The villa bloomed with life.
Warm yellow lights twinkled along the hedges. Fairy lights draped the trees in delicate shimmer. A soft evening breeze danced through the garden, carrying the scent of roses, citrus, and something sweet from the kitchen. Laughter rippled through the air like music.
It was the twins' fifteenth birthday.
Sahir and Eliya had grown into their own kind of wonder—clever, compassionate, strong. And tonight, they were radiant. Eliya in a flowing silver dress, Sahir in a dark blue suit that Keal had tailored himself. Rivan Jr. was their constant shadow, beaming with pride in a smaller version of his big brother's outfit.
The garden table was set for family, candles flickering in tall crystal holders, dinner laid out in courses too fancy for any regular evening. It was celebration, love, memory, and forgiveness all wrapped into one.
There were photos everywhere—on a string above the table, clipped to tiny lights, framed on corners of the lawn. Pictures of them growing up. Baby faces. Gap-toothed smiles. Muddy shoes. First art show. First science award. First day of school. Always surrounded by the three adults who never stopped loving them.
Loira raised her glass during dinner. "To Sahir and Eliya—fifteen years of light, of questions, of wisdom far beyond your age. You are the reason we are who we are."
Keal smiled, eyes glassy. "And to the future. Because with you, it's worth everything."
Rivan looked at them both, then at the kids. "And to the past, because we survived it—and to this moment, because we earned it."
The kids grinned. Rivan Jr. clinked his glass against theirs with extra enthusiasm, spilling a little juice.
After cake, after dancing, after the stars had fully blanketed the sky, the children retired to their rooms with tired laughter still lingering in the halls. The villa dimmed into a quiet glow.
In the master suite, the night took on a different rhythm.
Loira stepped into the soft light of their shared room, her dress replaced by a silken robe that brushed her calves. Her bare feet padded softly against the floor. Keal stood near the window, shirt loose, the city lights from afar reflecting off his skin. Rivan entered last, closing the door behind him with a soft click, his gaze holding something both hungry and reverent.
No one spoke at first. They didn't need to.
Rivan reached for Keal first, fingers sliding gently along his arm. "Tonight was perfect," he murmured.
Keal leaned into the touch. "Because we're finally whole."
Loira joined them, her hands brushing over Rivan's back, sliding to Keal's shoulder. They stood like that for a long moment—three bodies forming a circle of warmth.
Rivan turned toward her, cupping her cheek. "You're even more beautiful tonight."
She smiled, soft and knowing. "You say that every night."
"And I'll say it every night that I get to have you."
Keal pulled her gently in, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "We waited long for this."
The bed was large, welcoming. As they moved toward it, there was no hesitation—only a quiet reverence in the way they undressed one another. Gentle laughter at old habits. Soft sighs.
The sheets rustled as they came together, not in urgency, but in a slow dance of trust. Rivan's mouth found Loira's shoulder while Keal's hands traced old scars and new curves. Her breath caught as they kissed her—Keal's lips to her collarbone, Rivan's to her thigh. She pulled them closer, fingers tangled in both their hair.
They moved like memory and desire, familiar and yet new.
Keal and Rivan met each other in the dark, mouths finding warmth, hands drawing paths of forgiveness along skin. Loira watched them, her heart full, then joined, her body nestled between theirs.
It was slow.
It was intense.
It was healing.
Their love was a language of its own—spoken in the arch of a back, in a whispered name, in the way Keal gripped Rivan's hand as he moved inside Loira, in the way Rivan kissed her lips with devotion while Keal held them both.
Then Rivan was in the center—laid gently back against the pillows, chest rising and falling in anticipation. Loira straddled his hips slowly, her eyes meeting his, soft but unyielding.
"Let us love you," she whispered.
Keal moved behind him, placing steady hands on Rivan's shoulders, brushing lips against the nape of his neck. "You gave us everything again," he breathed. "Let us give you back what you lost."
Rivan's hands gripped the sheets, overwhelmed by the tenderness.
Loira leaned down, kissing him deeply, her fingers on his chest, grounding him in the now. Keal's hands moved in tandem with hers—calming, claiming. They worked in rhythm, one pressing soft kisses down his stomach, the other wrapping him in strong arms. Rivan gasped, a sound half-pain, half-joy.
This was not about lust—it was about presence. About being seen. Cherished. Wanted.
The pleasure they gave him was unhurried, intentional. Every sigh, every shudder was met with a kiss. With a whispered promise. With the softest moan of his name.
When he finally broke beneath their devotion, they didn't let go. Loira curled into his chest. Keal behind him again, wrapping them all in warmth.
Tears slipped down Rivan's cheek, but they weren't from pain. They were release. They were home.
Loira kissed them away.
Keal held him tighter.
They stayed tangled together. Breathing. Smiling. Quiet.
Loira rested her head on Keal's chest. Rivan lay between them, both arms wrapped around them. Their fingers linked across him.
"I love you both," she whispered.
"You're our heart," Keal said.
"Our home," Rivan added.
The moonlight spilled across their bodies like a benediction.
They had been broken, scattered across time and regret. But tonight, they were together.
And together, they were whole.
Forever.
Later that night, long after the lights in the villa dimmed and the gentle hum of the city fell into stillness, the three of them remained wrapped in each other. Rivan lay between them, warm and safe, his head resting against Loira's chest while Keal's fingers traced idle patterns along his arm. There was a peace in the silence now—not the silence that came from avoidance, but the kind that came from knowing there was nothing left to hide.
"I thought I'd lost this," Rivan whispered, eyes half-closed, his voice laced with emotion. "You. Us."
"You didn't lose us," Loira murmured, her lips brushing the crown of his head. "We were just waiting. Hurting. Healing."
Keal's voice rumbled quietly, soothing and sure. "You carried too much alone. But now, you're not alone anymore."
Rivan shifted, his hand reaching out to grasp Keal's. "You should've hated me."
"I tried," Keal admitted with a soft chuckle, brushing his thumb across Rivan's knuckles. "But love doesn't work that way. You were always part of me. Of us."
Loira smiled, tears gathering in her eyes. "We hurt because we loved. And now… we heal because we still do."
They lay there in the quiet, holding each other, breath syncing in slow unison. The air between them was full of soft promises, the kind that didn't need to be spoken aloud.
Eventually, Loira sat up slightly, running her fingers through both their hair. "We should sleep. Big day tomorrow."
Rivan blinked, curious. "What's tomorrow?"
Keal grinned. "Doesn't matter. Every day's a big day now that we're together."
The laughter was soft but real. Rivan melted into their touch once more, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as his eyes finally closed.
Outside, the stars burned bright over the villa. Inside, three souls lay intertwined in the safety of love rebuilt.
No ghosts left to haunt them.
Only each other.
Only home.