Not a perfect one. But ours.
twenty-five
Dorian
Iwakeat4AM, my mind refusing to let me rest.
Vespera is pressed against my side, her breathing deep and even. Corvus has one arm draped over her waist from behind. Oakley is on her other side, far enough away that I can barely see him in the darkness.
"Call him tonight," Vespera had said by the pool. "Make amends with the people you hurt, starting with your brother."
I've been thinking about it all evening. Through dinner. Through the quiet hour we spent on the couch, Vespera reading while Corvus worked on his laptop. Through the shower. Through climbing into bed.
And now I can't sleep.
I slip out carefully, not wanting to wake any of them. The house is dark and silent as I make my way down the hall. Not to my old room—that feels too heavy, too full of ghosts. Instead,I find myself in one of the spare bedrooms, the one with the window that overlooks the lake.
I sit on the edge of the bed and pull out my phone.
Julian's contact is still there. I never deleted it, even after my parents made it clear that communication with him was forbidden. I just... stopped calling. Stopped texting. Let him think I'd chosen their side.
Maybe I had.
My thumb hovers over his name for a full minute before I force myself to tap it.
It rings. Once. Twice. Three times.
He's not going to answer. It's 4 AM and he doesn't recognize the number anymore and—
"Hello?"
The voice is Julian's, but older. Rougher. Cautious in a way my brother never used to be.
"Julian." My throat closes around his name. "It's Dorian."
Silence. Long enough that I wonder if he's hung up.
"Dorian." He says it flat. No emotion. Like he's testing how the name feels after years of not saying it. "It's four in the morning."
"I know. I'm sorry. I just—" I run my hand through my hair. "I needed to call. Before I lost my nerve."
"After six years of radio silence, you suddenly need to call at 4 AM?" There's an edge to his voice now. Hurt buried under anger. "What do you want? Is someone dead?"
"No. Everyone's fine. Physically." I take a breath. "I wanted to apologize."
Another silence. I hear rustling, like he's sitting up in bed.
"Apologize," he repeats. "For what specifically? Abandoning me when our parents disowned me? Never returning my calls? Letting them erase me from the family like I never existed? You're going to need to be more specific, Dorian."
Each word is a knife, precise and deserved.
"All of it." My voice cracks. "I'm sorry for all of it. You needed me and I wasn't there. I was too afraid of ending up like you to—"
"To what? Be a decent brother? Be a decent person?"
"Yes." The admission burns. "I was seventeen and terrified and I chose wrong. I chose their approval over you. And then I spent the next six years convincing myself it was the right choice. That you were weak for choosing Marcus over the family. That what you did was selfish."
"It was selfish," Julian says quietly. "And it was also the best decision I ever made."
