“That’s why I asked.”
“It’s work,” she said simply. “A lot of it. And not the pretty kind you can post about. It’s therapy, check-ins, nights where we have to name hard truths out loud instead of letting them fester.”
Maverick nodded. “We don’t pretend to be perfect. We just made a pact early on, honesty first, always. Even when it hurts.”
Knox took his hand and gently squeezed it. “And we protect each other’s individuality. I’m still me, he’s still him, she’s still her. We don’t merge into one person, we move like three separate souls aligned in the same direction.”
That hit me harder than I expected.
I leaned back in my chair. “That’s what I want,” I admitted quietly. “To build something real with them, without losing myself, or smothering them in the process. I’ve spent my whole life trying to control everything, to hold the peace. It’s hard to let go of that instinct.”
Maverick looked at me, eyes softening. “You’ve always been the peacekeeper, James. You carried the load nobody else saw. But you can’t love like that. You can’t keep people safe and free at the same time.”
Ajaih nodded slowly. “Let them love you the way you love them, openly, imperfectly, and with grace.”
Knox poured a little more whiskey into my glass. “And don’t forget the fun. Love’s heavy sometimes, but it’s supposed to lift you too.”
I laughed under my breath. “You sound like a damn Hallmark card.”
Knox grinned. “A sexy one, though.”
That got all three of us laughing, the sound carrying into the night.
Maverick’s voice softened again. “You’re doing fine, James. They adore you. Just don’t hide behind control. Let them see you, all of you.”
I looked through the sliding glass doors, where Calla and Amiyah were still curled up together, whispering and smiling like they’d built their own little universe.
“I’m trying,” I said quietly. “For them, I really am.”
Maverick nodded, his expression proud and gentle. “Then you’re giving them the best parts of you.”
We sat there a while longer, just breathing in the quiet, the three of them a picture of the kind of love that felt possible now—a love built on choice, trust, and the freedom to exist fully as yourself.
Lately, I didn’t feel like I was holding the world together; instead, I felt like I could be myself, unmasked. I wasn’t afraid to show Calla and Amiyah my flaws and imperfections because they still loved me.
We ended up crashing at Black’s for the night. Calla needed and wanted the comfort of her brothers, and they needed and wanted the comfort of their baby sister, too. Amiyah wasn’t leaving her side, and I refused to end my nights not in bed with the women I loved.
WHERE ONE LIFE ENDS, ONE BEGINS
The world learned about my father’s death before I even had the chance to process it.
Within twenty-four hours, his name was everywhere. Every news outlet, every website, every gossip blog had plastered his face across their screens, using words like ‘tragedy’ and ‘scandal’ in the same sentence.
But it wasn’t the loss that shook Winston Hills and the business world; it was the truth that came out with it.
Caleb Black Sr., once celebrated as a visionary and a titan of industry, had finally been exposed for who he really was. The headlines didn’t hold back. They discussed the domestic violence, the infidelities, the outside children, the manipulation, the years of quiet terror that everyone around him pretended not to see.
Then came the recordings. The hidden cameras his wife had installed after he first put his hands on her.
I thought I was prepared. I wasn’t.
I couldn’t stomach more than a few seconds. Hearing his voice again made my skin crawl. The way he yelled, the way he degraded her, the way she flinched. The brutality and anger he wielded so freely against people he was supposed to love. I knew that sound. I’d lived it, but it was still surreal, seeing him on a screen instead of standing in front of me, yet every cruel word hit just as hard. What broke me most wasn’t what he did, it was how familiar it felt. The cadence of his threats, the calculated tone he used to keep her small. I’d heard those exact words through my bedroom door as a teenager, when he tore into my mother until she went completely silent. I used to think she stayed because she was weak, now I knew she stayed because she was afraid.
When his wife went on national television and told the world everything, I didn’t feel anger; I felt relief.
She didn’t soften it. She didn’t try to make him look good in death. She looked into the camera and told the truth.
She told the world that Caleb Black Sr. was a cruel man who weaponized success, that he hurt every woman he ever touched, that he broke his children’s spirits long before they had the chance to build lives of their own.
