Chapter Text
16 years later:
Both sprinted down the mansion’s grand staircase as fast and discreetly as possible, one hand gripping the handrail to steady themselves while the other covered their mouths, stifling laughter fueled by the adrenaline of the moment.
“We're going to get caught!” the young man hissed, his voice teetering between excitement and worry. He paused halfway, stealing a frantic glance over his shoulder.
“Only if you keep shouting like that. Come on, we're almost out,” the young woman shot back, amusement dancing in her eyes as she yanked on his hand, urging him forward.
The moment their feet hit the last step, their pace quickened toward the grand entrance. Their ragged breaths echoed in the silent hallway, and the girl's smile stretched wide—victorious, as if freedom was within reach… until a deliberate throat clearing shattered their momentum.
They froze, eyes widening. Slowly, they turned their heads to the right, where a shadowed figure stood beneath the dim glow of the central chandelier.
“And where exactly do you think you’re going at this hour?” an authoritative voice inquired.
The boy swallowed hard. The girl opened her mouth to respond, but her mind had suddenly gone blank.
“Viva… we can explain,” Poppy finally managed, trying to sound convincing.
“Go ahead,” Viva said coolly, arms crossed, one brow arched. “Because last I checked, this was supposed to be a sleepover. Funny, though—I don’t see any pajamas. So, tell me… where were you planning to go?”
Smidge let out a long sigh, watching her plans crumble. “Actually… we were planning to go to a party,” she admitted, her voice small as she cast her gaze to the floor, shoulders slumping in defeat.
Viva’s frown deepened as she studied them both. “Why didn’t you just say so from the start? Why go through all this trouble pretending it was a sleepover?”
“The sleepover isn’t a lie!” Poppy blurted, throwing up his hands in defense. “We’ll be back as soon as the party’s over. Besides, you know that if we told the truth, Dad wouldn’t have let me go.”
“Please, Viva, let your brother have some fun,” Smidge added, putting on her best pleading expression. “I promise to take good care of him—and keep any girls away. We all know Poppy’s already spoken for.”
The boy nodded quickly, reinforcing the idea with wide, puppy-dog eyes—a tactic that rarely failed against his older sister.
Viva exhaled sharply, tilting her head back as if searching the ceiling for patience. “Fine… but you have to be back before Father wakes up.”
“We know!” they chorused, nodding eagerly, excitement bubbling in their voices.
Viva crossed her arms, still not entirely convinced. “Go,” she relented, though her tone remained firm. “But Poppy, you’d better get some sleep when you’re back. Father won’t be pleased if you’re dozing off during your lessons.”
“I understand! Thank you, Veevs!” Poppy beamed before launching himself into a tight hug.
Viva sighed but returned the embrace. Just as she pulled away, she fixed them both with a final, pointed look. “And one last thing… I never saw you leave the mansion.”
“Of course not! You were fast asleep the whole time.” Smidge and Poppy grinned, replying in perfect unison.
As they slipped through the door, Smidge let out a quiet chuckle. “That was close!”
“Too close,” Poppy admitted, exhaling a breath of relief as he glanced at his best friend.
Smidge grinned. “Come on, let’s get to that party before Viva changes her mind!”
At first, Poppy nodded, his steps light with excitement. But before long, his pace began to slow. His thoughts caught up with him, and a slight frown crept onto his face. He sighed, as if trying to shake off a weight he couldn’t quite name.
Smidge tilted her head. “What’s on your mind?”
Poppy hesitated, then shrugged. “I just… sometimes I wish I wasn’t engaged to a complete stranger.”
Smidge studied him, her playful demeanor giving way to quiet concern. “Do you think it would change anything?”
Poppy let out a soft laugh, but there was no joy in it. “Yeah. For one, I’d be free to fall in love.”
Smidge remained silent, watching as Poppy lifted his gaze to the night sky. His magenta eyes shimmered with a mixture of longing and melancholy.
“When we were kids, we used to dream up all kinds of crazy adventures,” he murmured, a wistful smile tugging at his lips. “And I can’t help but wonder what it would be like—to fall in love. I always imagined it like a lightning strike, something so powerful it shakes you to your core. That one moment where you just… know. Where everything changes because the person in front of you is the one you’re meant to share your life with.”
His smile faded, and his voice dropped to something softer, almost resigned.
“If I ever get to feel that way, it would kill me to know I can’t have it. That my life is already decided for me by an arrangement I had no say in.”
Smidge frowned but didn’t interrupt as he continued.
“I don’t even know what she sounds like, Smidge. I don’t know what makes her laugh or what pisses her off. All I know is that because of this agreement, I’m expected to be the perfect husband. Which means extra lessons, learning how to manage money, run businesses… all because apparently, her family owns some massive empire that I don’t even understand.”
Poppy exhaled, staring at the ground before looking back at Smidge. His voice was quieter now. “Can you imagine? Preparing for a future with someone who’s practically a ghost in your life?”
Smidge reached for his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe she’s a ghost now, but… who knows, Pop. Maybe you’ll end up finding something good in all this.”
Poppy let out a dry chuckle, but there was warmth in his eyes. “I hope so. Because right now? It just feels like a life sentence.”
The two exchanged a knowing glance before continuing on their way, though Poppy’s words lingered in the air like an unshaken weight. The silence between them felt heavy, yet not unwelcome—just the kind that came when there was nothing left to say, only to understand.
Despite her usual carefree nature, Smidge seemed deep in thought, her expression uncharacteristically serious. Finally, she broke the silence. “Pop, I’ve known you forever, and if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that you’re a dreamer. Maybe you can’t change this right now, but…” she hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “You always manage to find something good, even in the messiest situations.”
Poppy looked up, his magenta eyes reflecting both gratitude and quiet sorrow. “Thanks, Smidge, but… this isn’t something I can fix. It’s out of my hands.”
“Maybe you can’t change it,” Smidge admitted. “But that doesn’t mean you have to stop being you. If there’s anything I’ve learned from you, it’s that you always find light, even in the darkest places.”
Poppy exhaled slowly, but this time, his smile wasn’t so bitter. “I appreciate that you have so much faith in me.”
“Always,” Smidge replied with a reassuring grin. Then, with a playful nudge, she added, “But for now, what do you say we stop brooding and just enjoy the party?”
Poppy hesitated for a second before nodding, shaking off the lingering melancholy. “You’re right. I’m not letting this ruin my night.”
With that, they picked up their pace, leaving behind the weight of their conversation as they stepped into the heart of the party. The lights glowed in vibrant hues, and the music pulsed like a living heartbeat—promising an escape, a moment where worries could fade into the rhythm of the night, if only for a little while.
*************************
Branch watched with delight as her nephew, Bruce Jr., played the guitar with remarkable precision and passion. For an eight-year-old, he was astonishingly skilled, his fingers moving fluidly over the strings as if the instrument were an extension of himself. Every note rang out with a special energy, and in his bright, focused eyes, Branch recognized the same love for music that had shaped so much of her own life. It was a gratifying sight—not just because of his talent, but because she had helped nurture it. Their lessons together weren’t just about technique; they had deepened their bond, creating a connection that spoke through melodies rather than words.
Her quiet moment of pride, however, was abruptly interrupted by a small tug on her hand. She looked down to find LaBreezey gazing up at her, her eyes shimmering with excitement and hope.
“Auntie Branch,” she asked sweetly, “can we play princesses?”
Branch barely had time to process the request before another voice cut in—loud and brimming with enthusiasm.
“Boring! Let’s play with the squirt guns instead!” Rainy declared, already bouncing with anticipation. “That’ll be way more fun!”
Before Branch could respond, a chorus of voices erupted around her. One nephew shouted about superheroes, another insisted on building a cushion fort, while yet another demanded a pirate adventure in the garden. The ideas clashed, each child trying to outdo the others, their excitement escalating into a full-blown storm of competing demands.
Branch’s head darted from one eager face to another, her frown deepening as the noise swelled. She wanted to please them all, but their relentless energy was quickly overwhelming her. How was she supposed to choose when every suggestion was met with another, louder one?
Then, just as the chaos reached its peak, a calm yet authoritative voice sliced through the commotion.
“All right, little tornadoes! Give your Aunt Branch a break.”
Brandy’s presence was like a lifeline in the whirlwind. Instantly, the children—though reluctant—began to settle under her watchful gaze, their arguments tapering off into playful grumbles as they dispersed.
Branch exhaled in relief, running a hand across her forehead as if she had just finished a marathon. “Thank you, Brandy. I really needed that,” she said, offering a tired but grateful smile.
Brandy chuckled knowingly. “Don’t mention it. That’s just life with kids. But you know what? They adore you. To them, you’re the perfect mix of music teacher and playmate.”
Branch tilted her head slightly, touched by her words. “It’s mutual. I love spending time with them... I just wish I were better at keeping up with their energy.”
Brandy grinned and gave her a playful wink. “It’s all about practice. Now, why don’t you sit back and relax? I’ll handle these little monsters for a while.”
Branch sank into the couch with a contented sigh, watching her family with a relaxed smile. Bruce Jr. remained in the corner, fingers dancing over the guitar strings, lost in his own world of melody. Meanwhile, the other kids buzzed around, debating the next game with the same intensity as seasoned strategists.
Despite the exhaustion tugging at her limbs, Branch felt something warm settle in her chest. This chaos—loud, relentless, and unpredictable—was also love in its purest form. Her nephews and niece were a whirlwind of energy, but they were also her inspiration, her joy. A newfound spark lit in her eyes as she pushed herself up from the couch.
“Brandy, you know what? I think I can handle a little more chaos.”
Brandy raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised, but her lips curled into a proud smile. “That’s the spirit!”
Branch turned to the kids, clapping her hands to get their attention. “Okay, listen up! What if we mix all your ideas together? How about… pirate princesses with squirt guns battling superheroes in a fortress of cushions?”
A beat of silence. Then, an eruption of cheers. Without hesitation, Branch dove into the chaos. Laughter echoed through the courtyard as they ran, jumped, and engaged in the most dramatic battles imaginable. There were heroic rescues, daring escapes, and the occasional squabble that always ended in giggles. Even as the sun dipped below the horizon, the energy never wavered—except for Bruce Jr., who remained completely engrossed in his guitar, unfazed by the mayhem around him.
By the time dinner rolled around, the kids were spent, their movements slowing as exhaustion crept in. One by one, they were herded off to bed, their excited murmurs fading into peaceful silence.
Branch collapsed back onto the couch, letting out a long exhale as she closed her eyes. For the first time all day, the house was still.
A few minutes later, a gentle hand rested on her shoulder. She cracked one eye open to see Brandy standing there, a knowing smile on her face as she held out a glass of wine.
Branch took it without hesitation, murmuring a quiet “Bless you.” Brandy chuckled before sinking onto the couch beside her with a weary sigh.
“I don’t know how you do this every day,” Branch admitted, swirling the liquid in her glass as if it were some sort of survival trophy.
Brandy smirked, stretching out her legs. “You get used to it. My little whirlwinds keep me on my toes, but I won’t complain about having backup. It’s nice having you around while Bruce is away.”
Branch nodded, taking a slow sip. “You know you can always count on me. Though, now that you mention it… any idea when JD and Bruce are coming back?”
Brandy hummed in thought. “If I remember correctly… in about three days.”
Branch lowered her gaze, absentmindedly swirling the wine in her glass. The liquid caught the dim light, reflecting the storm of thoughts swirling in her mind.
The silence stretched between them until Brandy broke it with a gentle but direct question. “Want to tell me what's on your mind?”
Branch hesitated, her voice quiet, as if she were speaking more to herself than to Brandy. “It’s just… I wish I could’ve gone with them. It’s not that I don’t enjoy staying here, helping with the kids, but—”
Brandy cut in softly, her tone understanding. “I get it, Branch. I know how hard it is for you to stay back while your brothers are out there, even if it’s just for business.”
Branch let out a dry chuckle, shaking her head. “Business trips, which, might I remind you, are part of a family business.”
Brandy studied her, tilting her head slightly. “And you don’t feel like you’re part of that?”
Branch exhaled, taking another sip before answering, her voice thick with emotion. “It’s not that. I know my brothers try to include me in their own way. Clay lets me help with administration and finances sometimes. JD, Bruce, and Floyd have been patient, teaching me about customer service and partnerships. But…” she hesitated, searching for the right words. “You have no idea how much I cherish the rare times John has let me travel with him. Out there, I feel alive—seeing new places, learning, experiencing things firsthand. When I was little, JD used to take me along all the time. But as I got older… those special trips became fewer and farther between. And even if none of my brothers dare to admit it, I can’t shake the feeling that it all changed the moment they decided I needed to become the perfect wife.”
Brandy’s voice was soft, thoughtful. “So what is it you really long for, Branch?”
Branch let out a quiet laugh—one devoid of humor, laced instead with frustration and longing. “I want the chance to have my own adventures, to make my own choices, to write my own story.” She paused, her voice dropping even lower. “Instead of being tied to someone I never chose. To a marriage I never wanted.”
Brandy studied her for a moment, weighing her response. When she finally spoke, her words were careful. “What if… you end up falling in love with that person? I know it sounds impossible now, but maybe, in time, something real could grow.”
Branch huffed a small, bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Love?” she repeated, her tone laced with disbelief. “Brandy, I’m not looking to fall in love—not like this. Not under these circumstances.” Her grip tightened slightly around her glass. “What I really want is freedom. The freedom to choose my own path, to decide for myself who I love and how I want to live. I don’t want my future dictated by someone else’s decisions. I don’t want to be bound to a fate I never agreed to.”
The weight of her words settled heavily between them, lingering like an unshakable shadow. Branch exhaled sharply, then turned to Brandy with a raised eyebrow, her voice laced with dry irony. “Do you know why Bruce always asks me to watch the kids or stay with you?”
Brandy tilted her head, intrigued. “I have an idea, but go on.”
Branch let out a hollow laugh, the sound filled with resignation. “He’s training me—to be a good mother. So when the time comes for me to have my own kids, I’ll already know what to do.”
Brandy’s brow lifted in surprise, but she remained silent, letting Branch speak.
“You know what the worst part is?” Branch continued, her voice quieter now, as if admitting the truth to herself for the first time. “I don’t even know if I want kids… let alone with someone I barely know.”
The confession hung in the air, heavy and raw. Brandy studied her, a flicker of sadness and regret passing through her gaze before she finally spoke.
“Branchie…” Her tone was gentle but steady. “For what it’s worth, you’re the best aunt my kids could ever ask for. And I know, without a doubt, that you’d be an amazing mother—even if this isn’t the life you would have chosen.”
Branch gave a small smile, though it barely reached her eyes. “Thanks, Brandy.”
Brandy sighed and leaned forward, placing a comforting hand over Branch’s. “I know it’s unfair. And believe me, I understand your frustration. But you also know why this marriage was arranged. It’s not just about you—it’s about peace, about our families, about stability.” She hesitated for a moment before adding, “I’m not telling you to give up, Branch. You’re stronger than you think. If anyone can find a way to carve out their own happiness in all of this… it’s you.”
Branch released a shaky breath, her tense shoulders easing just slightly at Brandy’s words. “Thank you. For listening… and for telling me the truth, even when it hurts.”
Brandy gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll always be here for you, Branchie. No matter what happens.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. They simply sat together in quiet understanding—two women bound by family, by circumstance, and by the unspoken promise that, no matter how uncertain the road ahead might be, Branch wouldn’t have to walk it alone.