Safe With You

The Night After

~ Lillian ~

If strength had a sound, it would be the quiet that fills the kitchen right now — the hum of the fridge, the faint bubbling of pasta water, and the soft, tired laughter that comes after surviving a storm.

Everyone’s home. Everyone’s safe.

And that, tonight, feels like everything.

I’m barefoot, wearing leggings and one of Greyson’s hoodies, standing at the stove like I’ve been doing this forever.

Dinner’s simple — garlic butter pasta, salad, and bread still warm from the oven. Comfort food for the soul.

Greyson’s leaning against the counter beside me, sleeves rolled up, tie long gone, looking utterly spent but content.

There’s a softness in his eyes when he glances toward Alyssa — the kind of look that says I’d walk through fire for you again if I had to.

Alyssa’s perched at the breakfast bar, hair still perfectly styled but her heels abandoned somewhere near the door.

She’s holding the world’s largest glass of wine and glaring at it like it’s personally responsible for her sore feet.

“These shoes,” she mutters, kicking at her heels on the floor. “These evil, sadistic, spawn-of-the-devil contraptions.”

Greyson chuckles quietly. “You were the most powerful woman in that courtroom today. I don’t think anyone noticed the shoes.”

“They noticed,” she insists, taking a long sip. “I limped my way through justice, Greyson.”

He smiles, stepping close to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “You were perfect.”

Her shoulders soften, just a little. “My toes would like to file a complaint.”

I snort, stirring the pasta. “You want slippers?”

“God, yes. And pyjamas. Maybe a foot massage. Preferably from someone who’s not going to say I ‘looked powerful.’”

Greyson grins. “You were more than powerful, Lyss. You were unstoppable.”

He means it, every word.

Her voice catches slightly. “You really think so?”

He nods. “I’ve never been prouder of you.”

For a moment, she just looks at him, emotion flickering in her eyes — then clears her throat and stands, still muttering.

“Right. I’m getting changed before I start crying and ruin the whole ‘intimidating boss woman’ aesthetic.”

She picks up her heels and marches toward the stairs, dramatically cursing under her breath as she goes.

~ Greyson ~

The moment she disappears upstairs, I let out a quiet breath I didn’t realise I was holding.

“She did good, didn’t she?” I murmur to Lillian.

Lillian smiles faintly. “She did more than good. She took her power back.”

I nod, running a hand through my hair. “She’s still shaken, but she won’t show it. She’ll pour herself into work tomorrow, like always.”

“Yeah,” Lillian agrees softly. “But she’s not alone this time.”

That makes me smile. “No, she’s not.”

By the time Alyssa reappears — hair down, makeup gone, wrapped in silk pyjamas — dinner’s ready and the entire house smells like garlic and peace.

She looks less like the woman who stood in court and more like our Alyssa again.

Melissa pops her head in to say Hope’s asleep before vanishing upstairs, leaving us to the quiet hum of evening.

The three of us eat together, warm and easy.

Alyssa’s laughter starts small, then grows — spilling out across the room like light.

~ Winston ~

I’m halfway through my second helping when my phone buzzes under the table.

A message from Triston.

Triston: “Elle and Kelsi just finished the final layout for the surprise.”

Winston: " Decor confirmed?”

Triston: “Yep. Savannah’s thrilled. Just don’t let Lillian find out.”

I glance up. Lillian’s distracted, pouring more wine into Alyssa’s glass. Good.

I type fast.

Winston: “Got it. We’ll handle logistics after court tomorrow.”

Savannah: “No word of this reaches her ears. She deserves magic after all this.”

Winston: “Copy that, mission classified.”

I lock my phone just as Lillian glances over.

“What are you smiling about?” she asks suspiciously.

I shrug. “Just memes from Triston.”

She narrows her eyes, but lets it go.

If only she knew her eighteenth birthday is being orchestrated like a covert royal event.

~ Triston ~

By the time Winston’s finished “not texting,” we’re sitting in the lounge with half-empty glasses and full stomachs.

Alyssa’s stretched across the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, muttering happily about how “flats should be socially mandatory.”

Greyson’s beside her, arm draped lazily across the back of the couch.

The sight of her — relaxed, laughing, safe — makes something in my chest unclench.

A year ago, she was still flinching at shadows.

Seven years ago, she was running barefoot through the dark, baby in her arms.

And tonight? She’s home.

“Hey,” I say quietly, breaking the comfortable silence. “You know you scared the hell out of him today, right?”

She looks over, brow furrowing. “Mark?”

“Yeah. You didn’t even blink. You stared him down like he was nothing.”

Her smile is small but fierce. “Because he is nothing.”

Greyson squeezes her hand, pride written all over his face.

~ Lillian ~

When dinner’s done, I shoo everyone out of the kitchen and clean up, humming quietly.

Alyssa’s upstairs changing again, Greyson’s helping Winston put away the laptop and paperwork, and Triston’s texting someone — probably Elle.

I take one look at the empty wine glass Alyssa left behind and refill it.

She’s earned it.

When she comes back down — hair braided, soft jumper on, no trace of makeup — I hand her the glass without a word.

She takes it with a tired smile. “You’re an angel.”

“I know,” I say, grinning.

She sinks into the armchair beside me with a sigh. “Heels are evil, Lill. Actual evil.”

“Noted,” I say. “Next time, combat boots.”

“Tempting,” she mumbles, taking a sip. “Might start a trend.”

Greyson joins us, wrapping his arm around the back of her chair. “You’d make it look good.”

“Of course I would,” she says sleepily.

The room hums with warmth — soft laughter, gentle teasing, the kind of safety we’d all forgotten how to feel for a while.

When Winston and Triston finally head out, promising to “check in tomorrow,” Greyson squeezes Alyssa’s hand.

“You were amazing today, Lyss.”

She smiles, the kind that reaches her eyes. “Couldn’t have done it without all of you.”

I watch them — my brother and the woman who’s more sister than anything — and I can’t help thinking that after everything we’ve been through… this peace is sacred.

~ Winston ~

In the car later, my phone buzzes again.

Savannah: “Any word from Alyssa?”

Winston: “She’s safe. Exhausted. left her asleep on Greys shoulder.”

Savannah: “Good. Tell Triston tomorrow we’re finalising the decor for Lillian’s party.”

Winston: “Already done. Operation Surprise Birthday is still under wraps.”

Savannah: “Perfect. She deserves the world after all this.”

I glance back at the glowing house as we drive away — light spilling from the kitchen window, laughter echoing faintly into the night.

For the first time in months, the storm feels like it’s passing.