TWENTY-ONE #2
"I tried to explain," he said, his voice cracking. "But you wouldn’t listen. You were determined to see me as the villain, Kieran. And to be honest, I let you. I was drowning those first few weeks after she passed. I screwed up, but you made it impossible to reach you. And then, as the months turned into weeks, it seemed too late. I didn’t think you’d believe me, and I had no proof. "
"Look, I know I can be stubborn—"
"Stubborn?" He let out a harsh breath. "That’s one word for it."
"Whatever," I snapped, finally turning to face him. "Why are you here, Dad?"
"To make it right." He stepped closer, his face lined with old exhaustion. "I loved your mother. Even when I found out what she had done, I didn’t let her down when she was dying. I was there for her until the end…"
The words felt like a physical blow. "I don’t understand why you still protected her? After she cheated on you? On us? Ruined this family. How could you let him into the house if you knew?"
"It’s not that simple when you have children with someone, Kieran.
" His voice finally broke, echoing across the quiet cemetery.
"Family roots run deep. I blamed myself for what she did. I was building the business, I left her alone, she felt like second best... she almost destroyed me, and I did leave her briefly. But then she got sick again. And I did what had to be done. But I was lost, trying to juggle her illness with work and our children. In a strange, sick way, Michael Astor’s presence helped us get through it. "
"So, you lied to us as well as yourself. You should have told me before you let Vanessa move in."
I knew he wasn’t really listening; he was dwelling on his past poor decisions. "I tried to ride out the storm, son," he whispered. "I thought we'd work it out. Then she died, and... I couldn't do it."
"Couldn't do what?"
"Tell you the truth," he said, looking at the headstone. "I couldn't destroy your memory of her: yours or Jessa's. So, I chose to let you hate me instead. I didn’t think you’d bear that grudge for quite so long, Jessa didn’t."
“Then you don’t know me as well as you thought you did.”
“I know you’re loyal to those you love, Kieran. I get that. You thought I had done your mother wrong. And now you know that wasn’t the case, but you have to ask yourself, where does your loyalty lie now?” I could hear the hope in his voice towards the end of those words.
Without answering, I stared at him, the anger in my chest twisting into something hollow. "If I hadn’t found Amelie’s diary, would you ever have told me?"
He looked away, staring into the trees. "I don’t know." The silence stretched between us, heavy and agonising. “I was trying to protect you.”
I felt drained.
"So where do we go from here?" I asked, my voice barely audible over the wind. "Do we need to talk about it? Rehash it all?"
"Personally? I think the details of a parent's relationship or lack of is something no child needs to carry," he said softly.
"And I know you're a man now, Kieran, but what good does digging up the dirt do? The past is buried right there." He nodded toward the grave. Amelie’s voice in my dream came back to me, ‘You’re digging in the wrong place.” That finally made sense to me.
How could I have been so fucking stupid?
My father was still speaking. "I was never untrue to your mother. Nessa and I... nothing happened while she was alive. I would never do that to my kids."
I looked from him to the cold stone, and back again. The weight of the lie was gone, replaced by a strange, fragile space between us.
"Can I be the one to tell Jessa?" I asked.
“Yes, of course." He finally reached out, his hand resting heavy and warm on my shoulder. "I never hated you, son. Even when you were yelling at me and wishing me dead."
"I know," I muttered, swallowing the lump in my throat. I looked out toward the cemetery gates, needing to get away from the suffocating grip of the graveside. "We still have that golf game we kept putting off."
My father let out a ragged, breathless laugh, the tension breaking just a fraction. "Sure. Why not? But you're buying the beer."
"Deal."
As we walked towards the car park, I knew there was still a significant amount of damage to repair, but it was a start.
AMELIE
Kieran stood in front of the pool, his feet planted wide on the patio. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, but the rigid knot in his shoulders betrayed everything he was trying to hide. I smoothed my sweaty palms down my jeans, stepped out of the kitchen, and crossed the patio toward him.
“Your dad find you at the cemetery?” I asked.
He turned his head to the side, his gaze cutting off just short of my eyes. His shoulders slumped. “Yeah.”
I stepped up beside him. Instead of forcing him to look at me, I stared down at the water. It looked glassy and perfectly still—a stark contrast to the splashing, neon-lit chaos of the house party the night we had fooled around in The Den.
“I’ve never seen him like that,” I murmured, the memory of his father's breakdown making my chest tight. “He was shaking, Kier. Are you okay?”
Kieran dragged a hand out of his pocket and dragged his fingers through his hair. “I’ll be fine. Just... trying to clear the noise out of my head. I can’t believe I was so blind.”
I stepped into his line of sight, placing a palm against his forearm until he finally looked at me. “Stop. Don’t do that to yourself. You saw what you needed to see because you were hurting. You all were. Seeing your mom like that at the end... it must have been horrendous.”
I wanted to wrap my arms around him, but Kieran hated pity. He usually flinched away from sympathy like taking a punch to the face.
“Yeah,” he breathed, staring blankly at the water. “But now I don’t even know how I’m supposed to feel about her.”
“The same way I feel about mine, I guess. She’s human. People mess up.” I glanced up into his sharp, perfect features, wishing I could physically wipe the exhaustion from his face.
His brow creased, his head dropping lower. “Are you saying you’ve decided to forgive your mother?”
My hand slipped from his arm. “I have to. Holding onto that shit... It’s only going to damage me.
Not her. Your mom got lonely, Kier. It happens.
Don't spend the rest of your life now hating a dead woman. She was a good mom to you. So, what if she were a terrible wife? That’s your dad's weight to carry. Not yours.”
“If she saw how I’ve treated him the last few years…”
“She’d hate it. But she’d get it,” I interrupted gently. “You fought for her because you thought she had been wronged. But it's over now. You don't have to punish Cameron anymore. Reset the scales. You have a dad who would literally go through hell for you. I should be jealous, really.”
Kieran looked down at himself, a bitter, self-deprecating laugh escaping his throat.
“Jealous of this?”
I smiled, stepping closer. “Of course. But I’m still thankful.”
“For what?”
“For what I have left. Adam, Sophie, Vanessa, Cameron. Maisy and Jessa.” I took a breath, my heart thumping against my ribs. “And... you. If you still want us to be close friends.”
He flinched, his face slightly confused, before he shook his head from side to side and stepped closer, his chest brushing against mine.
“Close friends,” he repeated, his face slightly shocked.
“Kier—” I started, but the breath caught in my throat.
Kieran reached out, closing his hands over mine, and tugged until I tumbled against his chest. His voice was a rough whisper against my hair. “I want more than that, Amelie. So much more.”
“You do?”
He cupped my face, his expression so tender that my heart flipped. “You still don’t get it, do you? I love you, Amelie.”
“You love me?”
“Yes. I am completely in love with you, and I have been for a long time,” he confessed.
My heart sang. “Say that again,” I whispered, a tear slipping down my cheek.
“I love you, my little stray.”
A wave of overwhelming emotion rushed through me. I was loved. “I don’t know what to say. You know I love you too, right?” I stammered.
“Now I do.” Kieran leaned his forehead against mine.
“I’ve been such an arrogant fool for years, hiding from the truth.
Then you came along. You looked so broken and fragile, wrapped up in a perfect exterior.
But your strength completely unmanned me, Amelie.
You made me realise how fucking lucky I was.
At first, I hated that your presence made me question myself.
And when I finally did, I hated the answers I found.
You’re all heart. Life has thrown so much garbage at you, and you’ve risen above it all.
I’m so ashamed of how I treated you. If you’ll be mine, I promise I will spend every day making it up to you. ”
“You want me to be yours?”
“Yes. Be my girlfriend. Stand by my side, and together we’ll take on the world.”
My heart soared as I threw my arms around him.
I had a boyfriend. He wasn’t perfect by any means, but he was mine.
Over the last few months, I had discovered a strength inside myself I never knew existed, and the Rook family had been the ones to draw it out.
They had made me feel safe. They had made me feel wanted.
Kieran Rook—the boy who had once been my fiercest tormentor—was now my saviour. Together, I knew we could pick up any shattered pieces of our pasts. I was officially dating the King of Northridge Academy. The only question left was whether the rest of the school would ever accept me as their Queen.
Wrapping my arms tightly around his neck, I kissed him back with everything I had. Let them stare, and let them whisper. High school wasn’t forever. I just had to survive it—and with the King at my side, the throne was already mine.