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Outcast’s Return

Page 147

by Rebecca Castle

“The last time you said that,” Baptiste replies, “was when I walked away with another million heavy in my pocket.”

“Not this time,” Clement retorts boldly.

And it is bold. Baptiste usually wins.

“Stay out of my way, boys,” I say. “Tonight, I’m playing to dominate.”

My friends scoff.

Whiskey is poured. Glasses are clinked. And the dealer shuffles the cards.

I look over at the men sitting around the table. We’ve done so much together ever since we first met in the school library. Together, we have overcome everything life has had to throw at us, and we’ve taken control of our own destinies.

We have each other, and now we have love.

Clement and Elise.

Baptiste and Sylvie.

Jolie and I.

My brotherhood. It’s been an honor to see us grow and succeed.

Everything is going to be okay.

I sit back and smile, feeling the weight of it all.

And I feel him watching from above, and I take a moment to reflect...

This is your legacy, Father.

EPILOGUE

JOLIE

We marry at Fabien’s art gallery. It’s the perfect venue.

I’m wearing a gown custom-designed for me. Clement had it all organized. My brother told me he wanted me to look my best on my wedding day. I didn’t even have to lift a finger, except for giving my own suggestions.

“You deserve this,” he told me as I emerged from the changing room after trying it on. “Fabien deserves this. You look beautiful, sis.”

I glance down at the white. It makes me feel strong, and ready, and yet soft.

Before the wedding, I had a weekend getaway with Elise and Sylvie to a vineyard. Fabien has his brotherhood, and we now have a sisterhood. The girls and I drank and danced and shared stories about our impossible husbands. Over many glasses of wine, Elise recounted, in hilarious detail, how my brother wooed her at her gym despite all her efforts to turn him off. Sylvie revealed how Baptiste was brought to heel by her ice queen ways. I divulged all the little secret childhood meetings Fabien and I shared, and how the intensity completely changed years later as adults. We bonded over cheeseboards and gossip. And I feel safe. Loved.

I feel like I belong to something.

And now, at the custom altar in the middle of the art gallery, I look at my husband. Fabien smiles back. His expression changes into awe as he takes me in my dress. His composure falls away. There’s definitely no more hate, and no more regret. Just us two kids stumbling in the dark, but now in front of everyone we love. As if fate has willed this moment into existence.

No more hiding.

No more secrets.

This girl who once ran from him. This boy who once hated her.

Now we stand opposite each other. In love.

The gallery is lit by candles. There are flowers placed next to priceless art. There are Juniper Wren pieces hanging all around us.