Epilogue Claire
I used to think love would feel like a decision. Something steady and logical that I could control if I just tried hard enough. I thought it would be quiet and comfortable. Like wrapping yourself up in a blanket at the end of a long day.
I was wrong.
Love isn't quiet.
It's loud and warm and a little chaotic, and sometimes it smells like garlic and butter and something frying on the stove while five people talk over each other in two languages and no one actually listens but somehow everyone understands anyway.
Love feels like this.
"Claire, mija, sit," Abuela insists the second I step into the house, already waving a wooden spoon at me like it's a command rather than a suggestion. "You do not come home and stand there like a guest. It's embarrassing for me."
"I literally just walked in," I laugh, letting her pull me further inside anyway.
"That is no excuse."
I laugh.
Julian's hand settles at the small of my back as he follows me in, steady and warm, his presence so familiar now that I don't even think about it. I just lean into it automatically, like my body already knows where it belongs.
"Hi, Abuela," he says, all easy charm and soft respect.
She looks at him, narrows her eyes and hums like she's evaluating him, even now.
"You're late," she decides.
"We're three minutes late because we had to stay after at the school," he replies carefully.
"Late."
"Yes, ma'am."
She nods once, satisfied, and turns back to the stove like she didn't just win that entire interaction.
I grin.
He exhales quietly behind me.
"Survived," I whisper.
"Barely," he mutters.
Rafael is at the table already, something sports related playing on the TV that no one is actually watching while Isabella moves between the kitchen and dining room with the kind of effortless rhythm that makes it look easy even though I know it isn't.
Anna and Kade are arguing softly near the counter, which really just means Anna is right and Kade is pretending he isn't immediately folding.
"You said you would make the dessert," Anna is saying, arms crossed.
"I did bring dessert," Kade replies, gesturing toward the counter.
"That's not dessert."
"It's cake."
"It's protein cake, Kade."
"I'm working on my gains. It still counts as cake."
"It absolutely does not count as cake."
I step closer, peeking at it.
"...I mean," I say carefully, "it does look a little... responsible." I wrinkle my nose.
Anna turns to me immediately. "Thank you."
Kade looks personally betrayed. "Claire."
"I'll never be on your side," I say without hesitation.
He gasps in outrage.
Julian leans down slightly beside me. "I would've made real dessert," he murmurs.
"I know you would've."
He pauses.
"...do you want me to go get real dessert?"
I laugh, nudging him lightly. "No. Stay."
He doesn't hesitate.
"Okay."
As soon as we sit down, it's chaos.
Plates passed back and forth, overlapping conversations, Abuela interrupting anyone she feels is speaking incorrectly or too slowly, Rafael offering commentary that no one asked for, and Isabella somehow keeping everything moving without ever raising her voice.
At one point, Isabella glances at me, her expression warm but very knowing.
"Claire," she says, "you have not taken a breath in at least three minutes. Slow down, Mija."
"I have," I argue immediately. "I took one right before I told Kade his cake was a filthy crime."
"It is not a crime," Kade cuts in.
"It's a misdemeanor at minimum," I shoot back.
Anna snorts. "I'm upgrading it to a felony."
"Thank you," I say, pointing at her. "She has standards."
Julian's hand tightens slightly around my leg under the table, and when I glance at him, he's already looking at me like this entire exchange is his favorite thing that's ever happened.
"You're enjoying this," I accuse.
"I am," he admits easily. "A lot."
"Traitor."
"I'm on your side."
"You're not helping me."
"I don't think you need help."
Rafael shakes his head, but he's smiling. "She definitely does not need help."
"You guys are right. I absolutely do not," I agree, lifting my chin. "I'm thriving."
Abuela hums, watching me for a moment before nodding decisively. "Yes," she says. "This one is loud, but she fits in with the rest of this crew."
Something in my chest settles at that, warm and easy, not sharp or overwhelming, just... right.
"I've been saying that," Julian murmurs under his breath.
I nudge him with my shoulder. "You've been saying a lot of things."
I roll my eyes, but I'm smiling.
At some point, Julian's hand finds mine under the table. His thumb brushes once against my skin, absent and familiar, like it's something he's done a thousand times. I lace our fingers together without looking at him.
Later, we drift into the living room the way we always do, conversations carrying over, plates abandoned to soak, the night stretching without anyone needing to say it out loud.
I end up tucked into the corner of the couch, half under a blanket that Abuela insisted I use even though I said I wasn't cold, Julian pulled in close beside me like he forgot there's space anywhere else.
Or maybe he just doesn't care.
Kade and Rafael are deep into some debate that has escalated well beyond what it needs to be, Anna is correcting both of them, and Isabella is laughing quietly like she's heard this exact conversation a hundred times before.
Abuela glances at me.
Then at Julian.
Then back at me.
"Good," she says.
I blink. "Good what?"
She gestures vaguely between us. "This."
Julian straightens slightly beside me.
I feel his excitement immediately.
"I agree," Isabella says from across the room, her voice soft but certain.
Anna looks over, her expression warm and knowing. "Yeah. Me too."
Kade sighs dramatically. "I feel like I'm being excluded from something important."
"You are," Anna tells him.
He scoffs.
Julian shifts beside me, his arm sliding more securely around my shoulders as he presses a quiet kiss to my temple, soft enough that it would be easy to miss if I wasn't paying attention.
"I love you," he murmurs.
I turn my head slightly, smiling into the space between us. "I love you too."
I used to think love was something you proved. Something you had to earn and protect and constantly question just to make sure it was still there.
Now I know better.
Love looks like being pulled into a kitchen and told to sit, being argued with over dessert, hands finding each other under the table without needing a reason. Like a family that doesn't ask you to be less and a man who learned, the hard way, how to hold all of you without ever letting go.
Now more than ever, I know the meaning of love. And I'm happy fate and the bond has guided all of us to this moment.
Where we're together and we always will be.