25

Cynthia, my mom, hugs me like we have been parted for years, squeezing the absolute life out of me as tears wash down her pretty face. I hug her back awkwardly, a little stiff in her hold, but deep down somewhere inside of me is, a tug of genuine joy. We’re in the immaculate, beautiful hall of our home in The Hamptons, a place that used to be seem a fairytale castle to me so long ago. The home and family of my dreams and it had taken an age to accept it as real.

All my bags are sat by the stair as Arrick lingers behind, giving us the space to reacquaint now he has delivered my little homecoming speech on my behalf to tearful parents. He’s been my mature and loyal protector once more, doing the hard things, so I don’t have to.

A