Chapter 278: ~ 277
Chapter 277
~Franklin~
I drove back home after a long day. Clinton’s words kept repeating in my mind.
I decided and made my way to the nursery where Lael was. I wanted to check on my baby girl.
I walked over to the wooden crib with silent and slow steps, trying not to make a sound so I won’t wake her up.
Lael was fast asleep, her tiny lips parted slightly, her little hands curled into loose fists near her cheeks. She looked so beautifully innocent, so entirely detached from the heavy storms currently tearing her parents apart.
I leaned over the rails, my massive frame casting a protective shadow over her, and reached out with a trembling hand. With the absolute tip of my finger, I gently caught the edge of her soft, fleece blanket and tucked it securely around her tiny shoulders.
I just stood there, staring down at her, a profound ache blossoming in my chest.
I didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. The unmistakable scent of sweet vanilla flooded my senses, instantly making the tight knot in my chest tighten even more. Octavia quietly slipped into the nursery. She was wearing the soft cream robe.
The fierce, volatile anger that had flushed her cheeks and sharpened her voice during our fight last night had completely melted away. In its place was a heavy, vulnerable sadness that broke my heart to look at.
She stopped a few feet away from the crib, her gaze fixed entirely on me. She looked pale, her beautiful eyes rimmed with an undeniable weariness. She definitely missed me, it was written all over her face, in the slight tremble of her lower lip and the soft, pleading way she held my gaze.
For a long, agonizing moment, neither of us said a word.
Octavia took a slow, hesitant step forward. When I didn’t pull away, she closed the distance completely. She walked right up behind me, her small, warm hands sliding around my waist. She wrapped her arms around my torso, burying her face directly between my shoulder blades, leaning her forehead heavily against my solid back.
A ragged, shaky breath escaped her lips, vibrating right through my skin.
"I’m so sorry, Franklin," she whispered, her voice incredibly small, muffled against the fabric of my shirt. "I am so, so sorry for yelling at you like that."
I didn’t speak. I just let myself feel the grounding weight of her against me.
"I’ve been thinking about it all day," Octavia continued, her fingers tightening into the fabric at my waist. "I realize that I was being way too hard on you. You’ve spent your entire life carrying the weight of protecting this family from very real, terrifying monsters. I can’t just expect you to wake up one morning and blindly trust Flynn just because he’s nice to the baby. It wasn’t fair of me to dismiss your instincts. It wasn’t fair to call you that."
Hearing her take accountability when I had been the one keeping secrets pricked my conscience. Clinton was right. She wasn’t fragile. She was my anchor.
I turned around slowly within her embrace, twisting my large body so I could face her fully. I reached down, my hands framing her delicate face, my thumbs gently sweeping under her eyes to wipe away a stray tear that had managed to escape.
"Look at me," I murmured, my voice cracking with a heartfelt, raw emotion I rarely let anyone see. "You don’t need to apologize, Octavia. I am sorry, too. I’ve been stiff. I’ve been too hard. And the last thing I ever want to do is make you feel unsafe or alone in our own home."
I reached over to the small changing table counter where I had placed a fresh bouquet of orchids I’d cut from the greenhouse right before coming up. I picked them up and handed them to her, a quiet, physical token of my apology.
Octavia looked at the flowers, a soft, incredibly beautiful smile breaking across her tired face. She took them, breathing in the scent, before looking back up at me.
I didn’t waste another second. I reached out, wrapping my massive arms completely around her, pulling her flush against my chest. I held her so tightly it felt like I was trying to fuse our souls back together, burying my face in the crook of her neck. Octavia clung to me just as fiercely, her fingers digging into my shoulders as if she were terrified I might disappear if she let go.
When I finally pulled back just an inch, I leaned down and captured her lips in a deep, desperate, and entirely possessive kiss. It washed away the bitter taste of the last forty-eight hours.
When our lips parted, our foreheads remained pressed together, both of us breathing heavily in the amber twilight of the nursery. I looked deep into her eyes, seeing the absolute trust reflecting back at me, and I knew the silence had to end right now. I finally broke.
"Octavia... there’s something I need to tell you," I whispered, my hands moving down to hold her shoulders firmly. "The reason I snapped yesterday... it wasn’t just blind paranoia. I didn’t want to tell you because you were so tired, but I can’t keep you in the dark anymore."
Octavia’s brow furrowed, her expression turning instant and serious. "What is it, Franklin?"
I took a deep, centering breath, forcing the ugly words out into the open. "A few nights ago, I walked past Flynn’s study. The door was cracked open. He was on a private phone call with Aunt Maria. I heard him, Octavia. He was laughing. He told her he has gotten on my good side and I fell for it."
Octavia gasped in absolute shock, her hand flew up to cover her mouth, her eyes widening to the size of saucers. "He... he said that? To his mother?"
"Yes," I growled softly, my jaw tightening again. "The man is completely playing us. This entire routine, the sweet cousin, the helpful uncle, the guy who just wants to ’let go of everything’ and fix the past, it’s an act. He is playing a long game, and he’s using your kindness to do it."
Octavia stood there, entirely frozen as the horrifying truth re-contextualized every single interaction she had shared with Flynn over the past week. But instead of breaking down into terror like I had feared, her shock quickly morphed into a cold, calculating focus.
She looked up at me, a sudden, sharp realization flashing through her eyes. "Franklin... oh my god."
"What?" I asked, my security instincts instantly flaring up. "What is it?"
"Victoria came over earlier today," Octavia whispered, her voice trembling as she gripped my forearms. "She came to apologize for running out yesterday. Franklin, she told me what happened between them in San Francisco. She fell completely, helplessly in love with him a few months ago. They dated for a while, and she said he was the perfect, sweetest boyfriend. But then, one morning, he just vanished into thin air. He left a note saying he couldn’t be who she needed and that he had a ’dark family shadow’ to face alone."
My mind immediately began to short-circuit, trying to piece the timelines together. "San Francisco? They were together before he ever showed up here?"
"Yes!" Octavia said out loud, her voice rising slightly before she checked herself and glanced at the sleeping baby. She dropped her voice back into a fierce, bewildered whisper. "And Victoria had absolutely no idea he was related. She only found out who he really was when she walked into our house yesterday and saw him."
We stood there in the quiet nursery, staring at each other as the pieces of the puzzle scattered across the floor, refusing to form a clear picture. If Flynn was a ruthless, calculated villain sent by Aunt Maria to destroy us, why had he spent time playing a genuine, loving boyfriend to my wife’s best friend in another city? Why did he run away?
"What is truly wrong with Flynn?" Octavia wondered out loud, her voice heavy with a deep, unsettling confusion.
I looked down at her, pulling her back into the safe contour of my chest, my eyes narrowing as I stared out into the dark hallway. We were no longer fighting each other. But as the clock ticked past midnight, the mystery of the cousin sleeping in our guest wing only grew larger, darker, and infinitely more dangerous.