What they believe is unimportant. I know who I am, and my self-worth isn’t defined by an approval rating. She doesn’t know my journey or what it’s taken to get me back here.
Two adults step forward, twins about the same age as me, a young woman and man, both raven-haired and beautiful with an air of sophistication to their demeanor. The man is tall and slim, his clothes expensive. There’s a tentative smile on his face as he takes my hand. “Name’s Beau.” His eyes are the exact color of mine…and kind. It’s hard to take in all at once. I suck in a little internal breath. He’s my half-brother. Part of my blood is his.
“I’m Bianca.” The slender girl next to him gives me a once-over and gives Z a long look. I expect a hint of jealousy because Z is Z, but there’s zilch there but deep curiosity.
I nod.
Mr. Winchester says. “We’ll get started now.”
And we do.
I walk inside a house that, as a young girl, I dreamed of burning down.
And it’s a big step.
I don’t know exactly what I’m going to say as this day goes on, but I decided to take the money my father left me. Mr. Winchester is insistent that I do, that it was my father’s last dying wish. I’m going to accept it and try not to be bitter about how he treated Mama. I guess this is his way of making up for the past. Perhaps knowing he had cancer changed him. I don’t know, but maybe these three people do.
What I do know is I’ve come full circle. I’m embracing courage and I won’t be afraid of falling anymore—with anything. I’m here to discover more about them and maybe focus on being wise, judging less, and being kind. After all, I don’t know their journey and the weight it must have been to know I was out there in the world, part of them yet not.
In the end, these three people are not my father, just innocent bystanders with a fate they couldn’t control.
Z laces his hand with mine and I know that life is right. He is right. And no matter the obstacles ahead, he’s with me.
Epilogue
Zack
It must be a hundred degrees in this room, and I tug at the tight white collar around my neck. Shit, I hate these suits, but damn I look good. I catch my reflection in the oval mirror in the dressing room and check out my appearance, taking in the perfect fit of the tailored black suit, hoping it’s what it’s supposed to be. My hair is styled into a semblance of order and my beard is short and clipped. Luckily, I have all my teeth, which is not an easy feat considering the hard-won hockey season we just wrapped up. I adjust my cufflinks—diamond hockey sticks, a gift from my dad when I finished my first season with the Predators.
A lot has happened in the five years since I graduated from HU and went straight to summer training in Nashville. Yeah, that first year wasn’t easy. The coaches put me on the third line and just…let me be. In the meantime, I picked back up with therapy with a new doctor, and even though I don’t go three days a week anymore, I do check in once a month. Anxiety still eats at me, and maybe it always will, but it’s an enemy I’ve learned to cope with and handle. I haven’t had any freak-outs that took me out of a game, and this year, I was on the first line and helped bring the Stanley Cup to Nashville.
The door flies open.
“Dude, the florist is a whack job. Everything’s supposed to be lilies, man, fucking lilies, and we all got these stupid pink rosebuds,” says Eric when he pushes inside and nearly topples a chair. “Pink! It’s not part of Sugar’s color scheme. These people…”
“Easy now,” I say and bite back a grin at his “color scheme” comment.
He straightens himself in the mirror, brushing at his wild red hair, slicking it back. His suit is the same cut as mine, but it’s a pale grey with a soft gold tie. “On a side note, we look fucking good.” He looks down at his hand where he’s holding a small white flower that looks ridiculous in his big hands. “Anyway, the wedding lady said you had to wear this…lily…and not that thing her assistant put on you