As You Wished

Home

The black Rolls-Royce cut through Noverra's streets like a knife through silk, leaving the city's glittering chaos behind. Skyscrapers gave way to tree-lined avenues, the urban sprawl softening into something quieter, more forgiving.

"Where are you taking me?" Elior asked, watching familiar landmarks disappear in the rearview mirror. They were heading away from downtown, away from the Arvenhart mansion and Kael's penthouse.

"Home," Kael said simply, glancing at him. "Like I said."

The word hit Elior like a physical blow. Home. Such a simple concept that had become impossibly complicated over the years.

"You mean..."

"Our home." Kael's hand found his, fingers intertwining with practiced ease. "You know the one."

Elior's breath caught. Of course he knew. The place where they'd spent countless afternoons, where the rest of the world couldn't touch them. Where they'd been just Kael and Elior, not heirs or celebrities or any of the roles they'd been forced to play.

"Does it still exist?" The question came out smaller than he'd intended.

"Julian's been taking care of it."

"Uncle Ju." Elior smiled despite himself. "Still looking after his wayward young master."

Kael's answering smile was fond. Some things never changed, and Julian's devotion was one of them.

Then Elior remembered, and his face fell. "But didn't your father sell it? Ten years ago?"

Kael's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "He did. After that night."

The weight of shared memory settled between them like a third passenger. Elior looked down at his hands, shame burning hot in his chest.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"For what?"

"For everything. For what happened to your family because of me ..."

"Stop." Kael pulled over abruptly, the car coming to rest under an ancient oak tree. "You didn't do anything wrong. Not a damn thing."

"Your father lost his position because of us."

"My father made his own choices." Kael's voice was firm, but gentle. "Just like we made ours."

Before Elior could protest further, Kael was reaching for him, pulling him into an embrace that felt like coming home and falling apart all at once. Elior melted into it, breathing in the scent that was uniquely Kael—expensive cologne layered over something warmer, more human.

"Nobody was at fault," Kael murmured against his hair. "We were kids caught in an impossible situation. Sometimes there are no good choices, only necessary ones."

For a moment, Elior let himself have this. The warmth, the safety, the feeling that maybe they could find their way back to something that resembled happiness. Then reality crept back in, and he pulled away.

"I'm sorry," he said again, trying to smile. "You just got back, and here I am dragging up ancient history."

"Hey." Kael's thumb brushed across his cheek, catching a tear Elior hadn't realized had fallen. "We're going to be okay. Both of us."

Elior nodded, not quite trusting his voice.

"Come on," Kael said, putting the car back in drive. "We're almost there."

The road ahead was familiar now, winding through neighborhoods that belonged to a different lifetime. In the distance, Elior could make out the shape of a small house with wraparound porches and gardens that had once been their secret world.

Some places, he thought, were worth coming back to. Even if they broke your heart in the process.