Page 34

The lights on the stage burn into me as my fingers dance across the keys and my body rocks along with the song I composed for my showcase piece, titled “The Dream.”

It’s haunting and dark, but gradually, lighter and more melodic notes trickle into the score. The dynamic starts to shift and change as the brighter music begins to take over, pushing the darkness into the shadows. The audience listens intently, completely silent as I pour myself into my performance.

This is the first time I’ve ever played in front of a crowd, free to show my talent and love for the piano, and it’s so incredibly freeing.

As I get lost in the dance of the keys, my mind drifts away.

So much has changed in the last couple of months. Malik’s uncle was arrested for accepting a bribe, conspiracy to cover up a murder, among a rap sheet that was pages long.

I’ve seen the peace settle into Malik’s soul recently—that fight or flight he was constantly in before finally fading away.

He doesn’t have to live on edge anymore or fear any manipulation from his uncle and my dad. He can just be himself however he chooses.

There’s still one thing holding us back from closing that chapter for good. His uncle still won’t reveal where Micah’s urn is, but I refuse to let him hold that over him. I might have made a few calls and hired a couple of people to track them down. And today, I’ll finally get to cash in on the results.

In the aftermath of my dad’s arrest, my family was plastered all over the news, torn to shreds for his corruption. But my aunts stayed strong through all of it, not blinking an eye at the swarm of reporters that somehow always found us.

My dad won’t ever see the light of day again, not after he’s found guilty for all of his crimes. Micah was the tip of the iceberg of his secrets.

Bribery, embezzlement, fraud, and murder are just the beginning of what he’s facing. I haven’t visited him, and I’m not sure that I ever will. It’s complicated … obviously.

Even with the ruins he left us in, he also left behind hundreds of properties, businesses, and investments. My aunts had chosen to leave that world when they took me in, but they didn’t hesitate to step right in to take everything over. They divided the assets, splitting the responsibility between the three of them. Anyone on the outside would assume they were always proud and strong businesswomen.

My aunts are still living in Avandale, in the same home they’ve always had. They’re still the same people they were before the money started flowing into their accounts instead of my dad’s. If anything, they’ve doubled down on their kindness and humbleness.

Generous doesn’t begin to cover it. They are going above and beyond in any capacity they can fill.

Without asking—because they know he’d say no—my aunts paid for Malik’s tuition in full. They also set up an account in Malik’s name for whenever he needs it.

He swears he’ll never touch it, but I think I’ll wear him down eventually. I know he doesn’t want it because it’s coming from a Briarwood and he doesn’t exactly have a great history with our money … but it’s different now. It’s clean.

Sometimes, it’s okay to take a gift, especially when there’s no negativity or guilt tied to it.

My aunts also gave Darius and Alicia a nice chunk of money for their support of their future son-in-law.

We’re not engaged … yet. But I swear I’m going to marry that man the second he asks. I would ask him, but knowing his possessive ass, I’m sure he’d say no just so he could do it himself.

Besides, I’m not in a huge rush. I know we’ll be together in the end. I just want to have his last name on my license and not just his jersey.

But I guess having my name on his knuckles for the time being will do.

My music grows louder and louder as it builds toward its resolve. The final battle, the final tug-of-war between light and dark. Right when you feel the song start to crescendo and balance, a new harmony between the two emerges, humming softly through the air until silence is all that remains.

Applause breaks out in the concert hall. Slowly turning toward the audience, I rise to my feet, step out from the bench, and bow. The lights are blinding from here, blocking most of the faces and much of the enormous room. But I can feel his stare, and I find him in the front row. Malik stands up, applauding, and the entire crowd follows suit.

When I can make out the audience’s faces, my smile becomes uncontained, and pure joy blooms in my chest as I see not only that Malik, my aunts, and Sunny are in attendance, but also the rest of his friends—my friends—Griffin, Asher, Dean, Elias, Finn, Blair, Lumi … and Lumi’s new boyfriend, Matt.

Bowing once more, I spin and walk upstage, slipping behind the curtain. The host of the showcase, our university’s president, thanks everyone for coming, bringing the night to a close.

I still can’t believe that I was the closing performer.

After everything that happened with Rupert Von London, I wasn’t sure I would be here at all, but to be selected to end the entire show is really special.

“There you are,” Malik murmurs, spinning me around and kissing me softly. “You were … incredible, Bug. It was beautiful.”

God, I’ll never get over how good he looks in a suit. It’s a good thing I’ll get to see him wear one a lot when he goes pro. He might not be signed yet, but he did mention that a representative for the local professional team had reached out to him and Griffin recently to discuss an entry-level contract, which is a huge first step.

We walk out hand in hand, and our group is waiting for us in the lobby of the auditorium.

Praise and cheers overwhelm me as we approach them.

Taking the leash from Flora, I crouch down and kiss Sunny’s forehead. “Hi, baby.”

She looks up at me with those big brown eyes, and I have to fight the cute aggression from taking over.

After a slew of hugs, Malik, Sunny, and I head home.

My phone vibrates in my purse when we get into his new car—a Corvette still, but a brand-new one that doesn’t hold any bad memories.

He wanted to get rid of the one my dad had given him to cleanse that part of his life. My card was slapped onto the countertop the second we walked into a dealership so he could just “look.” And of course, I refused to leave unless it was in a new vehicle … because I’m a spoiled and bratty princess … right?

I quickly check the text, and it’s just the one I wanted to see.

Investigator Lawrence: Waiting outside, ma’am.

Perfect. Be there in a few.

Evermore has become my home, and I’m not sure I ever want to leave. But until that road comes where we might have to move for his future, I got us a place that we’ll be comfortable in. One that’s just for us three.

Sunny loves the gigantic backyard and the thousand blankets she buries herself in on the couches and beds. Malik loves it for basically the same reason, but I think his favorite might be the movie room, where we spend way too much of our free time.

We turn into our driveway, one nearly as long as Griffin and Blair’s. The path is surrounded by huge, old trees, connecting at the top in a beautiful arch.

“Who is that?” Malik asks the second our home comes into view behind the sky-high hedges and thorny rose bushes.

“A surprise,” I murmur, nearly bursting at the seams as he pulls to a stop in front of the curb, not bothering to go around the corner into the garage complex.

The man in a suit waits at the top of our stairs, framed by the large wooden arch doors, a large box in his hands.

“Come on,” I coo, grabbing my purse and stepping out of the car.

Malik appears at my side, his eyes glued on the strange man, but there’s something else in his eyes, a sense of hope, and I can’t wait for that seed to blossom.

“Good evening,” he greets us, and I smile.

“Thank you so much for this. Seriously, we cannot express our gratitude enough,” I say, carefully taking the box from his hands, surprised by how heavy it is.

With a sharp nod, he descends the stairs and leaves without another word.

Unlocking our door, Malik leads the way inside, walking backward as I follow him in, confusion etched in his features.

Sunny trots in behind us, her leash dragging on the floor. Malik quickly unhooks her, and she books it for her favorite spot—the window cutout that overlooks the waves of Evermore Bay—and curls up in one of her blankets.

Malik watches me cautiously as I carry the box over to our coffee table, setting it gently down on the glass.

“What is it?” he whispers, his voice already thick with emotion.

When I glance up at him, my vision starts to cloud as my throat burns.

Gesturing toward the box, I step backward, giving him space to do this himself.

He drops to his knees on the hardwood floor, and wetness brimming in his eyes as he tears off the top piece of tape and lifts the flaps of the box.

A white chunk of Styrofoam blocks any view of what’s hidden inside. But he knows—I know it.

When he lifts the block, a sob cracks through the room, and he rocks backward onto his butt, lifting his hands to his face as a shudder rolls through him.

His cries shred my heart into pieces as he slowly gains his strength and reaches inside the box, wrapping his hands around Micah’s urn.

“ You found him ,” he whimpers, wrapping Micah up in his arms for the first time in years. “Hi, buddy. It’s damn good to see you.” His voice cracks.

Stroking the ceramic of the urn, he rocks back and forth as tears stream down his face. “You can rest now, buddy. I’ve got you.”

The dam behind my eyes bursts, and I cover my mouth with quivering fingers.

My sob pulls Malik’s attention up to me, and his eyes are so clear, so vivid, no walls or thorns barricading him from the world.

“I love you.” His voice is almost inaudible.

Nodding and sniffling, I wipe the tears from my eyes. “I love you too.”

Minutes pass by as he cradles Micah, taking all the time he needs. And I stay by his side through it all.

Eventually, he rises to his feet and carries Micah over to our fireplace, wiping the surface before carefully setting him down on the mantel, positioned perfectly between the frames of his butterflies.

Walking over to him, I slide my hand on Malik’s back, rubbing up and down soothingly. “A perfect place.”

He nods and wipes his eyes. “For a perfect kid.”

Hooking his arm around my shoulders, he pulls me into him, encasing me in his arms, and he plants endless kisses to the top of my head.

My gaze drifts to the mantel, slowly shifting from butterfly to butterfly, and I can’t help but wonder how our life would look now if one single moment had or hadn’t happened.

The butterfly effect has never felt more personal. It’s crazy to think that in some way, fate played a part in our story. If one rock, one pebble had been out of place, we could have never met. But I think we were always meant to be.

Because of every little moment leading up to this, I stand in the arms of the redeemed villain, in a castle free of curses and thorns, in a love story that is no one else’s but our own.