against his chest as she kicked at the air like she’d tear her brother apart if she reached him.
“Eugene—” Killian warned, voice dropping into something dangerous.
“Let me go!” Brielle seethed, still squirming in Killian’s hold.
“Enough.”
Reid’s voice sliced through the foyer.
His voice carried the weight of a father who never got a chance to be one. A few heads turned from the living room.
Eugene’s jaw flexed, nostrils flaring as he locked eyes on Reid approaching. They sized one another up, but Reid didn’t back down.
“This is a family matter,” he snapped at Reid. “Stay out of it.”
“Exactly why you need to calm down,” Reid retorted. “Before you say something you regret.”
“He’s going to regret me killing him!” Brielle seethed.
Reid’s eyes landed on her. “Brielle, stop.”
She glanced over to him for a split second, defiance laced in her eyes, her chest rising and falling before she finally calmed in Killian’s hold.
My eyes glanced back over to Eugene, and in that moment, my heart sank to the ground. Because his gaze had already shifted, to me.
There was a ghost of recognition, longing or maybe hatred in his eyes.
For a second, he was three years old again, reaching for me in the kitchen, tugging on me gently when he needed my attention…
and for a second… I was his mom again, that twenty-something-year-old who was trying so hard to make the best choices for me, for us, but still ended up choosing something that would hurt us.
The longer he looked, the harder his gaze turned… until there was nothing left of my little boy in it.
He tore his eyes away, his mouth twisting in disgust. “Yeah,” he muttered. “I’m done.”
“Eugene, wait—”
I finally moved, voice barely a whisper, but he recoiled like he’d been burned by the sound of me. Before I could get any closer, he grabbed the doorknob, and yanked it open.
Cold air rushed in briefly as he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.