San Sequoia
Seaglass Haven
The SUV rolled to a stop in the long, familiar drive of Seaglass Haven, the late‑afternoon sun turning the house into a warm, glowing silhouette against the San Sequoia coastline. The windows caught the light like gold leaf, the whole place looking exactly as Briar Rose always remembered it when away from home, touring or visiting elsewhere — elegant, timeless, curated, impossibly welcoming.
She exhaled slowly, palms pressed against her thighs to steady herself. Brad glanced over, offering a small, steadying smile — the kind that said we’re doing this together, the kind that had always been her undoing.
Before either of them could speak, the back door flew open.
Nate launched himself out of the car like a shot.
“GRANDMAAA!” he yelled, already sprinting up the path, backpack bouncing, pure joy in motion.
Brad huffed a soft laugh. “Well. No turning back now.”
Briar Rose swallowed. “Guess not.”
They stepped out together — Brad closing his door with a quiet, deliberate click, Briar Rose smoothing her hair, both of them taking a moment to brace themselves. This wasn’t just Bri coming home after a fight with her twin sister. This was the beginning of a conversation that would change everything.
They walked up the path side by side. Their hands brushed once, twice — her fingers playing with his until he took her hand decisively, a silent underline beneath a choice already made.
The front door swung open before they reached it.
Hailey stood framed in the doorway, looking impossibly young — glossy warm‑blonde hair falling in soft waves around her beautiful face, bright blue eyes bright with recognition. She had that ageless, effortless beauty that made strangers assume she was Briar Rose’s older sister, not her mother. Chase appeared behind her, equally youthful, equally composed, radiating that supernatural grace that came from many decades of being exactly who they were.
Nate barreled into Hailey’s arms, and she caught him easily, lifting him with the strength of someone who hadn’t aged in decades.
“My sweet boy!” she laughed, spinning him once. “You didn’t tell me you were coming!”
“It’s a surprise! So… SURPRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISE!” Nate announced proudly. “Daddy said we’re here for important grown‑up stuff! Grandpa: BOO!!”
Chase clutched his chest dramatically, staggering back in a theatrical near‑heart‑attack that made Nate shriek with laughter.
Hailey’s eyes flicked to Briar Rose and Brad — warm, perceptive, already reading the emotional weather.
“Important, hmm?” she murmured as she lowered Nate to the ground.
The boy immediately took off inside, and a loud “Surpriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiise!” echoed through the house, followed by Connor’s laughter.
Briar Rose managed a small smile as she and Brad traded hugs with her parents and stepped inside. “Very important, Mom.”
Before she could say more, a high‑pitched squeal erupted from inside.
“MOMMY!”
Eden came flying out of the living room, curls bouncing, arms wide. Briar Rose dropped to her knees just in time to catch her, hugging her tight as Eden wrapped her arms around her neck with the fierce, breathless devotion only toddlers possess.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Briar Rose whispered, kissing her cheek. “I missed you so much.”
Eden clung to her, warm and wiggly. “Gamma said you were coming home today! I drew you a picture!”
“Oh, I can’t wait to see.”
Chase stepped forward, ruffling Nate’s hair and brushing a gentle hand over Eden’s back. “Thanks for returning her, Brad. Was way too quiet and peaceful here without you,” he said to Briar Rose, grinning and winking as he hugged his daughter, then patting Brad on the shoulder with that effortless Cameron warmth.
Inside, the house was alive with voices — Briony at the dining table pretending not to stare, Connor and Keira uncorking wine with elegant, inhuman precision, Chris and Cadie whispering on the loveseat, Iris and Jasper emerging from the kitchen in a swirl of dramatic energy and questionable casserole.
“The lost daughter returns! Praise be, glory be!” Jasper smirked, pulling Bri into a bear hug, eyeing Brad in a way that told Brad Jasper already knew what was coming but was playing his role as usual. Always the actor, always the showman — few realized that beneath that constantly teasing, joking exterior lay a heart of gold and a very sharp mind.
The kitchen was already buzzing with Cameron‑family noise — wine being poured, chairs scraping, Nate chattering at Connor and Chris, Eden showing Cadie her glitter bracelet. But beneath the warmth, a thin thread of tension still hummed between the twins.
Iris kept averting her gaze. Briar Rose felt it like static.
Finally, Iris cleared her throat. “Bri… can I talk to you? Under four eyes.”
Briar Rose’s first instinct was to say later. Later, when she wasn’t bracing for the biggest announcement of her life. Later, when she wasn’t still raw.
But Iris’s face — stubborn, guarded, familiar — made her exhale.
She nodded toward the patio. “Okay.”
They stepped outside. The door clicked shut behind them. Silence settled — heavy, expectant, edged with everything unsaid.
Iris spoke first.
“You’re here to tell us you’re leaving again, aren’t you? To be with him.”
Briar Rose let out a long breath, then nodded. “Yes.”
Iris didn’t flinch. “Well, you’re welcome.”
Briar Rose blinked. “What?”
Iris looked her dead in the eye. “You’re welcome. Had I not delivered my swift kick in your ass, you’d still be sitting around here somewhere, sulking, choking on a decision. I helped that perpetual shit‑or‑get‑off‑the‑pot moment. You were on that pot so long it created suction. Now you’re off.”
Briar Rose grimaced. “Gross, but… thank you, I guess. You really hurt me though, Iris.”
“Truth hurts,” Iris said simply. “As does love. Love with feeling, sis. I said nothing untrue, just inconvenient.”
“Okay maybe, but did it have to be proclaimed publicly like that? You couldn’t have just — oh, I don’t know — taken me aside to talk like a normal adult?”
Iris turned fully toward her. “Publicly? You mean in front of our family and Jackson, all of whom know you and I said nothing new to them? And no, I couldn’t have. Because that’s what we’ve all been doing for years. You don’t hear us then. Or you forget what we said. Now you heard me. And it was unforgettable.”
“Wait, so you wanted me to choose Brad? Then why the heck were you so pro‑Jackson?”
“’Cause I like him and like you, we were always fooled again by the Hallmark moments between you two, forgetting this will never be going anywhere good. Jas and I were always rooting for him, for you, but it was always obvious — more and more so after each new failed attempt — that this thing with you just has no legs. And I really don’t like my sister to spend the rest of her life being some cowboy’s booty call.”
Briar Rose stared at her — stubborn, infuriating, beloved Iris — then shook her head, smiling despite herself. She reached out and pulled her twin into a hug.
“Oh, come here, you bitch.”
Iris snorted. “Well, I never claimed not to be one, plus I am the older sister, so naturally I feel protective of you.”
“By a few minutes!”
“Still counts, baby sis.”
Briar Rose giggled, then kissed her sister’s cheek. “I love you, Iris.”
“I love you back, Bri.”
The patio door flew open.
Jasper burst out, clapping dramatically, pretending to sob. “Oh my GOD, reconciliation! My girls are BACK! Love, everywhere. So much love.”
Before either twin could react, he wrapped them both in a bear hug and began planting loud, obnoxious kisses all over their faces.
“Jasper—!” “Stop—!” “Get OFF—!”
“I am trying, hold still!” he retorted.
They wrestled him off, all three of them laughing.
Briar Rose wiped her cheek. “Eew, Iris, your husband is a very sloppy kisser. One out of ten stars.”
“Tell me about it,” Iris said. “Took forever to get him housetrained.”
Jasper immediately dropped to all fours and began play‑humping their legs, panting like a deranged dog.
“JASPER!” “STOP IT!” “YOU NEED MEDS AND A PADDED ROOM!”
Snorting for laughter, they all collapsed into a ridiculous tangle of limbs and chaos — the kind of mess only the three of them could create.
Still breathless from laughing, the trio finally disentangled themselves and stepped back inside. The warm kitchen light washed over them, and the room collectively paused — because even without knowing what had happened on the patio, everyone could feel the shift.
The tension was gone. The twins were whole again. Jasper looked smug about it.
Hailey arched a brow. “Everything alright out there?”
“Peachy,” Iris said, smoothing her hair like she hadn’t just been tackled by her husband.
“Weirdly therapeutic,” Briar Rose added.
“Tantric,” Jasper corrected, wrapping one arm around each twin. “I just had a threesome with twins out there and nobody is clapping.”
“Sit down, Jas,” Connor said dryly, shoving his brother‑in‑law toward a chair. “Before someone neuters you. Helps fix misbehavior in male animals.”
Jasper gasped. “Rude. Accurate. But rude.”
Chairs scraped as everyone settled around the long dining table. Nate climbed into Brad’s lap, already stealing bites of bread with the stealth of a seasoned Cameron child. Eden pressed herself against Briar Rose’s side, tiny fingers curled around her mother’s arm. Briony watched her mother with sharp, searching eyes. Chris and Cadie whispered conspiratorially. Keira poured wine with elegant precision. Chase leaned back, observing everything with that ageless, unreadable calm.
Brad sat close enough that his knee brushed Briar Rose’s under the table — a small, grounding point of contact.
Hailey set down the last serving dish, wiped her hands on a linen towel, and gave Briar Rose that look while calling out, “Let’s eat!”
The look that said: Whatever you were going to say tonight, do it now while everyone is stuffing their faces.
Briar Rose’s heart thudded once, hard.
She stood, clinking her fork to her wineglass.
The room quieted instantly — not out of fear, but because Camerons knew when something real was about to be said.
Well… mostly quieted.
Because even as every head turned toward Briar Rose, the feeding frenzy continued in true Cameron fashion. Chairs scraped. Silverware clinked. Someone passed the bread basket with a thump. Nate was whisper‑negotiating with Connor for an extra roll. Jasper was already chewing loudly. Keira was slicing something with vampiric precision. Plates slid across the table. A bottle of wine glugged as Chase refilled glasses without looking away from Bri.
It was a strange, chaotic symphony — half attention on Briar Rose, half on the food, all of it unmistakably Cameron.
She looked around the table — at her parents, her siblings, her children, their children, at Jasper who was practically another sibling and her best friend, and at Brad, the man she had loved for over half her life — and felt the truth rise in her chest like a tide.
“I, um… I asked everyone to come tonight because I have something important to tell you.”
“Yeah, we kinda figured that,” Iris called out. “Jas and I didn’t spend two hours in weekend commuter traffic to come here and worship the ground you walk on. So, land the plane already, sis.”
Brad’s hand found hers under the table. She didn’t look at him, but she held on.
“I didn’t just come back home,” she said softly.
A ripple of tension moved through the room.
Briony sat up straighter. Connor’s brows knit. Iris leaned forward. Jasper froze mid‑sip.
Briar Rose inhaled.
“Or better: I am not staying.”
A fork clattered against a plate — sharp, metallic, unmistakable. Someone sucked in a breath. A chair creaked as someone leaned forward too fast. Even Jasper’s chewing stopped mid‑bite, his jaw hanging open.
The room didn’t go silent so much as freeze, the sounds of dinner suspended in midair.
“As you all already figured by now,” Briar Rose continued, voice steady despite the thundering in her chest, “Brad and I are back together. It’s serious, and I’m going home. I will be moving back to Brindleton Bay.”
Silence.
Not shocked — just heavy. Like everyone was recalibrating at once.
Briony was the first to speak. “Like… permanently?”
“Yes, baby,” Briar Rose said gently. “And I know that means you and I will see less of each other. I didn’t discuss this yet with your grandparents, and while you do have a choice, I am sure if you want to stay, you can.”
Brad didn’t speak — he didn’t need to. His thumb brushed her knuckles under the table, steady and sure.
Briony swallowed, eyes shining but steady. “Umm, yeah. I love you, Mom. And you, Brad. Last time we did this I loved living in the Bay, and I think it would be so cool again to hang with Lauren more. But… last time I wasn’t in high school yet. My life is here. My friends, my boyfriend, school. So, yeah, I want to stay if that’s an option.”
“Of course it is. No question,” Chase said plainly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.
Briar Rose nodded, throat tight. “I figured. And that’s okay. I’ll come back often, we’ll FaceTime. Not like this family isn’t used to being split up and scattered.”
Hailey reached across the table, squeezing Briar Rose’s hand. “Sweetheart… are you sure? Seems a bit… fast.”
“Yes,” Briar Rose said. “For the first time in years, I’m sure.”
Connor exhaled slowly. “Then we support you, sis. Like we always have.”
Keira nodded. “I second my hubby.”
Jasper raised his glass. “I guess this is goodbye then.”
Iris smacked his arm. “Jasper.”
“What? I’m celebrating personal growth and Bri returning to the land of our roots. She, Iris, and I were born there, just like the B‑Man. And I am not hating having to drop in at your fancy estate in the B.Bay for the occasional hop down memory lane with you guys. We can suntan our privates on Brad’s private beach, watch Maeve deal with her mother living with her like a live soap opera, and TP Iris’s ex‑boyfriend’s home.”
Laughter rippled around the table — soft, relieved, real.
Then Hailey’s gaze shifted to the little girl pressed against Briar Rose’s side.
“And Eden?”
Briar Rose looked down at her daughter — her baby — who was watching her with wide, trusting eyes.
“She’s coming with me,” Briar Rose said. “Jackson never filed for rights. He has been an absentee kind of father and honestly, with him so pissed right now, I don’t know how to let him see her. He barely stops his truck long enough to let Beau get out and grab his things for the visits. I am not letting him scar a toddler like that. Brad and I talked. He wants to adopt her. I think it’s best for my daughter.”
The room melted.
Connor clapped Brad’s shoulder. Keira smiles, Iris’ grimaced a nodded approval. Jasper pretended to sob again. Briony smiled — small, sad, proud.
Hailey leaned back, eyes soft. “Sounds like we got a plan.”
But Connor wasn’t done.
“There’s something you should know,” he said quietly. “About Jackson.”
The room stilled again.
“Yesterday he picked up Savannah,” Connor said. “No warning. Didn’t call. Just showed up and took her to the ranch.”
Briar Rose’s breath caught. “What?”
“He didn’t even take her toys. Or her clothes,” Keira whispered. “Just… her. For good.”
A cold ache spread through Briar Rose’s chest. “Oh my God. Keira… I’m so sorry.”
“This isn’t on you,” Hailey said firmly. “Jackson is making his own choices. Jury’s still out on how we all feel about it.”
Jasper muttered, “I tell you how I personally feel about it. Next time I see that man, I’m losing a shoe up his ass! What’s wrong with him? I love the dude, but this is seriously shitty. And I will tell him so, next time I see the dude. Like WTF, man?”
“Jasper,” Iris warned.
“I said what I said. Imagine someone came by and just took Tate.”
“Well, first of all, I am his biological mother, while Connor and Keira were only fostering under a private agreement with the father, so I have every legal right to my child while they do not, which means if anyone were dumb enough to try and take my son anywhere without my consent, they would meet Jesus. But Savannah is Jackson’s kid, and he is fully within his rights. And honestly, I think we all agree we wanted him to be more involved. Now he has no choice.”
“Why are you so ra‑ra Jackson, Aunt Iris? I mean, legal or not, we can all agree the circumstance doesn’t justify his means here,” Chris lamented.
“I am not ra‑ra Jackson, Chris, but a reasonable adult. And I am stating the law, seeing how I am a lawyer and it’s my bread and butter. And I honestly am not a fan of some collective anti‑Jackson hate campaigning here. I mean, he’s got flaws, plenty of them, but he is a straight‑up guy when he can think straight — which we also all know he always has a hard time with when Bri gave him the boot again. I am not dismissing the Brad & Bri reunion here, happy for you both, but we all should cut Jackson some slack. He is still a member of this family, still the father of some of my nieces and nephews, and I mean, that adoption thing is a bit harsh, Bri and Brad. We all know Brad loves kids, but you can just be an awesome stepdad without stripping Jackson of his rights. I mean, he never acknowledged paternity, but that was because of everything that was going on at the time. All he needs to do now is demand a paternity test in court to prove Eden is his DNA. Although, looking at Eden and how she already looks like a Bri copy-paste situation, one has to wonder if Jackson was even present at conception or if Bri just got cloned. Briony and Beau and Savannah had a lot more Jackson in them at her age.”
Brindleton Bay
Rosebriar Haven
The first week back in Brindleton Bay passed in a blur of unpacking, settling, and rediscovering the quiet rhythms of Rosebriar Haven. Briar Rose felt lighter than she had in years — like she’d finally exhaled after holding her breath for half a decade — but the adoption paperwork loomed like a shadow at the edge of every peaceful moment. She wanted it. Brad wanted it. But wanting something that big was terrifying.
Brad was in the kitchen making coffee when the email came from the attorney.
Briar Rose read it once. Then again. Her stomach dropped straight through the floor.
“Brad…” Her voice cracked.
He turned immediately, concern sharpening his features. “What’s wrong?”
She handed him her phone.
Before we can proceed with the adoption process, the court requires a paternity confirmation from the listed biological father.
Brad blinked. “Hm.”
Briar Rose stared at him, horrified. “Brad, this is not nothing. This is—this is humiliating. And unnecessary. And—”
“It’s procedure,” he said gently. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
“It means Jackson finds out about the adoption. It means he gets to stick his nose in our lives again,” she whispered. “He’s not gonna agree. It means he could—”
“Bri.” Brad stepped closer, cupping her cheek. “It’s a cheek swab. He’ll do it, they’ll confirm what we already know, and we’ll move on. He’ll sign. If only to avoid being on the hook for alimony or something. You said it yourself — he’s never been too interested in his daughter’s life. Maybe he’ll buck, just out of principle or to get one in on me, but then our attorney will talk to him and he’ll agree. I’m not worried.”
He said it firmly. He said it like he believed it. He didn’t.
Jackson would never sign anything like that willingly. Brad knew that. But he also knew Briar Rose needed steadiness right now, not his own anxiety.
Bri didn’t look convinced.
Because deep down, she wasn’t afraid of the test. She was afraid of Jackson’s reaction to her actions.
Afraid he’d use this to hurt her. Afraid he’d use this to hurt Brad. Afraid he’d end up hurting Eden in the process.
Brad kissed her forehead. “Nothing is going to change.”
She wished she believed him.
Jackson didn’t fight the test — not because he wanted to cooperate, but because the mobile clinic came to his ranch and the appointment was free.
He showed up, grumbling. Signed the form. Swabbed his cheek. Left.
Briar Rose spent the next ten days in a state of quiet panic.
Brad didn’t.
He cooked. He worked. He played with Nate. He read Eden bedtime stories. He held Briar Rose every night until she fell asleep.
He wasn’t nervous. He wasn’t insecure. He had already spoken privately with his legal team, who assured him there were ways to strong‑arm even a stubborn cowboy into signing away rights if it came to that — proof of financial instability, lack of involvement, the fact that he’d already let Connor and Keira raise one of his children. The only problem was that if it had to come to that, it may mean he’d lose custody of Beau and Savannah as well, which was not what Brad wanted at all.
Brad prayed it wouldn’t come to that. He didn’t want to steamroll Jackson. He just wanted peace.
The results arrived on a Tuesday.
A plain white envelope. No fanfare. No warning.
Briar Rose froze when she saw it in the mailbox.
Her hands shook as she carried it inside.
“Brad,” she whispered. “It’s here.”
He took it gently. “Do you want me to open it? We already know what it’ll say. Just a formality. Another step forward. No biggie. Just something for the files.”
She nodded, unable to speak.
He tore the seal. Unfolded the paper. Read the first line.
His brow furrowed.
Not fear. Not anger. Just confusion.
“Brad?” Briar Rose whispered. “What’s wrong?”
He handed her the paper.
Her eyes scanned the words.
Stopped.
Read them again.
And again.
Probability of paternity: 0%.
Her breath left her in a single, broken sound. “That’s… not possible.”
Brad sat down slowly, like the floor had shifted beneath him. “Bri…”
She shook her head, tears spilling. “No. No, I never—Brad, I never slept with anyone else. I swear to God, I never—”
“Well,” he said immediately, firmly, without hesitation, “no offense, Bri, but these tests are verified by running them multiple times. I don’t think this could be a mistake.”
She pressed her hands to her mouth. “But how—?”
And then the math rearranged itself.
The dates. The stress of the convoluted situation back then. The OB’s rushed estimate. The implantation delay she’d forgotten about. The night she and Brad had been stupid and reckless — the old confusion of being torn between two men she both loved.
Her voice cracked.
“Brad… oh my God… there was one other guy.” She looked up at him, panicked. “You. That one night when… before… when we… but that can’t be.”
Brad’s breath hitched.
Not in fear. Not in shock. But in something like awe.
“Mine?” he whispered.
Briar Rose nodded, sobbing. “Braddy…”
Brad stood, crossed the room in two steps, and pulled her into his arms.
He held her like she might disappear. Like the truth might slip away if he didn’t anchor it.
He buried his face in her hair. “Bri… don’t take this the wrong way, but if that’s even an option, I want to get tested. Just to have it in writing.”
She clung to him, shaking. “Yes. Of course. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know. But it has to be you. There was nobody else. Never.”
He cupped her face, wiping her tears with his thumbs.
“Briar Rose Cameron,” he said softly, “there is nothing to be sorry for. Nothing.”
Brad got tested the next morning. A simple cheek swab at the clinic in town — quick, clinical — but the weight of it made Briar Rose feel like she was floating outside her own body. Brad held her hand the entire time, calm and steady, even as she trembled. He didn’t say much on the drive home, just kept glancing at her like he was memorizing her all over again.
Two days later, the confirmation email came through while they were in his home office.
Brad opened it. Briar Rose hovered behind him, fingers digging into the back of his chair.
He clicked the attachment. The document loaded. His breath caught.
He didn’t speak.
He just turned the screen toward her.
Briar Rose leaned in, heart pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears.
Probability of paternity: 99.999%.
Her knees buckled. Brad caught her before she hit the floor, pulling her into his lap as he sank back into the chair.
She sobbed into his shoulder — relief, disbelief, joy, grief for the years lost, gratitude for the years ahead — all crashing through her at once.
Brad held her like she was the only thing anchoring him to the earth.
“Bri…” His voice broke. “She’s mine.”
She kissed him — cheeks, jaw, mouth — desperate and laughing and crying all at once. He kissed her back, hands in her hair, pulling her closer, both of them overwhelmed by the truth finally settling into place.
He whispered against her ear, “You know the best part?”
She pulled back, breathless. “What?”
Brad reached across his desk, grabbed the adoption papers, and tossed them straight into the trash.
“We won’t need those anymore,” he said softly. “Just need to get me added to her birth certificate.”
Briar Rose stared at the papers in the bin, then at him, then back again. Her breath caught. “Brad…”
He kissed her forehead, then her cheek, then her mouth — both of them laughing and crying at the same time. It felt unreal. It felt inevitable. It felt like the universe finally catching up.
They stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped around each other in his office chair, until Bri finally whispered, “We have to tell them.”
Brad nodded. “Yeah. In person.”
“Tomorrow?”
“First flight out.”
San Sequoia
Seaglass Haven
They flew out at dawn, bleary‑eyed but buzzing with adrenaline. By mid‑morning, they were walking into Seaglass Haven, where Hailey had already set out coffee, cake, cookies, and enough pastries to feed a small army. The whole family was gathered around the dining table, chatting, laughing, mid‑chaos as usual.
Brad stood, clearing his throat.
“Guys, sorry for the many sudden visits of late, but what we have to say, we wanted to tell you in person.”
“Oh god, she’s pregnant again,” Iris deadpanned.
The room exploded into laughter.
Briar Rose flipped her sister off, sticking out her tongue. Iris immediately stuck hers out in retaliation — only for Hailey’s vampiric reflexes to snap into action. She caught both girls’ tongues between two fingers, holding them in place like misbehaving toddlers.
The twins froze, eyes wide, mumbling nonsense.
“We had rules about this sort of thing growing up,” Hailey said calmly. “Rules that did not change when you became — and I will use the term loosely — adults.”
The room roared.
Hailey released them, and both sisters recoiled dramatically, rubbing their tongues.
Brad chuckled. “No, Bri is not pregnant. At least not to our knowledge, but never say never, right?”
Briar Rose swatted his arm. “We’re not having more kids. Chill, everybody. Move on to another joke — you rode this one to death. Baby factory is closed. Permanently.”
More mumbling, snickering, Jasper whispering something obscene to Chris that made Chris choke on his coffee.
Brad lifted his hands. “Okay, okay. Jokes aside… I am not adopting Eden.”
Silence.
Instant, heavy, stunned silence.
Every Cameron head snapped toward him. Even Jasper stopped breathing for a second. Brad kept his face somber, but the corners of his mouth twitched, betraying him.
Chris squinted. “Ah, he’s just fucking with us.”
Before Brad could answer, Iris muttered under her breath — loud enough for everyone to hear:
“Better be a joke. Jas, the kids, and I did not sit in weekend commuter traffic for two hours just to be let down by some half‑baked announcement, Cunningham. So, spill the damn tea!”
Jasper nodded solemnly. “Facts. I almost committed road rage twice. It’s not pretty. Like a ‘Walking Dead’ version of my O-face while I black out in some rage-zone.”
Iris pointed at Brad. “Yeah, he’s right. Jasper’s road rage is like a rabid Chihuahua. So this better be good, Cunningham.”
Brad grinned. “Understood, thank you, Chris, for the eloquent evaluation — and yes, I am absolutely fucking with all of you, to use your terms.”
“Oooh, we got Cunningham talking dirty now.” Jasper chuckled.
“I won’t have to adopt, because in a curious string of events, we found out that I am actually Eden’s biological father.”
Gasps. A few curses. Jasper whisper‑screaming “WHAT?!” Iris slapping the table so hard her coffee sloshed.
Brad continued, smiling now, soft and proud.
“Now I’m extra glad I was there for her… somewhat unscheduled birth back when. Didn’t know then that I was bringing my own baby into the world, but special nonetheless.”
Briar Rose squeezed his hand, eyes shining.
The room erupted.
Hailey cried — real tears, rare and shimmering. Chase nodded once, like he’d always suspected something deeper.
Iris screamed, “I KNEW IT! Look at her — she looks nothing like Jackson. All of his kids have that chin and those angular features. Eden’s are soft. Bri and Brad both have those rounded babyfaces. Totally checks out, I don’t need a paternity test for that, just my eyes!”
Jasper fainted dramatically onto the couch. Connor hugged Brad so hard he nearly cracked a rib. Keira hugged Briar Rose until she couldn’t breathe. Briony stared, stunned, then whispered, “So Eden’s… just my half‑sister?”
The attorney notified Jackson. He didn’t show much emotion. Just read the letter once, then twice, then crumpled it up and threw it into the fire.
Brindleton Bay
Haute Cuisine Restaurant & Bar
Brad and Briar Rose slipped into their favorite restaurant like they had a hundred times before — the one tucked into the corner of the marina with elegant decor and stunning views of the harbor. The place where they’d reconnected years ago, where everything had started unraveling and re‑weaving itself into something new. The staff recognized them immediately, greeting them with warm smiles and a bottle of the wine they used to order without thinking.
They sat at their favorite table by the window. The view hadn’t changed — boats rocking gently in the harbor, the ferry landing with a honk, lights reflecting off the water, the faint hum of conversation around them. But everything else had.
“Remember when we met here that one time, I stopped by here freshly divorced, for a little stroll down memory lane in between radio interviews and TV appearances in San Myshuno, you ordered me a drink and we ended up reconnecting?” Bri said, swirling her wine.
Brad laughed. “You don’t think I would ever forget that.”
“This feels a little like that. I never thought I’d sit here with you again, just us, holding hands across the table. I mean, we’ve been here again, with the kids, with Viola. But that’s different.”
“To second chances,” he toasted.
“I think we are well past second. More like a baker’s dozen.”
He shook his head, smiling. “May it be the last chance we need.”
“I think it is. I really feel like we both finally got the message,” she said softly.
He reached across the table, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “I do too. Somehow, this feels meant to be.”
Dinner was slow and warm and full of the kind of quiet that only comes from two people who know each other down to the bone. They talked about the kids, about the house, about the future in a way that didn’t feel scary anymore. Just… right.
After dessert, Briar Rose stood abruptly. “Come on. Let’s pay and get out of here.”
Brad blinked. “Where are we going?”
“Ferry. I ate way too much — we need to walk it off over on the island. And I want to see the lighthouse again.”
He didn’t argue. He never did when she got that look in her eye.
The ferry ride to the lighthouse island was cold and windy, but Briar Rose stood at the railing, hair whipping around her face, smiling like she was sixteen again. Brad watched her, hands in his pockets, heart full in a way he couldn’t explain.
They walked the familiar path up to the lighthouse, passing couples, joggers, tourists taking photos. The air smelled like salt and pine. The sky was streaked with pink and gold.
At the top, Brad leaned against the railing, inhaling deeply. “God, I love it up here.”
Briar Rose stood beside him, hands tucked into her coat pockets.
He kept talking, voice soft. “Everything’s falling into place, Bri. The kids, the house, us… I didn’t think we’d ever get back here. And oh — do you remember when I took you up here and—”
He turned.
She wasn’t beside him.
She was kneeling.
On one knee.
Holding a ring box.
His voice died in his throat. “…proposed,” he finished, barely a whisper, eyes wide.
“Bradford Cunningham,” she said, steady and sure, “I know this is kind of unusual, especially for Brindleton Bay, but I feel like I screwed us up last time. I should be the one to ask you for another chance. We both know what we want. I need you, Brad. And from the sounds of it, you need me too. And I love you more than I can put in words.”
She opened the box.
“Will you make me the happiest girl in the world one more time and be my husband?”
Brad stared at her, stunned, breathless, overwhelmed. Then he laughed — a soft, disbelieving sound — and dropped to his knees in front of her, cupping her face in both hands.
“Briar Rose,” he whispered, forehead pressed to hers, “I’ve been yours since I was sixteen. Yes. God, yes.”
She slid the ring onto his finger — her hands shaking, his eyes shining — and he kissed her, slow and deep and certain, the lighthouse light sweeping over them in wide, gentle arcs.
Before she could speak again, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small velvet ring box of his own.
Briar Rose blinked. “Brad…? Oh my God, Braddy!”
He smirked. “You stole my idea.”
She gasped. “I suggested the ferry ride!”
“Because I was still leading up to it gently,” he said, opening the box with a flourish, “to not raise suspicion.”
“I didn’t wait,” she shot back, “and you didn’t suspect anything.”
“True,” he admitted, laughing. “I REALLY would have never expected this.” He took her hand, thumb brushing her knuckles. “Well, Briar Rose Cameron… will you make me the luckiest guy in the world and become my wife again?”
She made a show of thinking — tapping her chin, squinting at the sky, humming dramatically.
Brad groaned. “Cruel.”
“No,” she said sweetly, “I was leading up gently to it…” She repeated his earlier words with a smirk, then held out her hand for him to slip the ring on.
He shook his head, amused. “You gotta say it, Bri.”
She rolled her eyes, but her smile was soft and glowing. “Yes, Brad. Of course I will marry you again. Now give me that ring — it’s gorgeous. You always had amazingly great taste.”
“Obviously,” he said, sliding it onto her finger, “I chose you.”
“I chose you first.”
“We chose each other.”
“Fiiiiiiine…” She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him, pulling him into a deep, breath‑stealing kiss as the lighthouse light swept over them in slow, golden arcs.
The wind whipped around them, the ocean roared below, and the world narrowed to just the two of them — kneeling, laughing, kissing, choosing each other all over again.
They stayed like that, wrapped in each other, until the ferry horn echoed across the water and Brad finally pulled back, smiling against her lips.
“Guess we should be getting back or we might miss the last ferry over. I am not sure I wanna sleep here, al fresco. Bit too nippy at nights,” he murmured.
“Very good point. Let’s go home,” she whispered back, kissing him once more before they rose and headed back to the docks.
And the lighthouse kept turning.
EchoesOfLegacy 