Chapter 206

~ Clinton ~

The drive back to New York with Annie was quiet in a way that felt right. We didn’t need to fill every silence with words. After everything that had happened, after watching the people we cared about fight for their lives, we just needed to be near each other. Her hand stayed in mine the entire drive, and that was enough.

Every now and then, I glanced at her from the corner of my eye. She looked exhausted, but there was peace on her face that hadn’t been there in days. The city lights gradually came into view as we drove, and instead of feeling overwhelmed by returning home, I felt relieved. For the first time in what seemed like forever, we weren’t running toward another crisis.

When we pulled up to the house, Trudy was already at the door, waiting. I’d called ahead to let her know we were coming, but seeing her standing there, her face lighting up when she saw Annie beside me, us holding hands made something in my chest tighten.

Trudy pulled us both into a hug, and I could feel her trembling slightly. When she pulled back, there were tears in her eyes.

"I’m so glad you’re both home," she said. "And together. I can see it. You finally told her?"

I looked at Annie, and she was already blushing. "Yeah," I said, unable to keep the smile off my face. "I told her, I love her. We are taking things slow."

Trudy squealed and hugged us again, this time separately, making a fuss over both of us. She kept shaking her head with the biggest smile, as though she’d been waiting for this moment long before either of us realized it would happen. But as we walked inside, I knew I couldn’t put off what needed to be said anymore. Trudy and Annie, they were my family. Both of them. And they deserved to know the truth.

Once we were all sitting in the living room, I took a breath.

"I owe you both an explanation," I said, looking between them. "About my father. About what happened. You’re both my family, and I shouldn’t have kept this from you."

So I told them. Everything. About Dorian. About the orders he’d given. About how my own father had been willing to destroy Franklin and Octavia for money and power. I told them about the moment I had to choose—whether to protect my father or do what was right.

The words felt heavy leaving my mouth, but with each confession, the weight I’d been carrying seemed to lessen. Neither Annie nor Trudy interrupted me. They simply listened, letting me speak without judgment.

By the time I finished, Trudy’s eyes were wet with tears. She got up and pulled me into a hug, fierce and maternal.

"I am so proud of you," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "So proud. Do you understand? You chose what was right. That takes strength, Clinton. Real strength."

Annie reached over and took my hand. "And you helped bring him down. Dorian. He was trying to use us, and you stopped him. You did the right thing."

I squeezed her hand, grateful for both of them.

But then Trudy asked the question I’d been dreading. "Will you go see your father? In prison?"

I looked away. "I don’t know yet. I’m still... I’m still processing all of it."

The thought alone left a bitter ache in my chest. Part of me wanted answers, while another part wasn’t sure I ever wanted to look him in the eye again.

"That’s okay," Trudy said softly. "Take your time. There’s no rush for that."

I was grateful when Annie quickly changed the subject. "You know, we should go see Octavia and Franklin. After everything they’ve been through, they should know we’re with them. That we support them."

"That’s a good idea," I said, nodding. "We should do that."

Trudy stood up, already moving toward the kitchen. "Yes, yes. But first, you both eat something. I have been preparing. Crispy chicken, the sauce you love, Annie. Everything fresh."

"Have I told you how much I love you mum?" She said excitedly.

She laughed and pinched her nose.

As Trudy disappeared into the kitchen, the tension that had been sitting on my shoulders all day finally lifted. The confessions were done. The hard conversations were over. What was left was just... us. Family.

The familiar sounds of pots clinking and cupboards opening echoed through the house, making the place feel warm and alive. It reminded me that even after the darkest days, life somehow found a way to keep moving forward.

Annie was smiling at me, that soft smile she got when she was happy. And I realized that everything had finally worked out.

So I stood up, walked over to her, and before she could say anything, I swept her up into my arms, bridal style.

"Clinton! What...what was that for?" she said, laughing, surprised.

"Carrying my wife to be!" I laughed, spinning her around slightly before setting her back down gently. "Is that not allowed?"

She wrapped her arms around my neck, still laughing. "You’re ridiculous."

"Yeah," I said, pulling her closer. "But you love me anyway."

"I do," she said softly. "I really do."

From the kitchen, I could hear Trudy humming as she cooked. The smell of crispy chicken and spices filled the house. Annie was in my arms. And for the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt right.

Annie pulled back just enough to look at me, her eyes searching mine. "Are you really okay? With everything? With your father, with all of it?"

It was the kind of question only Annie would ask. Not letting me off easy. Not accepting surface-level reassurance.

"I will be," I said honestly. "Right now, I don’t know. But knowing I have you and Trudy, that helps. It makes it bearable."

She rested her forehead against mine. "We’re not going anywhere."

"I know," I said. And I meant it.

There was comfort in those simple words. They weren’t promises born from obligation, but from love. After everything we’d survived together, I believed her without question.

The smell of dinner grew stronger. Trudy called out something from the kitchen about the table, and Annie laughed, that bright, unguarded laugh I’d been missing.

I pulled her with me toward the dining room, her hand in mine. Tomorrow could bring whatever it was going to bring. The visits to Octavia and Franklin, the complicated feelings about my father, the future I was still learning to imagine.

But tonight, right now, in this moment with the two people who’d chosen to stand by me—this was enough.

Everything felt like home.