Chapter 234

Iris

Five Years Later…

“Fifty years of marriage, and they still make each other laugh like that,” Arthur says, appearing at my side with two glasses of champagne. He hands me one and clinks his against it, and we watch as my parents twirl on the lawn, my mom throwing her head back at something my father has said. Her silver hair catches the light—she let it go gray last year, and it suits her.

“Cheers to fifty more years for them,” he continues.

“Only if I get fifty more with you,” I reply, taking a sip.

Arthur grins. “Deal.”

My gaze drifts across the garden to where Miles is showing his little cousin Henry how to properly skip rocks across the small pond. At eleven, Miles is already tall and lanky like his father, all elbows and knees, with the same stubborn curl that falls over his forehead no matter how many times I brush it back.

But I’ve stopped trying; it’s Arthur’s curl, after all, and I love it on both of them.

As for his prophetic abilities, those have calmed down a bit with the years. Either that, or he’s just getting to the age where he keeps more secrets and doesn’t blurt out everything he thinks. I try not to think about that possibility, though, because it’s too painful of a reminder that they can’t stay little and attached to Mommy’s hip forever.

“Miles! That’s not fair!” a small voice protests loudly. Augustine stands at the edge of the pond, her hands on her hips, glaring at her brother with golden eyes. Arthur always says she took too much after me in the attitude department. “You promised I could go next!”

“I am letting you go next,” Miles sighs. “I’m just showing Henry how to do it first.”

“No, you’re not! You’re taking all the good rocks!”

“There are plenty of rocks, Auggie.”

“Not the flat ones! You’re hogging all the flat ones!” Augustine stomps her foot, her dark curls bouncing as she whirls to look at Arthur. “Daddy! Tell Miles to share the flat rocks!”

Arthur sighs beside me. “Duty calls.”

I laugh as he heads off to mediate the great rock dispute. Some things never change—Miles and Augustine can go from best friends to mortal enemies in the span of seconds. It keeps things interesting, to say the least.

Their three-year-old cousin, Henry, is always the milder of the bunch, although I think he secretly just finds it funny when they fight. He’s not at all like his mother, Selina—at least not the Selina I once knew. But I have to admit that she is different these days.

A lot different.

“Still bickering, I see.” Alice’s voice pulls me from my thoughts as she joins me on the patio. She’s wearing a vibrant fuschia mini dress with bright yellow orchids on it, her hair still in that pixie style that always suited her. “Don’t hold your breath on them growing out of it.”

I look past her to where Hunter is setting up a croquet game with some of the younger guests. He catches Alice watching him and waves, his smile widening.

“So,” I say casually, “when are you two going to make it official?”

Alice blushes and sips her champagne. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Please,” I scoff. “You’ve been dancing around each other for years. Just admit it already.”

“We’re… taking things slow,” Alice says defensively. “The gallery keeps us both so busy, especially with the new international partnerships.”

It’s true—Marsiel Gallery has exploded onto the global art scene in the past five years, partly due to Alice’s impeccable eye for talent and partly due to Hunter’s business acumen. They’ve opened locations in three major cities and have plans for two more. I couldn’t be prouder of what they’ve accomplished.

“Speaking of busy,” Alice says, clearly eager to change the subject, “how’s the new academy coming along?”

“On schedule, believe it or not,” I reply. “The Bo’Arrocan branch is finally running smoothly, and the Ordan location just graduated its first class of seniors. Six of them got full scholarships to prestigious art schools.”

“That’s amazing, Iris.” Alice squeezes my arm. “You’ve created something truly special.”

I can’t help but agree, as egotistical as it sounds. What started as a small free art program for disadvantaged children has grown into a network of full-fledged arts academies, offering everything from painting and sculpture to music and dance.

The third location, currently under construction near our ranch in the territories, will focus specifically on traditional art forms that have been nearly lost to time.

“I couldn’t have done it without you and Hunter,” I tell her gently. “Or without Arthur’s support.”

“Speaking of Arthur’s support,” Alice says with a grin, “I heard Ezra’s approval ratings are at an all-time high. Looks like your husband’s advice is paying off.”

I glance over to where Ezra is chatting with Caleb, his posture poised and his hair neatly swept to the side. Despite his initial reluctance, Ezra has turned out to be a natural leader—fair, thoughtful, and surprisingly adept at navigating Ordan’s complex political landscape.

It was a struggle to get him elected being a Beta and all, but the people trusted Arthur’s endorsement, and it would take a fool not to see Ezra’s dedication.

Of course, Arthur still consults with him regularly, essentially having swapped roles and becoming Ezra’s Beta in a way, but he’s never regretted his decision to step down.

“I think Arthur found he enjoys being the man behind the throne more than the one on it,” I say with a smile. “All the influence, none of the stress.”

“Plus more time with you and the kids,” Alice points out. “I’ve never seen him happier.”

She’s right. The past five years have been good to us. Without the constant pressure of the presidency, Arthur has been able to focus on what truly matters to him—family, community, making a difference in more personal ways. We still live in our apartment in Ordan, although it’s a lot more cramped now with two kids. During the summers, when the kids are out of school, we live at the ranch. It’s the perfect balance.

“Oh, look who just arrived,” Alice says suddenly, nodding toward the garden entrance.

I turn to see Brian and Liam making their way across the lawn, a small ten-year-old girl with pigtails between them, holding both their hands with a nervous expression on her face.

My eyes widen. That’s Lily, from the orphanage—the little girl in the polka dot dress that Miles had developed the most adorable crush on. To see her now, happy and loved as Brian and Liam’s second adoptive daughter and third adoptive child total, feels like the closing of a perfect circle.

As if on cue, Miles spots them and abandons the rock-skipping contest (much to Augustine’s delight) to run over and greet them. His face lights up when he sees Lily, and she breaks away from her fathers to give him a hug.

“Ah. Young love,” Alice says with a dreamy sigh.

“They’re eleven,” I remind her with a withering glare. “Let’s not plan the wedding just yet, psycho.”

But watching them, I can’t help but remember being young and smitten myself. You never know, I guess. Life has a funny way of working out sometimes.

I excuse myself from Alice to greet the newcomers, hugging Brian and Liam warmly. “I’m so glad you could make it,” I tell them. “And congratulations on the adoption. Lily looks so happy.”

“She is,” Brian says, his eyes following his daughter as she shows Miles a bracelet she’s wearing. The twins are currently pestering Augustine, chasing her with sticks, which I think is instant karma for being such a brat. “We all are. The twins love her.”

“How’s Bo’Arrocan?” I ask.

“Actually…” Liam glances at Brian. “We’re considering moving back to Ordan. To be closer to you all.”

I can hardly believe it. Before my friends can say anything else, I squeal and throw my arms around them both, jumping up and down. Liam and Brian and the twins are the one major thing I’ve missed dearly since leaving Bo’Arrocan, and to find that they’re finally considering living in Ordan full time is like a dream come true.

Over their shoulder, I notice a familiar figure standing apart from the crowd, near one of the rose gardens. Selina. She’s thinner than the last time I saw her, her face more lined, but she looks… peaceful as she watches her son play with the other kids. No one knows who the father is—I’m not even sure if she knows—but I can tell she’s happy. Happier than she ever was with Arthur.

When she catches me looking, she raises her glass in a small salute.

I hesitate for a moment, then raise my own glass in return. We’ll never be close—too much has happened between us for that—but the bitterness has faded over the years. She’s built a life for herself despite everything, and we’ve managed to reach a place of cautious respect, if not quite forgiveness.

The party continues as the afternoon stretches into evening. My father makes a touching speech about love and partnership that leaves half the guests in tears. My mother, not to be outdone, recites a poem she wrote for the occasion that has everyone laughing and crying at the same time. Caleb presents them with an all-expenses-paid cruise around the southern islands, a gift from all their children.

As the sun begins to set, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold, I find myself drawn to the small hill at the edge of the property. From here, I can see the entire party spread out below—my parents dancing slowly to the music, Miles and Lily playing a game of tag with Augustine and the other children, Brian and Liam chatting with Ezra about something that has them all gesturing animatedly, Alice and Hunter standing suspiciously close together beneath a flowering cherry tree.

“Beautiful view,” Arthur says, climbing the hill to join me.

“The best,” I agree, leaning into him as he wraps his arms around me from behind.

“What are you thinking about up here all by yourself?”

“Everything,” I admit. “How much has changed. How much has stayed the same. How lucky we are.”

Arthur is quiet for a moment, and I know he’s thinking about everything we’ve been through—the separations, the betrayals, the dangers, the losses. But also the joy, the growth, the love that has only deepened with time.

“We are lucky,” he agrees. “But we’ve also worked hard for this, Iris. For our family, for our happiness. It wasn’t just luck.”

I turn in his arms to face him, reaching up to trace the lines at the corners of his eyes—lines that weren’t there when we first met, lines that tell the story of our life together. “No, it wasn’t just luck,” I reply. “But it still feels like a miracle sometimes, doesn’t it? That we found our way back to each other? That we’re here?”

Instead of answering, Arthur leans down and kisses me softly, his hands warm against my back. When we break apart, he smiles that smile that still makes my heart skip a beat even after all these years.

“I love you,” he says simply. “Yesterday, today, tomorrow. Always.”

I smirk up at him. “Even when it’s hard?”

“Especially when it’s hard.”

Below us, Augustine’s laughter rings out as she chases her brother across the lawn. My parents sway together beneath the fairy lights. Our friends raise their glasses and toast to love, to family, to the future.

And as the sun dips below the horizon, Arthur and I stand together on our little hill, watching over it all.