Page 21 of Taboo
“I’ve missed you,” she said quietly. “This house feels too big without you in it.”
“I’ve missed you, too.” My throat tightened. “I know this has been hard on you and Dad. I never wanted to hurt either of you. I just… I love him, Mom. I love him in a way I can’t walk away from.”
Mom’s eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t let them fall. She squeezed my hand tighter. “I know you do. And I’m trying to understand. It’s just… he’s family, Juliet. Your father’s step-brother. It’s going to take time for him to wrap his head around it. For all of us.” She let out a shaky breath. “But you’re still my daughter. That hasn’t changed. I love you even when I don’t understand everything that goes on in your life. You’re an adult, and you can decide how you live it.”
We talked for a long time after that, not about fixing everything but about how we were doing. I told her how scared I felt sometimes. She told me how worried she was. My mom didn’t agree with my choices, but she listened. When I finally stood up to leave, she pulled me into another tight hug.
“Be safe,” she whispered. “And come home when you’re ready. Both of you.”
I was on the verge of tears—happy ones—when I stepped off the porch and saw Bastian and my dad still on the dock. They weren’t laughing or joking, but they were working side by side. When Bastian saw me, he straightened up and wiped his hand on a rag. Dad glanced over, his expression complicated, but he didn’t look away. In fact, he smiled softly and lifted his hand to give me a little wave.
That gave me the courage to head down there. My hands shook, and my knees felt like they were filled with pudding, but I felt stronger than ever.
“The engine should be good now,” Bastian said to my dad, his voice careful. “Let me know if it acts up again.”
Dad gave a short nod. “Thanks.” His voice wasn’t exactly warm, but it wasn't hostile, either. It was a tiny crack in the wall that had felt impossible to move.
Bastian glanced at me. He must have seen something in my face because he gave a small nod like he understood. “I’ll go check on that fuel filter in the shed,” he said quietly, already stepping back. “Take your time.”
He walked away without looking back, giving us the privacy I didn’t know how to ask for.
I stood there on the dock, the lake stretching out behind my dad like it had for my whole life. For a long moment, neither of us spoke, and the silence felt like a huge gap.
“Dad…” My voice cracked before I even got started. I swallowed hard and tried again. “I know you’re angry and upset. I just… I need you to know that I never did this to hurt anyone.”
He stared at the water, mouth tight, hands gripping the railing like he needed something solid to hold onto. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough and low, like every word cost him something.
“You’re my little girl, Juliet. I used to carry you on my shoulders right here on this dock. I used to think my job was to keep you safe from the world.” He let out a shaky breath. “I love my brother, but he’s the one person I never thought I needed to keep you away from. And now… I don’t know how to look at you without seeing what he took from me.”
Tears spilled down my cheeks before I could stop them. “He didn’t take anything from you, Dad. I chose him, and I know that hurts you, but I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m old enough to know who I love, and that’s Bastian. It’s the kind of love that makes me want to build a life with him even if it’s hard for everyone else to understand.”
Dad’s gaze finally met mine. They were glassy, full of pain and confusion and a love that hadn’t gone away even if it was buried under everything else.
“I keep asking myself where I went wrong,” he said, voice breaking. “Did I not protect you enough? Did I not show you what a good man looks like? Because Bastian… he’s my step-brother, and I love him, but he’s also the guy who’s always leaving when things get hard. He has a lot of darkness he buries from all the shit he’s seen in his life. And now he’s with my daughter. How am I supposed to be okay with that?”
“He’s a good man, Dad.”
My father exhaled and nodded. “I know he is. And even though I rag on him and I said some hateful shit, he’s always been there for the family when we needed him. He alwayshas our backs and is willing to help anyone. It’s just… hard, sweetheart.”
I brushed a tear from my eye and nodded. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” I said, answering his earlier question. “You raised me to know what love feels like. And with him… it feels like home. Bastian makes me feel safe in a way no one else ever has. I know it’s complicated and a lot of people–maybe everyone–thinks it’s wrong, but I’ve never felt anything more right before. It’s real, Dad, and I’m asking you to try to see that. Not today or tomorrow or on some schedule. But eventually, I hope you can be happy for us.”
He looked at me, eyes still shining with unshed tears. Then he reached out and pulled me into a hug that felt like it had been waiting for me my entire life. It wasn’t perfect, and his arms were stiff at first like he was still fighting with himself. But he held me, and I held him back just as tight. We both needed this moment more than anything else right now.
“I love you, honey,” he said against my hair, voice thick. “That will never change even if I don’t know how to do this yet.”
“I love you, too,” I whispered, crying into his shirt.
“We’ll figure it out, honey. It’ll all be fine. I want you to be happy.”
We stood there on the dock for a long time, the lake quiet around us, neither of us ready to let go just yet. I knew all wasn’t right, and nothing was fully fixed. I knew things would never be back to “normal”. But it was a start, and right now, that was enough.
The drive back to the cabin was quiet, but it was a different kind of silence. It was one filled with hopefulness. When we got inside, Bastian pulled me into his arms and kissed me slow and deep, like he needed to remind himself we were still okay.
I slid down his body and dropped to me knees in front of him. Carefully, reverently, I removed his cock from his pants, my eyes locked on his.
“You don’t?—”
“I want to.”
