28. Alex Sebring
Chapter 28
Alex Sebring
Anticipation churns beneath my nerves as we drive toward the airport. This isn’t just another trip to Samoa—it’s a leap, a test of sorts. Magnolia is about to meet my entire extended family, the whole loud, close-knit, wonderfully chaotic clan. And while I hope she’ll embrace it, there’s no denying the significance of the moment.
My grandparents—Tinā’s parents—are the heart of our family, and they live a life worlds apart from the one Magnolia knows. While my father and I have built lives surrounded by luxury and success, my grandparents have stayed true to their roots, living in a traditional Samoan home. It’s a life built on love, tradition, and simplicity. It’s beautiful, but it’s not for everyone.
Celeste wouldn’t have lasted five minutes there. She’d have waved off their home as quaint and unsuitable, opting instead for a suite in Apia, complete with air conditioning, a mini-bar, and Wi-Fi. She wouldn’t have understood the quiet strength in my grandparents’ way of life—the pride, the history, the connection. To her, it would’ve been nothing more than an inconvenience.
But Magnolia isn’t Celeste. Magnolia is… Magnolia. Genuine, adaptable, and far from pretentious. She grew up in her own kind of chaos, and that’s given her a depth most people never find. She’s the kind of woman who can appreciate what really matters—not the facade, but the heart of things.
As I glance at her beside me, a small smile playing on her lips as she watches the scenery rush by, my confidence in her swells. I know she’ll respect my family’s world, see its value, its beauty. She’ll understand.
Still, the nerves persist. Because this isn’t just about her meeting my family. It’s about me too. I’ve never brought anyone to Samoa, never shared this part of my life with a woman before. It’s sacred to me and letting her in feels like laying my soul bare.
But with Magnolia, it feels right. It feels like the first step toward something real. Something that, even with the clock ticking on her time here, I can’t let slip away.
As the small airport comes into view, I take a deep breath, anticipation tightening in my chest. Magnolia is about to step into my world—not the polished, public version, but the sacred, unvarnished parts I keep guarded. And yet, I know she’ll meet it all with that quiet strength and unshakable grace that’s uniquely hers.
We pull up to the terminal, and before I can even grab the first bag, Magnolia is swept into the Sebring-Malietoa fold. My sisters descend with their usual whirlwind energy, flanking her with bright smiles and rapid-fire chatter. Their warmth is electric, making it impossible for her to feel anything but welcome.
They weren’t like this with Celeste. Not even close.
They know how important Magnolia is to me, and they’re treating her accordingly, welcoming her with the kind of warmth and care they reserve for someone who truly matters.
Tinā, ever the heart of the family, takes the lead with a hug that radiates love and acceptance. “Magnolia, we’ve been so looking forward to this.”
Leilani and Sefina aren’t far behind, their laughter bubbling as they pepper Magnolia with questions and stories.
Leilani’s grin is downright devilish as she fixes her gaze on me while addressing Magnolia. “Alex has been talking about you nonstop. Magnolia this… Magnolia that.” She draws out the words with exaggerated drama, clearly relishing my discomfort. “It’s about time we finally got to meet you.”
Magnolia’s laughter is light, cutting through my embarrassment. “Well, I must’ve made quite the impression if Alex is out here singing my praises. I’ll take it as a compliment.” She throws me a teasing glance that sends a twist of warmth straight through me.
Leilani cackles, delighted to stir the pot. “Oh, Magnolia, it’s more than compliments. My brother’s practically writing poetry about you.”
“Keep it up, Lei, and I’ll tell everyone about your One Direction fan-fiction phase.” I narrow my eyes in a half-hearted attempt at intimidation.
Leilani flips me off with both hands. “I think you just did, loser. Thanks a lot.”
Magnolia tilts her head, her grin widening with playful curiosity. “Wait, wait. Back up. I need to know more about this poetry.”
Leilani forms a heart with her hands, mimicking a dramatic heartbeat as her eyes gleam with mischief. “Alex is in looooove,” she declares, dragging out the word with exaggerated flair.
I groan, dragging a hand down my face. “Leilani, I swear?—”
Leilani doubles over with laughter, completely unbothered by my weak threat.
Magnolia meets my gaze, her eyes sparkling with amusement, and for a moment, the world shrinks to the two of us.
I sigh, shaking my head, a reluctant smile breaking through. I should be mad at Leilani, but I can’t bring myself to care. Not when I’m this damn happy.
Behind me, a low whistle catches my attention. I turn to see Niko grinning, his brows raised. “She’s a real stunner, mate,” he says, nodding toward Magnolia.
Elias chuckles, clapping me on the back. “If she weren’t with you, I’d be trying my luck.”
“As if,” Asa cuts in with a smirk, crossing his arms. “She’s way out of your league, Eli. And let’s be honest, Alex—she’s more down-to-earth than anyone you’ve brought around before. Not to mention, easy on the eyes.” His gaze sharpens as he looks at me, clearly angling for a reaction.
I shake my head, laughing despite myself. “You three done with the commentary?”
Asa leans in, his grin widening. “You’ve never brought anyone to Samoa before. That says a lot, doesn’t it?”
They exchange knowing glances, their smirks threatening to grow. I sigh, holding up a hand. “Fine, here’s the deal.” I glance over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of Magnolia laughing with Tinā and my sisters, blending into the chaos. “She’s genuine—no act, no pretense. She actually cares about this part of my life, and more importantly, she respects it.”
Elias slaps my shoulder again, his grin turning approving. “Good on you, Alex. Sounds like she’s got more than just looks—sounds like she’s got her priorities straight too.”
I nod, my gaze drawn back to Magnolia. Across the terminal, she meets my eyes, her smile softening into something quieter, something that feels like it’s just for me. A slow grin spreads across my face as I turn back to my brothers. “She’s the real deal.”
Niko leans in, his smirk unrelenting. “Good thing too because she’ll need all that ‘real’ to survive this family.”
The flight crew announces it’s time to board, and one by one, we step onto the private chartered plane. Magnolia stays close as we settle into our seats. With six hours of flight time ahead, I slide my arm around her, drawing her closer.
The hum of the engines grows louder, a persistent backdrop to the quiet buzz of my family getting settled. I glance up to see my siblings seated up front, far enough away to give us a little privacy.
“Shame my whole family’s on board.” I lean closer to her ear. “Because, believe me, I’d love to join the mile-high club with you right about now.”
Magnolia arches a brow, a playful glint lighting her eyes. “Would that be a first for you?”
“It would be. Never thought about it much—until now. And what about you? Am I sitting next to a mile-high member?”
Her laughter rings out, soft and genuine, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “Not even close.”
The unexpected sweetness of the moment surprises me. I squeeze her hand, her fingers lacing with mine, and the simple warmth of her touch steadies me as the plane begins to taxi down the runway.
As the hum of the engines settles into a steady rhythm, I glance at Magnolia. She leans comfortably against me, her presence calming me in a way I’ve never known, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world has disappeared.
Now feels as good a time as any to tell her what I must. “Magnolia, there’s something important I need to explain before we get there.”
She tilts her head, her attention fully on me. “What is it?”
“In my family, fa’aaloalo means everything. It’s more than a word—it’s a way of life. It’s about showing respect to our elders and honoring our culture.” I pause, my eyes holding hers, wanting her to understand the importance of what I’m saying. “That means while we’re staying at my grandparents’ house, we won’t be sharing a bed. It’s considered disrespectful unless we’re married.”
Her gaze doesn’t waver, and after a beat, her expression softens, a small smile curving her lips. “I understand. I wouldn’t want to do anything to go against your family’s values. It’s important to me that they feel respected.”
“Thank you for understanding. That means a lot to me.” Relief washes over me, and I press a kiss to her forehead. “I hope you got enough of me last night to tide you over for a while.”
Her laughter breaks the quiet, the sound light and teasing, carrying that irresistible spark she always has. “I hope you got enough of me ,” she fires back, her eyes glinting with playful defiance.
I lean in, my words a rough whisper. “I’ll never get enough of you.”
After six hours in the air, the plane touches down, and we step into the warm, fragrant embrace of Samoa. The sunlight here feels alive—richer, softer, and golden as it spills over the swaying palms and glistening ocean. The air carries the scent of salt and flowers, a blend that always feels like home.
Magnolia steps out beside me, her eyes wide with wonder as she takes it all in. The way her gaze roams over the vivid greens of the palm trees, the impossibly blue sky, and the rolling hills makes me see it all anew. Her awe stirs something deep inside me—pride, knowing I get to share this part of my life with her.
Laughter and voices rise as a group of my cousins comes rushing toward us. Their greetings in Samoan ring out like music, arms wide open as they envelop us in their embrace. It’s a chaotic, joyful welcome, one that’s impossible not to smile at.
Masina, one of my younger cousins, is holding a vibrant red hibiscus flower. She grins up at Magnolia with wide, bright eyes before tucking it above her left ear. “Welcome to Samoa, Magnolia. I’m Masina. It’s good to meet you.”
Magnolia touches the flower lightly, her smile warm and genuine as she meets Masina’s gaze. “Thank you. It’s beautiful. And it’s so lovely to meet you as well.”
Emotion swells in my chest as I take her in—standing here with the hibiscus tucked behind her ear, her smile soft and radiant, the island sun casting a golden glow over her face. She’s breathtaking, more than I ever dared to hope for. This moment etches itself into me, one I know I’ll carry with me forever.
We pull up to my grandparents’ home, and a mix of excitement and nerves churns in my chest. Magnolia’s hand tightens around mine as we step out, her wide eyes taking in the scene before her—the simple beauty of their home framed by swaying palms and vibrant flowers.
On the porch, my grandparents wait with bright smiles, their warmth radiating even before a word is spoken. “Aleki!” Nana calls, her voice strong despite her years, pulling me into a hug that feels like home.
When she turns to Magnolia, her smile softens, and I can see the tension in Magnolia’s shoulders ease a little. Nana takes her hands gently, speaking first in Samoan before switching to English. “We are so happy you’re here. Malie has been telling us all about you, and now I see why.”
“Magnolia, this is my grandfather, Tui.”
Tui smiles warmly. “Welcome, Magnolia. We’re glad you’ve come.”
“Thank you so much for having me. It’s truly an honor to be here and meet your family.”
Nana nods, her approval clear as she squeezes Magnolia’s hands and then pulls her into a brief but affectionate hug.
Family arrives in waves, filling the yard with laughter and warm embraces. Names and faces blur as cousins, aunts, uncles, and neighbors pull me into their orbit. Even I feel a bit overwhelmed, but when I look for Magnolia, I find her blending in smoothly. She’s laughing, chatting, and holding her own like she’s been part of this world forever.
Her gaze catches mine from across the crowd, her smile soft and radiant. It stirs something deep in me—pride, maybe, or awe. She’s not just fitting in; she’s thriving.
When we sit for the umukai, Magnolia takes it all in with quiet curiosity. I lean closer, pointing out the dishes as they’re passed. “Try the palusami.”
I watch as she takes a bite. Her face lights up, and she glances at me with genuine appreciation. “Wow.”
“Told you,” I say, grinning. And for a moment, everything feels exactly as it should.
“Alex, this is incredible.” Her eyes are bright with wonder. “Being here with you, seeing this side of your life… it’s beautiful. I can tell how much your family means to you. They’re such a big part of who you are.”
Her words are unexpected. For a moment, I glance around at the faces I’ve known my whole life, at the laughter and stories flowing between generations. This is home—the part of me that remains constant no matter where I go.
The steady rhythm of drums pulses through the air, drawing everyone toward the clearing for the Siva Samoa. My cousins and sisters form a semi-circle, their bodies moving in harmony with the beat. Torchlight casts flickering shadows across their faces as they sway and step, their movements fluid and storytelling in every gesture.
Beside me, Magnolia is spellbound. Her eyes track each motion, wide with awe, her lips slightly parted as if she doesn’t want to miss a single moment. Without thinking, I glance at her profile, the firelight catching the edges of her features. She doesn’t just watch—she absorbs it, her quiet intensity making the pride swelling in my chest almost too much to contain.
She reaches for my hand, her fingers curling around mine without a word. It’s a simple gesture, but it settles something deep inside me—seeing her embrace my world like it’s becoming hers too.
The tempo builds, and my sister Leilani steps forward, breaking the circle with a playful smile. She motions to Magnolia, her grin wide and welcoming. “Come, Magnolia! Dance with us.”
Magnolia’s eyes dart to mine, her hesitation clear, but I nod, grinning. “Go on. You’ll love it.”
With a small laugh, she stands, taking Leilani’s outstretched hand. My sister begins showing her the basic steps, and while Magnolia starts out tentative, she quickly picks up the rhythm. Her movements become looser, her smile brighter as she sways to the beat, the torchlight highlighting her every graceful turn.
Unable to resist, I move to her side, stepping behind her and resting my hands lightly on her waist. “Just relax,” I say against her ear. “Feel the music—it’ll guide you.”
She glances back at me, her eyes sparkling with laughter. “Easier said than done.”
Within moments, she’s moving gracefully, her body aligning with mine, every sway and turn perfectly in time. The warmth of her beneath my hands, the rhythm of the drums, and the electric charge between us make the moment feel surreal.
The drums fall silent, and for a moment, the night holds still before my family erupts in cheers and laughter. My mother stands nearby, smiling proudly as she watches Magnolia, who fits, blending into the celebration.
Magnolia turns to me, her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkling. And I know this moment is one we’ll both hold on to—something bigger than just tonight.
“There’s one more dance. The Siva Afi. It’s about strength, courage, and honoring tradition. This one’s high-energy—a bit more intense.”
I glance toward the group of cousins and brothers preparing nearby and turn back to her with a grin. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Her brows lift, her smile growing playful. “Should I be nervous?”
“Not at all.” I give her a wink before stepping away.
I join the others, slipping into the traditional costume—a lavalava skirt adorned with intricate Samoan patterns and a band tied across my chest. My arms are bare, showcasing the warrior tattoos that weave over my skin and the faint burn scar on my bicep—a mark from when I was learning the Siva Afi. The crowd stirs as we step into the circle of firelight, the murmurs growing louder with anticipation.
As the dance begins, the flames leap to life, the knives glowing as they slice through the air. The drums thunder in a fierce, steady rhythm, their vibrations pulsing through the night. Magnolia’s eyes widen, her expression shifting to awe as I twirl the flaming blade, tossing it high and catching it with fluid precision. The heat radiates against my skin, every movement deliberate and controlled.
I spin the fire in tight, sharp arcs, sweeping it low to the ground before launching it skyward again. The flames hiss and crackle, illuminating the captivated faces of the crowd. My body moves in perfect sync with the pounding rhythm, each step and turn honoring the legacy of those who came before me.
The firelight casts long shadows across the sand, their shapes rippling and shifting with each movement. Sweat glistens on my skin, the heat and intensity of the performance demanding everything from me. But I find her face in the crowd—Magnolia, her eyes locked on me, her hands pressed to her chest as if she’s holding her breath.
The flames feel alive in my hands, their power coursing through me like a heartbeat, but her gaze is what steadies me. Each toss, each spin, each precise step is for her as much as it’s for the tradition that flows through my veins. As the drums reach their crescendo, I throw the blade high one last time, the fire tracing a brilliant arc against the night sky before I catch it with a final, powerful flourish.
My family erupts into cheers, their voices filling the air as the drums fade. My chest heaves as I step out of the firelight, the echoes of the dance still thrumming through me. Magnolia rises, her eyes shining, her smile radiant, and in that moment, nothing else exists but her.
When the final flame dies out, I make my way back to her. She’s staring at me, equal parts awe and disbelief. I lift my arm, showing her the faint burn scar on my bicep. “This is where I earned this. Fire knife dancing isn’t forgiving when you’re learning.”
Her smirk grows as she looks me up and down. “Well, that was hot. And so is what you’re wearing.”
I raise an eyebrow, stepping closer. “How hot?”
She laughs, shaking her head. “Nice try. But I’m not starting something we can’t finish—not at your grandparents’ house, practicing… what’s the word again? Fa…”
“Fa’aaloalo.” The word rolls smoothly off my tongue.
Her playful smile widens. “Right. Fa’aaloalo—which means no fooling around.”
I chuckle, pulling her close but keeping enough distance to be respectful. “It doesn’t mean no fooling around at all. It means no fooling around under their roof.”
“Oh, okay, Mr. Technicality.” Magnolia’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “And here I thought my aerial silk dancing was edgy. But no, you had to upstage me with flaming knives.”
I shrug, grinning. “To be fair, the nifo’oti—the blade—is wrapped. It’s mostly for show. Aerial silks , though—what’s that?”
Her face lights up as she explains, her enthusiasm captivating. “It’s where you climb long fabric suspended from the ceiling and use it to perform acrobatics—twists, poses, shapes. It’s graceful, but it takes a lot of strength and control.”
The image of her suspended midair, twisting through silks, holds me captive. “You’re telling me I’ve been missing out on you defying gravity all this time? Now this, I have to see.”
She laughs softly. “It requires a proper setup—a studio, silks, rigging. I can’t just do it anywhere.”
I lean in with a mischievous grin. “I’ll build you a studio.”
Her brow arches, amusement playing at her lips. “Right. And you’ll manage that in three weeks?”
The teasing fades as her words hang in the air, and our smiles falter. Three weeks. The dread of it settles between us, unspoken but heavy.
“No, I suppose not,” I say quietly, reaching for her hand, intertwining our fingers. “But I would like to make every second count.”
Her eyes search mine, her expression softening into something tender. “Every second,” she whispers.
And as the firelight dances around us, casting warm shadows on her face, the night stretches endlessly above. In this moment, I’m certain of one thing: I’ll make every moment with her matter, no matter how fleeting our time may be.