Page 145 of Discretion at Its Finest

My mouth thinned into a line, forcing myself not to speak again. I didn’t tell her he’d be coming tonight… that I’d convinced him using the one phrase he couldn’t refuse.

It’s just Christmas.I told him just like I did every year, every holiday, every celebration, wanting more than just the occasional pop-ins from my sister-in-law and niece.It’ll be just family… Come please, for me?

I didn’t tell him our mother would be coming either. If she knew… if he knew… everything would crack before it even had a chance to mend.

A thin thread of dread wound tight through my chest and around my throat.

Not only did I have to process the fact that my father was still alive, I was going to spend the rest of the evening mentally preparing for whatever version of Eugene would walk through the door. The guarded soldier. The wounded child. The man who wanted to disappear. The brother who always argued but stayed anyway.

Tonight could change everything… and I had no idea if it would heal us or break us for good.

Chapter fifty-five

Genevieve

Ihadn’t expected to feel… welcome after the tension from earlier.

But Brielle had insisted we stay.

So as a result, Reid and I spent the afternoon drifting through the estate like we belonged there, helping Delilah roll out the last of the cookie dough, handing sprinkles to the toddlers as they made an absolute mess of the kitchen island, laughing quietly as they tackled the well-known Uncle Santa Blaine, who had two shots of tequila before changing into a Santa hat, red pants and boots.

The children loved him, Killian asked him multiple times to put a shirt on, and his wife Maia stayed attached to his hip, supplying… body glitter and sporting a red nose? It was a rather peculiar sight, one Brielle had to explain was a tradition amongst the family. But I loved every chaotic minute of it.

For a few hours, I let myself pretend we belonged.

Reid stayed close, his hand brushing my back when the kitchen got crowded, his shoulder a warm anchor against mine whenever the room felt too full.

It had been peaceful.

It had almost been easy coming back. I knew there was still a lot unsaid, still things Reid, Brielle and I had to discuss, but in this moment… everything felt okay, almost right. But my heart ached at the one thing, the one person who was missing from all of this.

A heavy, deliberate knock cut straight through the hum of conversation happening down the hall in the living room. I glanced over from my spot in the kitchen to see Reginald opening the door, assisting a young girl into the home, her mother hugging Reginald as she followed suit. Brielle stood immediately from the corner of my eye, and I furrowed my brows as she walked over hastily, pulling her cardigan taut around herself.

Thenheappeared, closing the door behind him, dusting off his coat filled with flurries as he pulled off his gloves.

My heart stuttered in my chest.

Eugene.

He was so tall. It was the first thing I noticed. Shoulders broad as he filled the entirety of the doorway. Same soft eyes, but his jaw was now sharp, facial features showing off the tough exterior he’d built over the years.

He was no longer the little boy who ran to me every chance he got, who tucked his head into my neck when he was sleepy or reached for my hand in the dark.

But in his sharp but soft eyes… I could still see my son.

I didn’t think he’d come, didn’t think he’d want to see me or Reid. But then… he did. And for one treacherous, stupid moment I let myself think maybe Brielle had told him.

But as I watched her walk to him quickly, diverting his attention with a hug, a knot formed in the pit of my stomach.

“Eugene…” she began, “so glad you could make it.”

He gave a gentle smile. “You don’t exactly give me much of a choice with these things.”

He shrugged off his coat, handing it to Reginald, who was now making his way to the coat area. Then, his expression shifted, sharpened almost.

“Saw an extra car in the roundabout,” he muttered, subtle and attentive. From the moment he stepped in, his eyes had already scanned the room. He was always observing. It could’ve been a habit, something he picked up from the military.

Brielle’s fingers twisted together.