Maxim’s POV

Dinner tonight felt like a scene I hadn’t realized I missed so much. All of us, sitting at one table, the warmth of laughter echoing around the room, and Miray...she was actually here, with us. But even as I watched her, I could tell she was guarded, as though there was a quiet storm raging inside her she was determined not to let show. I caught her glancing down, deep in thought, but her eyes softened when she looked around, catching the light and warmth in each of our faces. Even if she didn’t say it, I knew she was grateful.

Midway through, Lorenzo cleared his throat, and I looked over. His expression wavered between concern and hesitation, “Miray,” he began, careful, almost like he was treading on glass. “I think it might be time to think about therapy. You don’t have to go alone. We’d help you however you need.”

Miray went completely still. For a moment, I thought she might snap, but she just met his gaze, her eyes unreadable. “I’ll think about it, Enzo” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. I didn’t push—I knew better. Miray held onto her independence like it was a lifeline. If she was going to agree, it would be on her terms.

Then Elijah’s phone buzzed on the table, cutting through the tension. He glanced down and a grin stretched across his face. “Well,” he announced, his eyes lighting up as he looked at each of us, “it’s official. We found our permanent home.”

Miray looked up, surprise and maybe a glint of relief in her expression. We’d all been moving from place to place, holding our breaths, but now...this was something solid.

“It’s a mansion, more than enough space for everyone, and I made sure it’s completely secure,” Elijah continued, his tone sure and steady. He turned his gaze to Miray. “We move in a couple of days.”

Her expression softened, and she looked at Elijah with something like gratitude. “Thank you.....for everything ."she murmured, so soft I almost didn’t hear it. There was something vulnerable in the way she said it, a quiet acknowledgment of everything he’d done to keep her safe.

Elijah reached over, his hand briefly covering hers. “We’re family, Miray. There’s nothing you need to thank us for.” He hesitated, that glimmer of a smirk coming through. “And, I’ve got a surprise waiting for you in the new place.”

“A surprise?” she asked, her curiosity mingling with something hopeful. I’d almost forgotten what she looked like when she let herself hope.

“You’ll see soon enough.” Elijah’s grin grew, and I couldn’t help but feel a warmth settle over all of us. For the first time in a long time, it felt like we had something real—a home, a future.

As we wrapped up dinner, Ethan leapt from his chair, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Movie night!” he practically yelled, already sprinting toward the living room. Miray chuckled, and in a flash, she darted after him.

“Give me the remote!” she demanded, her voice playful in a way I hadn’t heard in ages.

By the time the rest of us reached the living room, Miray and Ethan were in a tug-of-war over the remote.  She whined, throwing a desperate look at  Elijah. “Elijah, he won’t let me pick!”

Elijah crossed his arms, giving Ethan a mock-stern look. “Ethan, give your sister the remote.”

Ethan groaned but handed it over dramatically, while Miray gave him a smug grin. “Serves you right,” she teased, sticking her tongue out.

We all settled into the couches, blankets pulled over us as the lights dimmed. There was a warmth that wrapped around us, a cocoon of familiarity, of home. And just as the movie’s opening credits rolled, I glanced over at Miray. Her face was softened by the dim light, a hint of real, unguarded happiness there. It felt like a victory for all of us.

Halfway through the movie we were all asleep, curled up together like when we were kids.

---

The next morning, I found myself in the gym, letting off steam, my fists slamming into the bag with rhythmic intensity. There was something about the burn, the sharp ache in my muscles, that kept me grounded. Just as I stopped to catch my breath, my phone buzzed on the bench. Liam.

“Hey, man,” I said, still breathing heavily.

“Sounds like you’re killing it in there,” Liam chuckled. “Just checking in on you guys. How’s everything?”

“It’s… good, actually.” I hesitated, feeling the weight of the word. “We’re moving into a new house soon, somewhere safe. Thanks to you, man. We owe you big time.”

“You know I’d do anything for you guys,” he said, his voice genuine. “We’re practically family. I know You’d do the same for me.”

I was about to say something, but another call buzzed in, an unknown number. I frowned, glancing back at the screen. “Liam, I’ll catch up later, alright? Got another call coming through.”

“Of course. Stay safe, man.”

I switched lines. “Hello?”

There was a pause, then a deep, familiar voice crackled through the line. “Miss me?”

........

I stood frozen, my grip tightening on the phone as a familiar, gravelly voice echoed through the receiver. That voice—the one I’d honestly started to doubt I’d ever hear again.

"Miss me?"

The words were coated in calm arrogance, like he hadn’t been out of my life for years. Like he hadn’t left a gap that no one else could fill. I knew that tone as well as my own—it belonged to one person only.

“Greyson, you bastard!” I practically shouted, a rush of emotions hit me—anger, relief, and a ridiculous amount of joy, all at once. "Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? You went off the radar. Didn’t answer any calls, didn’t respond to messages—I thought you were dead or something."

On the other end, there was a low chuckle. It was the same soft, gruff laugh I’d heard countless times in high school, a sound that was as rare as it was exasperating. “Calm down, Maxim,” he said, sounding as unbothered as ever. “I’m fine. My phone got trashed, had to get a new number. That’s all.”

That was just so Greyson. Blunt, dismissive, like going dark for months was no big deal. He could be a pain, but for some reason, I couldn’t even bring myself to be mad. The relief flooding through me was overpowering.

“So... you’re back from Italy, huh?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, but the excitement was all too clear.

“Yeah. Try not to get too emotional, alright?” he said, his tone dry and sarcastic. His reply was short and clipped, each word carefully measured to avoid giving away even a hint of sentiment. It was funny, though—anyone else might’ve found his bluntness rude, But that was Greyson for you—cold on the outside, loyal to a fault on the inside, though he’d never admit it.

Memories flooded back as I listened to him, vivid scenes from those years we’d spent together. We met in high school, back when he’d just moved from Italy. Greyson had that air of mystery about him that most people either avoided or didn’t understand. But something about his quiet, confident demeanor pulled me in from the start. Maybe it was the way he seemed unfazed by everything, like he didn’t need anyone, didn’t care what people thought.

Most people backed off, but I had to know more. I got close, closer than anyone, and once he let me in, we were inseparable. He’d been my best friend, my partner-in-crime, and we’d done just about everything together. Until one day, when his family had to leave suddenly. It was like losing a part of myself.

“So, what are you doing back in town?” I pressed, needing more than just his casual ‘I’m back.’

There was a pause, and then his voice came through, low and evasive. “You’ll find out soon enough,” he said, adding a nonchalant, “I have some things to take care of first. We’ll catch up… eventually.”

Of course, he had to make it sound cryptic. That was so typical of Greyson. He always played his cards close to his chest, never letting anyone in on his plans. He was stubborn, and frustratingly so. But somehow, I couldn’t help but respect him for it.

"Grey..." I said, my voice softer now, betraying a vulnerability I usually kept locked away. "You have no idea how many times I called just to check on you, to make sure you were still alive.”

There was a pause, as if my words had caught him off guard. Maybe I’d managed to touch a nerve, break through that cold, unbreakable exterior of his.

“Sentimental as always,” he muttered, a hint of exasperation in his tone. “Look, Maxim, I appreciate the concern. But I don’t need anyone checking up on me.”

I rolled my eyes. As much as he tried to deny it, I knew he cared. He’d just never show it outright. "Fine, fine. Just... don’t disappear again, alright? I’m serious.”

A heavy silence lingered for a moment, before he sighed, and I could almost picture him, looking away as he finally muttered, “Noted.” That one word was probably the closest thing to an apology or reassurance I’d ever get from him. But somehow, it was enough.

“Anyway, I’ve got to go,” he added, his voice returning to that clipped, no-nonsense tone. “We’ll meet up soon.”

And just like that, the line went dead.

Before I could respond, the line went dead, leaving me staring at my phone, a mix of irritation and amusement bubbling up inside me. I should’ve known he’d cut the call short just like that, without any proper goodbye. But that was Greyson. Frustrating, closed-off, but somehow, one of the best friends I’d ever had.

I leaned back against the wall, a smirk spreading across my face despite myself. Greyson was back. He was actually back. Even if he acted like he didn’t need me, I knew better. We both knew, even if neither of us would say it out loud.

Greyson and I went way back, and I couldn’t wait to have him back in my life again.

"Someone's gonna get his ass whooped by Enzo." I chuckled. He's so dead.