Chapter 15
843 Words
Family Ties
The hospital corridor smelled of bleach and wilted flowers. Ava walked it alone at first, clutching a paper bag of her father’s favorite sesame bagels and the new paperback Western he’d asked for. She had texted Lucian that morning.
I need to do this by myself today.
He had answered with a single word.
Understood.
So when the elevator doors opened on the oncology floor and Lucian stepped out behind her, coat over his arm, sunflowers bright against the gray walls, her heart stuttered in surprise.
He met her eyes, calm and steady. I know you asked for space. But I’m not here for you. I’m here for him. If he throws me out, I’ll go.
Something warm and terrifying unfurled in her chest. She nodded once.
They entered the room together.
Robert Harper was half dozing, television flickering with some old John Wayne movie. When he focused and saw Lucian standing at the foot of the bed, his face hardened instantly.
Well, look what the cat dragged in, he rasped. Come to gloat, Blackwell?
Lucian didn’t flinch. No, sir. Came to say thank you.
Robert barked a humorless laugh that turned into a cough. Ava moved to help, but Lucian was already there, steadying the water cup, adjusting the pillow with careful hands. Robert glared, but he was too weak to pull away.
Thank you for what? Robert snapped when he could speak again.
For raising the strongest woman I’ve ever known. Lucian’s voice was low, respectful. And for trusting me, even for a minute, with your daughter’s heart.
Robert’s eyes narrowed. You’ve got a hell of a way of showing trust, boy. Locking her up like property.
Ava’s breath caught. Lucian didn’t deny it.
I did, he said simply. Worst mistake of my life. I’m trying every day to make it right. I don’t expect forgiveness. Just wanted you to hear it from me, man to man.
Robert studied him for a long moment, sharp blue eyes cutting through the fatigue and morphine haze. Then he looked at Ava.
Is that true, baby girl? He’s trying?
Ava’s throat closed. She moved to her father’s bedside, took his thin hand. He is, Dad. And I love him. I never stopped. I just got lost for a while.
Robert’s fingers tightened around hers, frail but fierce. Are you sure he deserves you?”
No, she whispered, tears spilling. But I’m sure I want to find out.
Silence stretched. Outside, snow started to fall past the window in lazy spirals.
Finally Robert sighed, long and tired. Sit down, Blackwell. You’re making my neck hurt looming like that.
Lucian pulled up a chair. For the next hour he listened while Robert told stories, gruff, sometimes crude, always proud about Ava as a little girl with scraped knees and a mean right hook. Lucian laughed in the right places, asked quiet questions, refilled the water without being asked. When Robert’s eyes grew heavy, Lucian stood, pressed a careful hand to the old man’s shoulder.
Get some rest, sir. I’ll bring her back tomorrow.
Robert caught his sleeve. You hurt her again, I’ll haunt you. Cancer or no cancer.
Lucian’s smile was small and real. Understood.
Back in the penthouse that night, the air felt different, lighter, like the snow had carried away some of the poison.
Ava found Lucian in the bedroom, shirt unbuttoned, staring out at the city. She came up behind him, slid her arms around his waist, pressed her cheek between his shoulder blades.
Thank you, she whispered against his skin.
He turned, cupped her face with both hands. I needed him to see I’m not the villain anymore. And I needed you to see it too.
She rose on her toes and kissed him, soft, slow, deliberate. No anger left, only tenderness and a fragile, hard-won hope.
They undressed each other like it was the first time buttons slipping free, fabric whispering to the floor, every touch careful, reverent. When they came together on the bed it was gentle, almost unbearably so. He entered her inch by inch, eyes locked, breathing her name like a prayer. She wrapped her legs around him, hands stroking his back, feeling the tremor in his shoulders.
There was no rush, no dominance, no score-keeping. Just two people learning how to love each other without weapons.
After, he stayed inside her, foreheads touching, hearts hammering in the same rhythm.
I’m going to marry you one day, he whispered into the dark. Properly. When you’re ready. When you choose me freely.
Ava’s fingers traced the scar through his eyebrow, the one she’d kissed a lifetime ago. I’m already choosing you, she said. Every day I stay, I’m choosing you.
He exhaled like a man who’d been holding his breath for five years, pulled her closer, and for the first time since she’d come back, they fell asleep tangled together with nothing between them no contracts, no lies, no locked doors.
Outside, the snow kept falling, soft and forgiving.
Inside, something broken began, very quietly, to heal.
- Writer
