Just Like That (The Kings)

The room felt too quiet, too still, considering everything that had happened.

Aunt Bug’s house, the place that had once been loud with the sounds of our messy, chaotic childhood, now held a strange stillness. The kind that comes when the air is thick with unspoken words. My siblings and I sat around the dining room table, staring at the urn in the middle like it might get up and start yelling at us the way Dad used to.

He was dead. We all knew that, but the weight of it hadn’t settled yet.

“I can reach out to his other family,” MJ said softly, her voice almost drowned out by the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hallway. “Maybe they’ll want the ashes . . . his wife, or . . . someone.”

Her words hung in the air, and I could see the sympathy in her eyes, like she still wanted to do the right thing despite everything.

MJ, always the good one, always trying to fix what was broken.

Royal leaned back in his chair, giving her a long look. “You’re a good person,” he said quietly.

I felt the familiar pang of guilt shoot through me.

I wasn’t.

I had scooped a bit of his ashes earlier, when no one was looking. I planned to put them somewhere in town, somewhere he would absolutely hate.

The old community garden.

A place he despised. The man had hated anything that thrived on its own without his control, and the garden was like a little act of rebellion against him. That was exactly where I’d put him. That way he would always see how well we were doing without him.

I wanted that knowledge to torture him forever.

Was it petty and a little unhinged? Probably. But I couldn’t find it within myself to care.

Aunt Bug sighed from the end of the table, her hands nervously twisting the edge of a kitchen towel. “I always tried to keep you safe, you know,” she said, her voice cracking with the years of weight she’d carried. “Even though I didn’t want to believe he took your mother . . . I tried my best.”

We stared as the strongest woman we knew nearly crumbled.

“But you’ve always been our mom,” Sylvie said, her voice firm, cutting through the heavy silence.

There was no hesitation in her words, no doubt. The rest of us nodded, and a chorus of agreement filled the room.

“Bug, you were more of a mother to us than anyone else ever could’ve been,” Abel added, and for once, his usual gruffness softened.

Whip leaned in, nudging me with his elbow, his grin appearing despite the tension. “Yeah, you definitely fed us more sugar than was good for us. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”

We all chuckled, the mood lightening, and Bug’s eyes misted over as she looked at each of us, her makeshift children.

“Damn straight I did,” she replied with a proud sniff. “And I’d do it again.”

In that moment, as the laughter and warmth spread through the room, the weight of Russell’s death didn’t feel so suffocating.

It didn’t matter what happened to his ashes.

What mattered was here, in this room.

Us.

The evening breeze ruffled Hazel’s hair as we strolled through the quiet streets, the fading light painting everything in soft pastels. Teddy ran ahead, his laughter ringing out as he hopped from stone to stone on the sidewalk, chasing the last of the fireflies.

Watching him, my chest tightened with a warmth I couldn’t fully explain. He had no idea how much he’d changed my life.

“You know, I’ve always loved this time of day,” Hazel said, her voice carrying a soft, thoughtful note. “Everything feels perfect, like the universe finally stopped spinning so fast, and I can just breathe.”

I glanced over at her, the sight of her pretty face in the dusky light nearly stealing my own breath.

She was right. Everything about that moment felt right. But it wasn’t just the quiet town or the fading sun.

It was her. And it was Teddy.

Hazel’s hand slipped into mine, and I squeezed gently, feeling that familiar spark of connection. She was always talking about the universe and its signs, but tonight, for once, I could see she wasn’t looking up at the stars for answers.

She was looking at me.

“JP,” she started, her voice hesitant, “I was thinking—maybe it’s time we make this official.”

I stopped walking, turning to face her fully. “Make what official?”

She rolled her eyes, but there was a playful glint in them. “You know what I mean. This . . . us. Maybe Teddy and I should officially move in. I mean, it’s not like we’re going anywhere. And let’s be real, my skoolie doesn’t exactly scream ‘long-term family planning.’”

I grinned, feeling the familiar warmth bloom in my chest. I caught the way her eyes softened as she looked up at me. There was something different about her now, something more certain, and that made my heart pound even harder.

“And that’s what you want, Hex?” I asked, searching her face, needing to hear her say it.

Her lips curved into a soft, knowing smile. “It is. I want this. I want you. I want Teddy to have the life he deserves. I want us to be a family.”

My heart swelled at her words, but I knew this was my moment. “I love you,” I murmured against her lips, sealing the words with a kiss.

She giggled. “I love you too.”

“I meant it.” I stepped closer, cupping her face in my hands, feeling her lean into my touch. “I need you to know something. I’ve spent my whole life wondering if I could be the kind of man who deserved a family like this. But when I met you, everything changed. You and Teddy . . . you make me want to be better. You’ve shown me what it means to love someone with everything I have.”

Her eyes glistened, her breath catching slightly. She wasn’t used to hearing these kinds of words from me, but I’d spend the rest of my life changing that.

She had been so focused on protecting Teddy, on keeping her own heart safe, that she hadn’t let herself imagine this kind of love.

“Teddy’s my son in every way that matters,” I continued, my voice thick with emotion. “He’s part of me, just like you are. I want you both in my life, Hazel. I want us to be a family, officially. Stay with me. Let’s stop pretending like this is temporary.”

I kissed her, slow and tender, pouring everything I couldn’t say into that moment. She kissed me back, her fingers curling into my shirt, like she was holding on to the anchor I had become for her.

When we pulled back, Teddy had returned, tugging on the hem of Hazel’s dress with a sleepy smile. “Can we go home now?” he asked, his eyes half closed as he leaned against her leg.

Home.

The word settled over me like a warm blanket. I scooped Teddy up into my arms, carrying him as he rested his head on my shoulder. His hands curled into my shirt, and I felt that familiar surge of love I had for him.

He was mine—whether anyone else had anything to do with him or not.

Hazel watched us with a soft smile, her eyes reflecting something deep and sure. This was our family. No more looking for signs. No more waiting for the universe to tell us what to do. We had everything we needed right here.

“Yeah, bud,” I said, my voice full of warmth as I glanced at Hazel, who walked beside me, her hand slipping back into mine. “Let’s go home.”