“Uh…” Cora starts, face twisting in a mix of embarrassment and amusement. “Well… I mean—yeah? You set this up so dramatically.”
Her laughter grows, light and teasing, and it softens the tension in the room like sunlight through smoke. “Nope. Not about Matt at all.” She leans back, hands painting the air. “I’m a camgirl.”
Jonathan makes a sound like someone punched the air out of him as Helen presses a hand to her mouth. Da’s eyes widen in pure, unfiltered panic. Bren just mutters, “Christ above,” like he’s praying and swearing at once. Owen’s brows knit, not judgmental, just calculating how he never seen this one coming. Cora squeezes Lily’s arm, jaw set in fierce, unwavering support.
And then I speak, because goddamn, I’m proud of her.
“She’s a camgirl,” I say, shifting close to her side. “And she’s fucking incredible at it. Almost as good as she is at designing clothes. She’s safe, she’s in control. She built a life for herself. You don’t get to judge her for surviving.”
Da rubs a hand down his face. “It’s not that we’re judging… it’s just—Jesus, you could’ve been hurt.”
“I was already hurt,” she fires back. “By all of you.”
Jonathan exhales slowly, like he’s letting years of stubbornness and fear burn out of him. “I don’t understand the… world of it,” he admits quietly. “But you’re right. You don’t need our permission to live your life. And you certainly don’t need our judgment. As long as your safe, I can’t see the harm in it.”
Bren shrugs, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Honestly? I’m just impressed you made money off it. Good for you.”
Da groans. “Jesus Christ, Bren.”
“What? It’s a skill.”
Owen cracks the faintest smile. “She’s an adult, Ciaran. And she’s right—she survived because she had to. That’s all there is to it.”
Helen reaches out, brushing Lily’s arm gently. “You are not less in my eyes. You never were.”
Lily swallows hard, letting their words settle like balm.
And me? I can’t take my eyes off her. She survived hell. She built a life from nothing but grit, ingenuity, and sheer will. She clawed her way through betrayal, isolation, fear, and somehow came out stronger. Fiercer, and yet still soft in the places that matter.
Anyone with something to say about that can deal with me.
Jonathan clears his throat. “Right. If we’re done collectively panicking about Lily’s sex life—”
“We’re not discussing that,” I cut in immediately.
Lily flushes, shaking her head quickly, but laughing softly. “Please… can we not.”
The room relaxes just a fraction, laughter fading into easy exhalations. The tension lingers like smoke, but for the first time, it feels like relief instead of dread.
Da, with that familiar mix of curiosity and exasperation, clears his throat. “Alright,” he starts, voice deceptively casual, “how did you two become… a thing without anyone knowing?”
I glance at Lily, a small smirk tugging at my lips. She raises an eyebrow, that same infuriating way she always does when I look like I might be about to crack a joke.
“Define a thing?” I counter lightly, letting my grin widen.
Da rolls his eyes, sighing like I’m torturing him. “You know what I mean. How long have you been together?”
Lily laughs softly, low and warm beside me. Her hand finds mine again, fingers intertwining like they’ve done a thousand times before. “Four years,” she says, voice quiet but clear. “Well three, if you take away this past year. And we’re done hiding. No secrets, no more marriage contracts. That’s not up for debate.”
“Well, I don’t think we need to worry about that marriage contract anymore.” Da snorts, shaking his head.
“Mate, you were always shit at hiding,” Owen mutters, a smirk tugging at his lips. “If you ask me, the only reason no one noticed was that mess of a ring.”
Jonathan lets a small, fond smile tug at the corner of his mouth. The room, for once, feels lighter, warmer, less like the storm we’ve been weathering for so long.
And in that small, perfect orbit of chaos, loyalty, and quiet love, I let myself breathe. For the first time in years, the weight on my chest loosens. I glance at Lily—her eyes soft, just a hint of mischief lingering—and I realise we’ve finally found our calm.
Jonathan clears his throat, trying to refocus everyone. “It’s time for us to move forward, together. No more shutting each other out. No more assuming the worst. From any of us.”
