Brothers of Paradise Series

“Good.”

“He mentioned you,” she says, and there’s hope in her eyes. “He talked about you a lot.”

“He did?”

“Yes, he was very proud. You’re in the Navy?”

I give a slow nod. “I was.”

“Yeah… well. Yes.” She shrugs, and she’s looking at me expectantly.

Damn. I’m fucking this up royally-I can feel it. This needs to be handled with more tact than I’ve ever used before. Lily’s gaze feels heavy. She believes in me.

“Stephanie, is your mother here?”

“Yes. She’s back at the church.”

“Would you two like to come with us to dinner? We could talk.”

The smile on Stephanie’s face makes some distant, painful part of my heart ache. It’s tentative, a bit shy, and filled with a lot of fragile hope.

A sister. I have a sister.

“Yes,” she says. “I’d love that. Let me just go get her.”

“We’ll be here,” I say.

Lily and I watch as Stephanie runs back to get her mom. Lily’s hand tightens around mine, and I grip it back, grateful for the support.

“My father had other children,” I say.

It’s not a surprise, really, when I think about it. But it never struck me to look for them. I never even thought to ask.

Lily’s eyes are wet. The incredulity in them mirrors my own exactly. “Hayden…”

“I know. This is…”

“A blessing,” she finishes. “Family always is.”

The weeks pass quickly after that.

Stephanie comes to Paradise Shores a few times, getting ice cream with Lily and me. She’s shy, but I learn more about her history, and tentatively share some of my own. It’s not going to be an easy process, but we’re both willing to take it slow. Talking with her mother had been the hardest-someone who had seen the monster my dad could be and had escaped. Someone my mother should have been. But it’s the good kind of difficult. The one that means wounds from the past are healing, that I’m getting stronger.

Lily decides to work part-time at Harris Properties and devotes a lot of time to her gallery. I’m there most evenings too, hammering and painting and distracting her.

It’s great.

We spend the nights together. Either at her oceanside cottage or at my house on Elm Street, but so far, I haven’t slept a night without her by my side in weeks. I hope I never have to again.

She tells me to come to the gallery one afternoon, after having barred me entry for days. It’s almost done, she’d said-and I want you to be surprised.

I’m excited when I knock on the gallery door. It’s freshly painted and put back on with new hinges. Gary helped me with that, sanding the old door down in the garage at my house.

Lily opens the door with a wide grin. It’s the same smile I’m used to from childhood-the wide, beaming one, without restraints or pretension. Her auburn hair is up in a bun and she’s wearing paint-stained overalls.

She’s hung all the art. The walls are filled with photographs, with paintings-there are even a few sculptures. The sound of soft music wafts from the hidden surround system.

“Lily, this is gorgeous.”

“You think?”Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

“Yes.” I’ve seen the art she’s been working on, the pieces she’s sourced from others-but seeing it all come together? It’s a love letter to both art and the ocean. Each piece is different, but the story they tell… it’s beautiful.

“This one… I haven’t seen this one before,” I say, stopping in front of a painting of a beach. The sky is tumultuous, a mixture of reds and purples. Two children are walking along the shore.

“I just finished it,” Lily says, coming to stand next to me. “What do you think?”

I lean in closer. There’s something about the children… they’re only silhouettes, but they’re familiar. The girl is walking in front. Even though she’s stuck in a painting, her body is portrayed with motion in mind, energy evident in her stride. She’s reaching back, her hand clasped tightly around the boy’s.

He has shaggy hair. His shoulders are slumped slightly, but he’s turned toward her, letting her drag him across the beach.

“It’s us.”

“Yes. From ages ago.”

The sky is darker on his side of the painting. She’s pulling him toward the light, toward the sky with a gorgeous sunset.

With a start, I realize it’s not actually a sunset. It’s a sunrise.

“It’s beautiful,” I say, wrapping my arm around her. “You in the lead, and me following?”

“I couldn’t take too much creative license,” she says, and there’s laughter in her voice.

“Mhm.” I bend down and press a kiss to her lips. She’s too much, this woman. “Well, it’s true. My heart and my soul are yours. They were, even back then.”

Lily gives a little moan and turns to me completely, wrapping her arms around my neck. She feels like an extension of me-the two of us one person. My strength and my courage, my conscience and my sanity. In the months since I returned, I’ve learned the true meaning of a relationship. Of being partners-lifting each other up. Of being good enough together.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” I say. “And I love this painting. Is it for sale?”

Lily shakes her head. “I was planning on putting it up for sale, but now, I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right.”

“You should sell it,” I tell her. “Definitely.”

Her eyes dim. “All right. If you think so, maybe I should.”

“I do. I already know of a buyer, actually.”