Chapter 278 Julian’s Fifth Birthday

Chapter 278 Julian’s Fifth Birthday
The silence between Evan and Aidan was… loaded. Not angry, not cold—just weighted. This was the first time they’d faced each other in years, and it wasn’t just family tension hanging between them.
It was Millie.
Evan stuffed his hands in his pockets. “You’re really here,” he muttered. “Didn’t believe it till I saw you with my own eyes.”
Aidan gave a loose shrug, his posture calm but guarded. “Been traveling a lot,” he said. “Here, there, Sydney. Keeps me busy.”
“Jet lag suits you,” Evan said, dryly.
The corner of Aidan’s mouth quirked up. “Better than emotional baggage.”
A chuckle snuck out of Evan, almost surprised. He glanced down, then back up. “Thanks for coming, though. Took you long enough to show your face.”
Aidan smirked faintly. “Thought five years was an appropriate buffer.”
“You skipped our wedding.”
“I know.”
“Skipped Julian’s birth.”
“I know.”
“Skipped two baby showers.”
“Alright,” Aidan said, raising a hand. “Message received.”
Evan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Still… I’m glad you’re here."
Aidan nodded, gaze flicking toward the kids laughing in the distance. “I’ll try to be around more. Julian. Gretel. They deserve to know the cooler uncle.”
That earned a genuine laugh from Evan. Then the mood shifted, just slightly. Quieter. Closer.
“I’m not sure if I should say this,” he started, “but I will anyway… I’m sorry it didn’t work out between you and Millie.”
Aidan’s brows rose, and he let out a snort. “Come on, Evan,” he said, shaking his head. “I know you’re not sorry.”
Evan chuckled. “Yeah, you’re right,” he admitted, his tone light but honest. “I’m not.”
There was a pause. Then Aidan spoke again. “You were right, you know. I didn’t deserve her."
“Come on,” Evan said. “I think I just said it to piss you off.”
Aidan let out a quiet laugh, the sound easy and real, like it came from someplace settled inside him. “No, you didn’t,” he said, then paused, the smile fading.
"Back then, I didn’t know what love meant. I thought I did. And I actually thought sharing her with Ethan was a solution. I was pathetic and desperate.” He swallowed. “But that wasn’t just love. That was fear and ego, and she deserved better than that.”
Evan’s jaw tightened, not out of anger, but because the truth of it sat heavy between them.
“You weren’t used to losing,” he said. “You never had to fight for anything before.”
Aidan nodded, slow and thoughtful. “Until her.”
There was a quiet between them, not awkward anymore—just real.
Then he exhaled, hands in his pockets. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad she chose you. I mean, you’re still a madman, I'm sure—but you make her happy. I can see it. And I’m glad you’re not screwing this up. If you ever do, always remember that I’m here, and I won’t hesitate to sweep her away from you.”
Evan shook his head, smiling. “Yeah, I know.” Then his face shifted. “Millie told me Clara changed you.” He glanced toward Clara, who was across the room, throwing her head back in laughter.
“Yeah,” Aidan said, a fond smile tugging at his lips. “Clara’s a good friend. Brutally honest, and calls me out when I’m being an idiot.”
Evan smirked, leaning back in his chair. “I still can’t believe you’re actually friends with a woman. Like—actual friends.”
Aidan grinned. “Yeah, believe me, neither can I.” He looked back toward Clara. “But she’s different. I think my good looks just irritate her, honestly.”
Evan chuckled, but Aidan’s voice grew more serious.
“She’s been through hell. And she’s still standing. She told me her therapist said she’s making real progress lately. Said the nightmares stopped.”
Evan’s smirk faded. “That thing that happened to her… really messed up her head, huh?”
Aidan nodded, his jaw tight for a second before he answered. “Yeah. But she’s one of the bravest people I know. You can’t go through something like that and still have the kind of heart she does. But she does. She shows up. She tries. Every single day.”
There was a beat of silence between them, a companionable quiet. Then Evan shifted.
“And Ethan?”
The air changed. Aidan’s smile slipped, his gaze distant now.
“We haven’t talked,” he said quietly. “I think about him. But… he’s made his choice.” He looked down for a second, then back up. “The life we left behind—he didn’t walk away. He stayed. He’s neck-deep in it now. And I don’t even think he wants out.”
Evan didn’t respond right away. He just looked at Aidan, something like grief flickering in his eyes. Ethan’s absence was a reminder of the paths their family had taken.
Then a commotion near the driveway drew their attention.
Cheri, Ethan’s longtime associate, approached, leading a large, majestic horse adorned with a ribbon, its coat gleaming under the afternoon sun. The kids gasped, clustering around, their eyes wide with excitement.
Cheri caught Evan’s eye, offering a small smile as a man tethered the horse to a post. “Ethan couldn’t make it,” she said. “He’s in Europe. Sent me to bring this for Julian—his gift.”
Evan’s jaw tightened briefly, but he nodded, shaking Cheri’s hand. “Thanks for coming, Cheri,” he said. “Julian’ll love it.”
Aidan’s gaze flickered to the horse, then back to Evan. Millie, catching the exchange from across the lawn where she stood with Clara and the others, felt a pang of sadness. She’d dreamed of the brothers reuniting, of burying the past, but Ethan hadn’t shown up to any family celebration—not their wedding, not the kids’ birthdays. He hadn’t spoken to her, Evan, or even Aidan in years. Yet, as she watched Julian’s face light up at the sight of the horse, she realized absence could be its own kind of healing.
Some wounds closed best with distance.