Epilogue
Miles
The familiar winding road to my family’s house was dusted with soft snow, glittering under the pale winter sun.
The car was warm, filled with the quiet hum of Christmas music and the soft breathing of Julian in the passenger seat, his head tilted slightly against the window, watching the trees blur past.
God, I loved watching him like this.
Peaceful. Calm. Healing.
It had been two years since the press conference that changed everything. Two years since Julian had stood before the world, trembling but unbroken, and told the truth that set him free. Two years of him slowly reclaiming himself—step by step, breath by breath.
He still had his bad days. Nightmares that woke him up shaking. Moments when old words whispered at the edges of his mind, telling him he wasn’t enough. But they were not as often now. Softer. Fading.
What replaced them were things like this—Christmas trips home, quiet mornings tangled together, Julian’s soft laughter filling the house.
And I would never stop being grateful to watch him heal.
I would never stop loving him for it.
I glanced at him now, smiling. He caught me, eyes flicking toward me, the softest pink on his cheeks.
“What?” he murmured, lips tugging up.
“Nothing,” I said, grinning. “Just... staring at the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”
He rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide the smile that cracked wide across his face.
We pulled into the driveway. The dogs in the backseat stirred instantly—Sunny, of course, bouncing like she’d been shot out of a cannon.
“Easy, girl,” I chuckled as she pawed at the window.
I opened the door, and she shot out like a rocket, tail wagging wildly, barking as she sprinted straight toward the house.
And then came my second dog—Benny, the overexcited Australian Shepherd, tongue lolling and eyes sparkling with that constant chaotic energy he carried everywhere. He barked at nothing in particular and bolted after Sunny.
Behind him padded Julian’s dog—a quiet, graceful whippet named Ivy. Small, sleek, and gentle, she matched Julian perfectly. Careful, elegant... a little shy. She stayed close to him as he got out, her head brushing his thigh for comfort.
I smiled watching them. Julian bent, gently scratched her soft ears, and whispered something that made her tail wag before she trotted toward the house after the others.
Julian stood beside me then, tugging his scarf tighter around his neck. His eyes—so much brighter than they used to be—sparkled in the cold winter light.
And standing in the open doorway of the house, arms wide like always, was my mom. Caroline Bennett—warm, soft, a little taller than she used to be thanks to the thick knit socks she wore around the house.
“Finally!” she called, grinning ear to ear. “I thought you two were gonna keep me waiting forever!”
The dogs burst past her into the house in a flurry of wagging tails and clicking nails, Sunny nearly taking out the little side table in the foyer.
Julian laughed—really laughed—and the sound made my heart swell.
“Come here, sweetheart!” my mom beamed, her arms wide for Julian. “Get in here before you freeze!”
Julian glanced at me then hugged my mom grinning from ear to ear.
“She’s got cider on the stove,” I whispered. “And probably made your favorite cookies.”
His smile softened. He was home here. I could see it in his eyes.
We grabbed our bags and stepped inside, the warmth of the house wrapping around us like a blanket, the smell of cinnamon and pine and safety filling the air.
And I thought—just for a moment—this is how it’s supposed to be.
Julian healing.
Me beside him.
A home full of love and light.
And neither of us ever going back to the darkness again.
I barely got my boots off before I heard the familiar shriek. “Miles Bennett! Is that you dragging snow into Mom’s clean house again?”
I grinned just as my older sister Rachel came barreling out from the hallway, arms outstretched and grinning like a devil. She pulled me into a hug, squeezing until my ribs creaked.
“Jules!” she gasped the moment she saw him behind me, letting go of me like I was an afterthought. She swept Julian right into a hug, too tight and too warm like she’d waited all year for it.
Julian chuckled into her shoulder. “Hi, Rach.”
Right behind her was Emily, my younger sister, who grinned like she knew something no one else did. “About time you two got here. I was starting to think Miles was kidnapping you again, Julian.”
Julian gave a soft smile, glancing shyly at me from the corner of his eye. “He tried. I fought back.”
Emily cackled. “I knew you were the real muscle in this relationship.”
“Oh, definitely,” Julian said, playing along.
Rachel smirked at me over Julian’s shoulder. “Poor Miles. All that gym time and he still gets shown up.”
“Gee, thanks,” I muttered, throwing my gloves on the bench. “Love the family support.”
But something... flickered.
Julian smiled—but it was tight. His shoulders were a little higher than usual. His hands twisted in the sleeves of his sweater like he was keeping them busy.
Weird.
This wasn’t his first time here. Not even close.
My family had practically folded him into their lives the minute I brought him home the first time, like he belonged.
Normally by now he’d be teasing right along with them or sitting on the couch with Emily gossiping about something stupid they saw online.
But today... he was nervous.
I made a mental note, but before I could press, my mom’s voice cut in from the kitchen.
“Miles, girls, I need you to see the decorations out back! You’ll die when you see what your dad did with the lights on the fence. It’s ridiculous.”
I snorted. “I’m not responsible for Dad’s crimes against Christmas, you know.”
“Come on!” she called, waving a dish towel.
With a helpless shrug to Julian—who gave me that small, distracted smile again—I walked to the backyard Rachel and Emily on my heels.
“Do you remember last year’s inflatable Santa disaster?” Emily grinned, bumping her shoulder into mine.
“Don’t remind me. Took me two hours to untangle that thing from the gutter.”
Rachel snickered. “Dad’s defense was ‘festive ambition,’ remember?”
“Festive brain damage, more like,” I muttered, but I laughed with them as we stepped out the back door to the yard strung with what looked like at least three thousand twinkling lights.
“Oh God, he went overboard again,” I groaned. “He’s gonna blind the neighbors.”
My sisters laughed harder.
But my eyes flicked back to the house, toward the kitchen window where Julian’s shadow moved—his slim figure ducking slightly like he was whispering something to Mom.
And for a second, that weird feeling sparked again in my gut.
Nervous. Shy. Why?
It wasn’t like him here—not anymore. He was safe here. Home.
I made myself let it go, laughing along with my sisters as Rachel snapped a picture of the yard for blackmail later.
But the moment we stepped back into the kitchen, Julian was there—right by the counter, leaning casually but too stiff, smiling but too soft.
He slid close to my side like he always did, resting his hand on my arm. His body against mine calmed me instantly.
“Miss me?” I teased gently, brushing my fingers down his wrist.
His eyes met mine—and this time, the sparkle there was real. Nervous... but excited, too. Like he was holding onto some big secret. “Always,” he murmured, leaning into my side.
I smiled, wrapping an arm around his waist.
But that flicker of suspicion stayed warm in my chest.
What are you up to, pretty boy?
The living room felt warm and golden, lit by the tree in the corner and the crackling fire that Caroline insisted on lighting every Christmas Eve—whether it was snowing or not.
Benny had claimed his usual spot curled against the couch, his big head resting on my foot like the needy thing he was.
Ivy, sleek and graceful, was tucked beside Julian on the floor, her narrow eyes watching him like he hung the stars.
Caroline sat in her armchair, beaming as always, while Rachel and Emily lounged on the couch, fighting over a throw pillow like they were ten again.
“This is my pillow, Em. You literally have three at your end.”
“Yeah, but yours is fluffier.”
I rolled my eyes, grinning. Some things never changed.
Julian sat close to me on the couch, thigh pressed against mine, quiet but smiling, his eyes soft as he took in everything. He’d come such a long way since that first Christmas here—alone and closed off. Now he looked... peaceful. Almost.
But I didn’t miss the little tension in his shoulders. The way he kept twisting the hem of his sweater in his fingers. He was nervous. Still holding onto whatever surprise he had planned.
“All right,” Caroline clapped her hands, holding out a small wrapped box to Rachel. “Tradition time. One present each.”
Rachel groaned dramatically. “Just one? Again? Why do we do this to ourselves?”
“Because patience is a virtue, dear sister,” Emily teased.
Benny yawned loudly like he agreed.
One by one we opened gifts—small ones meant to tide us over until morning. Rachel got a necklace she’d been eyeing from Mom. Emily unwrapped a ridiculously soft scarf, immediately wrapping herself in it like a burrito.
“Miles, your turn,” Caroline said, holding out a small package for me.
I opened it to find a new leather camera strap, engraved with my initials. I smiled wide. “Mom, this is awesome. Thank you.”
She winked. “Thought you’d want something for all the pictures you take of these dogs.”
Julian chuckled beside me, and I couldn’t help but glance at him, my chest squeezing at how good he looked like this—relaxed, surrounded by family. Healing.
“Okay,” I said, picking up the small box I’d wrapped terribly—wrinkled edges and all—and handed it to him. “Your turn, pretty boy.”
He raised a brow, suspicious, but his smile grew. “What did you do?”
“Open it and see.”