With the twins back, everything felt undeniable. I sat with them in their room far past when they fell asleep, hesitant of the adult responsibilities I would face when I walked out.

After another moment, I left them in their comfort to return to the kitchen. Augustine stood in his position leaned back against the kitchen counter. The harsh white of the undercabinet lights framed his perfect body. The similar light from his phone's screen illuminated the handsome lines of his face. His thumbs were in full force. Two days of missed work had caught up to him, or so he said. There was no doubt in my mind that he was hiding behind his comfortable shield.

Two glasses of wine stood beside him. He didn't look at me as I approached but his hand still managed to find my waist to pull me close to him. He pulled his eyes from his screen just long enough to kiss me. When our lips separated, he looked down at me with a little grin and returned his gaze to his phone. His arm snaked around me, his hand settling on my hip to remind me I was still part of his focus.

His touch comforted me but it wasn't enough to ease my guilt. It had been hours and Matthew still hadn't come out. I grabbed my glass from the counter and stared at its ruby color. "I'm worried about Matthew," I said.

"Don't be. He'll come out when he's hungry."

"It's been over twelve hours. I should bring him something."

Augustine glanced at me with a look of annoyance. "No. You shouldn't."

"You really plan to starve him out?" A hum was his only response. "You do realize he's your child, right?"

"Your point?"

"He will go on a hunger strike if that's what it takes to prove you wrong."

He smirked. A chuckle rumbled from his chest. "That's what you think of me?"

"Please. He is ninety-percent you, ten-percent Lara." It felt odd to say her name so casually. I stared at his profile, watching his eyes flicker over his screen as he read. He didn't seem bothered. That was a relief. "You don't have to tell him exactly what happened, but you need to tell him what she had."

He shifted his weight with a heavy sigh. There's the discomfort. He let me go and picked up his glass. It was obvious he had no intention of responding.

"Augustine . . ." I didn't want to say it but I knew I had no choice. "He's either having sex or he will be soon. He needs to know he's a carrier and that he needs to plan to—"

"I understand," he cut me off. "If he comes out—when he comes out—I will talk to him." He finished his glass and set it back on the counter.

"Don't tell me you're leaving."

"I have a call." As always. He pulled me close and caught my lips with his. "You can punish me for it later."

. . .

I gave it another hour and another glass of wine, but still nothing. My mind filled the silence with unwanted thoughts until they became too loud to bear. I got up with a huff and went down the hall.

I tapped on the door. "Matthew?" He didn't answer. "Honey, you need to eat something."

"I'm not hungry."

"Yes, you are. Your father is busy. Come out and let me make you something."

After a stretch of silence, the sound of the lock lifted my hopes. He stood in the doorway but didn't leave the safety of his room. Though he refused to look my way, I could still see his eyes were red and puffy. He wiped the back of his hand over one.

"I'm sorry," I told him.

"No you're not."

"Yes. I am." The guilt made my skin ache. "I may have lied by omission, but I did not betray you, Matthew. I was doing my best to protect you, like I always have and I always will."

He finally looked at me. The tears in his eyes matched mine. His brow furrowed. "You asked him about Mom?"

"I did."

"And he denied it, I'm sure. What was his excuse this time?"

"He didn't have an excuse. He told me the truth."

"Yeah, sure. What was it?" 

"That's not for me to share. That needs to come from him."

"Well, that will never happen, so I guess I'm good."

I closed my eyes and let out a sigh. "Just come eat something, please."

He hesitated for a moment then took his first slow steps out. He walked with me up the hall. I draped my arm over his shoulder and pulled him into a hug he didn't return.

When he stopped in his tracks, I looked over and saw why. Augustine was halfway down the stairs. The two of them stared each other down like cats waiting to fight.

"No," Matthew said and struggled to escape from my grasp. "I don't want to talk to him."

"I know you don't, but you'll have to at some point," I told him. "Please give it a chance."

Augustine finished his descent, his eyes shifting between the two of us. Matthew started to push me out of the way but I gave him a warning glare. I had too much experience putting Montgomery men in their place for him to win this game. 

"Matthew, stop it. I love you, but this has to end. Please, please just talk."

He crossed his arms and dedicated himself to his scowl. He looked over my shoulder and said to his father, "You're an asshole."

His father laughed. "And you're a little shit. What of it?"

"I want to leave! I'd rather live on the streets than stay here with you!"

"Bloody well do it then," he threatened him.

"Shut up!" I stopped him with a yell. "Oh my God, you are fighting with a child, Augustine." Matthew smirked and opened his mouth to say something smart. "Don't you start with me either."

I pulled them both by the arms and forced them to sit on the couch. Augustine and Mini Augustine both glared at me, their lips parted as if to scoff at my audacity.

"You two are the same person, and it is so frustrating. You think the same, you act the same, you are feeling the same things right now. You just. Need. To. Talk," I said, clapping with every word.

"I don't have anything to say to him," Matthew crossed his arms.

I placed my hands on my hips. "We both know that isn't true. If you don't want to say something, try listening." 

"Well, I don't care what he has to say either. I already know enough." 

With a sigh, I sat between them, creating a barrier that would hopefully provide them a buffer and support. "You do care, Matthew. More than that, you deserve the truth." He sneered but listened. "Your father has agreed to talk to you. He will listen and answer your questions without being reactive or yelling back when you do," I reminded him. With a little snarl, he dropped his gaze from mine. 

"Why are you two ganging up on me? Because you're together now or something?"

"Something, yes," I answered to the best of my ability.

"That's fucking disgusting."

"Your father and I being in a relationship is disgusting?" I repeated, clarifying his discomfort in black and white language. He cringed. "Why?"

"Because . . . Because you two shouldn't be together! Aubrey deserves way better than you!" he seethed.

"That's true," Augustine agreed.

"I don't want her to be with someone who leaves all the time, who doesn't give a shit about his own family. Someone who—" he stopped short when his voice cracked. "Someone who'll cast her aside when he's tired of her . . . or hurt her the way you hurt Mom."

"I never hurt your mother," he said, his tone deep and threatening. My hand at his arm made him regain his composure. He looked into my eyes as if to find strength before looking back at his son. "I loved your mother more than anything. I wish you could have seen that."

"Then why were you fighting that night? Why was she gone the next morning? What did you do to her?!"

I stood as I started to cry and placed a hand on Augustine's shoulder in silent support. He covered it with his to tell me he was okay.

I left them alone, but not completely. I took a few steps up the hall and tucked myself behind the staircase just out of their line of sight.

"Your mother was ill, Matthew," he managed.

"Yeah, I know."

"Terminally ill," he clarified. "She knew from birth she wouldn't live a full life."

Matthew's eyes welled with tears. "What?"

He looked toward his father with a quivering chin. Augustine stared down at the floor. I could see him struggling to fight back his emotion. My chest ached at the sight.

"We planned to tell you when you were old enough to understand, but things happened quicker than either of us expected." Augustine took in a shaky breath. "I would have done anything I could to keep her with us. I would have taken her place if I had the chance, but I didn't," he said. "I'm sorry."

Matthew stared at him with teary eyes, his face twisted in anger and surprise at his father's show of emotion. "But . . . But she was fine," he cried.

"She wasn't. She hid it well but she had been in constant pain for years," Augustine said, his voice shaky. "It was wrong of us not to tell you but . . . she didn't . . . She didn't want her hurt to hurt you."

Matthew stared at him. His eyes blinking, shifting as if trying to find sense in the air. "You didn't tell me."

"No. And I'm sorry." He looked aside and I saw the pain on his face. "The last thing your mother wanted was for you to live your life worried about when hers would end."

"She was . . . And I . . . That's not fair! That's not—" Matthew covered his face in his hands and started to cry. Augustine gripped his shoulder to pull him closer. He rested his cheek on the top of Matthew's head.

Knowing the walls had come down, I wiped away tears of heartbreak and relief. I turned and began heading toward the bedroom, giving them privacy.

"I miss her so much," I heard Matthew cry on my way up the hall.

"I do as well."

. . .

I jolted awake, not realizing I had fallen asleep. I looked at my screen to see it was just past two in the morning and I was still alone in Augustine's bed. Unsure where he was, I grew nervous.

Feeling groggy, I got up to go check on them. I walked back into the main room and my mouth dropped open. Matthew and Augustine were sitting at the table together smiling over a box of pizza. Matthew was talking, Augustine listening. I stood in shock trying to decide if I was still dreaming.

"So, everyone kind of had a crush on Maxwell, so it got awkward. That's why I left early."

"You have a crush on her?" Augstine asked in a teasing tone. 

"Yeah. And our other friend."

"Which one?"

". . . Jeremy."

Augustine paused for a moment. "Jeremy is the one whose father owns the apartment buildings?"

"Hotels, yeah."

"God, that's right. His father is a right knob. Are you sure you like his son?"

Matthew smiled. "Yeah. Plus, I'm pretty sure that's what they say about us, too." Augustine laughed and Matthew joined him.

They both spotted me, the smiles lingering on their faces. "Hi," I said.

"Hi. Do you want some pizza?" Matthew offered.

"No, I'm okay. Thank you though." I crossed my ankle over the other and hugged myself. "It's late. I was just checking to make sure you two were doing okay."

Augustine's gaze flickered from mine and looked toward Matthew. "I think we're alright."

Matthew smiled. "Yeah. We're good."

I grinned at them, but inside, I was beaming. "Okay, then. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

. . .

A hectic night was followed by a morning of calm. On the rooftop deck, the breeze was brisk and cool, causing my hair to tickle against my neck. I leaned against the railing and watched the kids as they played on the lower deck.

Something in my peripheral gained my attention. I turned to watch Augustine approaching. He handed me a cup of black coffee without a word. "Thank you."

He grinned. "I should be thanking you," he said. 

"Oh yeah? How did it go last night?"

"Far better than expected," he said, looking toward the kids. "I'm certain he still hates me, but I think he's let himself see me as human rather than the monster he made me out to be in his mind. Being able to talk to him—really talk to him for the first time in years . . ." He didn't need to finish his thought for me to know how he felt. 

I smiled wide behind my mug. "I'm proud of you," I said.

"Whatever for?"

"What you did last night took a lot of strength. I'm in awe of you," I told him. He chuckled. "There's still work to do—and a lot of therapy, I'm sure—but . . . I'm very proud of how far you've come." I smiled at him over my mug. "I take full credit for it all." 

He tried to hide his grin as much as possible. We took a sip but he never looked away from me. "I plan to take more of your advice," he said.

"How so?"

"It's time I take a step back. Reduce my work hours, lessen my travel. I figure it's best we let Matthew finish school, then move the twins here full-time after." He sighed. "I was considering selling the house, but . . . I'm not sure I can let it go just yet." His hesitance was palpable. 

"I know the house is tied to painful memories, but there are so many good ones as well. Those memories won't disappear when it's gone. Her memories won't disappear when it's gone. You should keep it if you want." I watched him mull it over and then nod. 

I slowly sipped my coffee in an attempt to stave off my desire to sleep. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the breeze against my skin, the feel of the sun against my skin as it lifted above the tops of the buildings beyond.

"I'm going to marry you," he said.

I turned my head to look at him. He continued to stare ahead, his elbows resting casually on the railing. "What?"

"I'm going to marry you. Not today. Not tomorrow. But soon."

I rested the mug on the railing between my palms and stared at him in shock. He looked at me with his dark eyes. The fear I would have felt before wasn't there. Instead, the pounding in my chest was something else. Something much better. 

"No quip?" he asked in amusement. His eyes appraised me. A smile tugging on his lips. "Does that mean you'll say yes?"

I smirked. "I'll require plenty of rough, merciless persuasion . . . but your chances look pretty good." 

With a smile, he pulled me to him and placed a slow kiss on my lips. I knew the kids would see, but I wasn't afraid that they would. He was mine. They all were.

His lips parted from mine and he gave me a look that said it all. 

Without another word, we turned and watched as Matthew started chasing the twins, making them squeal with glee. The sound of metal on metal chimed in my ear. I looked over as Augustine's fingers left the platinum band atop the railing. He leaned back onto his elbows next to it. I said nothing.

"I've never asked," he mused. "Do you want children of your own?"

I smiled to myself. "I already have three."

_____

A/N: Thank you for reading! 

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