A WEEK LATER

Dylan bought Antoine an iPad despite the fact that I told him that he was too young to own one. He could break it, easily misplace it, or come across things I did not want him to see at three-years-old. Dylan, though, said that it was fine– it would keep him occupied, and he'd bought some thick, neon green cover so he could never lose it or break it. All he wanted to do was spoil Leo like I spoiled his kids.

Leo would find a way, though. He always did.

Antoine helped him download some games that he'd downloaded for his younger siblings and Leo was now obsessed with it. I was currently reading through a magazine that had pictures of Isaac and me at a café, Leo on the latter's lap. After appearing at the club with Isaac, the paparazzi would not leave me alone. They wanted the inside scoop into our 'relationship', even when I continuously denying its existence.

The gossip magazine was exploring the possibility that Leo was Isaac's despite the kid looking nothing like him. Dylan wanted me to hire a bodyguard until the entire thing blew over, and I kept putting it off because they were slowly beginning to leave me the fuck alone.

My phone buzzed, a text from Lili informing me that Dean wanted to speak to me. I set down the magazine, a shuddering breath escaping my lips. I guess today was it, then. I haven't spoken to Dean since the night at the club, and it's given me some peace of mind. Seeing him would only make me anxious about what he was going to say. I returned the text with a thumbs up and glanced at Leo, his grey eyes concentrating on the screen of the iPad.

How big of a temper tantrum would he throw if I hid that thing?

A knock on the door interrupted my train of thought. I yelled a, "Come in!", and Dean opened the door, and closed it behind him. In his hand was a cardboard tray with three takeaway cups.

"Hey," He greeted standing in the middle of the room. He brought the tray up to his chest, "Are you free to talk now?"

I nodded, cocking my chin towards the chair so he could take a seat, "Yeah, sure."

He placed the tray on his lap when he sat down, "I brought the coffee here since I didn't think you'd want to deal with the paparazzi. I even brought Leo orange juice– I took a guess at what he might like."

My lips tugged up into a smile, "Thank you," I said sincerely, glancing at Leo. "Leo, viens ici, il y a de jus d'orange."

His head snapped up at the mention of the juice, and he turned off the iPad before running towards me. I picked up the small plastic cup and placed a straw through the lid before giving it to him.

"Say thank you to uncle Dean," I said in a motherly voice, cocking my head towards the director.

"Merci!" He shouted gleefully, lifting the straw up to his lips to take a seat.

"It's no problem," Dean chuckled before picking up a takeaway cup with steam coming out of it. He handed it to me, "I remembered your order from... Anyways, a cappuccino for you."

"Thanks," I whispered, palming the cup with both my hands.

He lifted his cup to his lips and winced once the hot liquid met his lips. He swallowed the sip and cleared his throat, "I'm so sorry for the way I left."

So we were going to jump right into it.

"I just want an explanation, Dean," I muttered, my lips brushing over the lid of the takeaway cup. "You didn't say goodbye."

"No, I didn't," He agreed with a shake of his head. He wiped his palm on his trousers, "Did you get my gift and the letter?"

I replied with a nod and he thinned his lips, "Mom and dad didn't support my career decision. They wanted me to take over the business– dad had even paid for my tuition at some prestigious business university, but I didn't want to go. I never told them about how I'd applied to many art and film schools; I didn't tell them I got a full-ride scholarship."

I took a sip of the cappuccino, and he took that as a signal to continue talking, "The only day I could leave was on your prom night. Mom and dad were away on a business trip, the housekeeper wasn't home and Daniel was at some sleepover– nobody could stop me."

I swallowed thickly as he said the next words, "Except for you."

"I would have never stopped you–"

He shook his head, making me falter mid-sentence, "I loved you, Amber. I knew you would never stop me from chasing my dreams– if anything, I would have never done it if it weren't for all your encouraging words. I just knew that if I went to prom with you, I would have never left. I was convinced you were it for me, and I knew that if I took one look at you and told you I was leaving, I wouldn't go through with it."

Despite the coffee I was drinking, my mouth felt dry when he explained everything.

"So you never showed up."

"So I never showed up," He repeated, glancing down at his lap. "I ignored your calls that night and when I felt like Mr. Amity had convinced you to leave the house, I left mine to go to yours. I talked to Mrs. Amity and gave her the gift and the letter. I told her to tell you that I was so sorry."

"She did," I whispered. "After Dylan took us out to dinner. She came up to my room and gave me everything."

He smiled faintly before it disappeared, "When I got to Italy– it was where I studied– I got a new phone and a phone number so nobody could track me. I opened up a new bank account, and used the money I had saved up from my allowance to pay for rent and other necessities."

I frowned, "You could have said something through social media; Skype–"

He cut me off, "After about a week of avoiding my phone, I unlocked it. Do you know what the first thing I saw was?" I shook my head and he smiled. "A picture of me and you at the beach."

I thought I knew what he was talking about. He and I had gone out to the beach with some of his friends, and somebody snapped a picture of us mid-water-fight.

"Everything that I did finally settled in. I just left you without saying good-bye, and I felt like shit. What kind of boyfriend had I been? Nobody in their right minds would leave the love of their life without so much as a good-bye. That's when reality hit me– maybe I just wasn't good enough for you."

I blinked, "Dean, what you did was really shitty. You've ignored all my messages on Instagram."

"Trust me," He chuckled humourlessly. "If anybody knew how shitty my departure was, it was me. When I realized how much I fucked up, I also realized that you were better off without me. You deserved someone who wouldn't just leave you wordlessly, Amber. You deserved the world."

"So, what?" I snapped. "You made the decision to end our relationship; to ignore me for years on end because you thought you weren't good enough for me? Did what I think not matter?"

"Do you remember that time I took you out to the arcade after I helped Mrs. Amity move in?"

"Yeah, but what does that have to–"

"We were eating frozen yogurt, and you overheard some girl telling somebody else that she missed them over the phone. You stared at her and started talking about how you found long-distance relationships very 'mentally tiring'. Those were your honest words, Amber, and I didn't want you to go through with something you weren't interested in; something that would only tire you out."

"I would've tried, Dean. If you just fucking replied to any of my texts, I would've forgiven you–"

"I didn't deserve your forgiveness. I knew deep down that long-distance wouldn't work. Can you honestly tell me that you think it would have lasted?" He asked, looking me directly in the eyes.

I blinked and leaned back into my chair. Did I think it would have lasted? I wasn't one for long-distance because I didn't think I could cope with not having my significant-other right next to me. It was a hassle– the time difference; planning calls around your personal life; missing them all the time.

"No," I breathed out, raking my fingers through my hair. "It wouldn't have worked out."

"I never wanted you to hate me, Amber," He said, his voice dripping with honesty. "I wanted you to move on, though, and the only way to do that in my twisted, teenage mind, was by ignoring you entirely. A few years later though, when you congratulated me on winning an award, I realized how fucking stupid I was."

"It was pretty fucking stupid," I said through a breathy chuckle making him smile. "Wait– you read my messages?"

He rubbed his nape awkwardly, "I just turned off my read receipts. I always got your messages though, and I saw your posts on Instagram or the articles you published on a magazine website."

He cleared his throat and placed both his hands on my desk, "That's my explanation. I thought I was doing the right thing up until I realized I wasn't, and by then it was too late. I'm so sorry for the way I left things, Amber, but I don't regret leaving and that's the truth."

I flattened my lips and decided to review his explanation. While we were dating, I'd always encouraged him to apply to the film schools, despite his parents' lack of support. I wanted him to be as ambitious as I was, and he did exactly what I hoped he would. He just did it in a really shitty way. Despite how fucking stupid he was, I couldn't deny the fact that he was just a teenager when that happened; what mattered was that he realized he was stupid.

I didn't want to hold a grudge against him for my entire life.

My lips tugged up into a genuine smile, "I'm just happy you pursued your dreams, Dean. That's all I ever wanted from you. Sure, the way you went about it all fucking sucked, but at the end of the day, I wouldn't be me if I didn't support you. I just wish we could've ended on different terms."

He let out a relieved breath, "So, do you think that you can forgive me for my idiocy?"

"Of course. Being angry with you is tiring, you know?" I chuckled, which made him release a breathy laugh. "I did move on from you eventually, and that's all that matters at this point. I just really needed the closure– my old therapist said it would be good for me."

He completely brushed over the fact that I used to see a therapist, something I was thankful for, and grinned, "Thank God," He collapsed onto the chair. "I really wanted you to not hate me. I kind of missed hanging out with you."

"I kind of missed hanging out with you too," I replied, standing up from my seat to walk around the table. My phone buzzed on my desk but I ignored it as I outstretched my arms. If possible, his grin widened considerably and accepted my invitation for a hug.

With the side of my face pressed up against his chest, "I am never dating you again, though," I laughed, making his chest vibrate with chuckles.

He pulled away from the hug and shot me a pointed look, "Who said I even wanted to date you again? All you did was sleep." He retorted playfully.

I gasped, feigning offense, "All you did was play on that goddamned PS4–"

The door burst open, "Bee, why the fuck are there..." Dylan's voice trailed off as he scrutinized the man standing in my office. Dean's eyes widened in alarm and he stood up straight. My brother's expression contorted to one of anger, "You."

Dean gulped audibly, "Hello, Mr. Amity, how have you been–"

Dylan cut him off, "The fuck are you doing here, kid?" His eyes flickered between him and I. I repressed the urge to laugh at Dean's cowering figure– my brother really scared him. "Is he trying to get back together with you? I didn't like him then and I sure as hell don't–"

"Sir, I–"

He pointed a finger at the director, "You, shut the fuck up." He seethed, eyes narrowing into thin slits. "I've got half a mind not to rearrange your fucking face."

"O-kay!" I sounded, getting between the two men when Dylan took a threatening step forward. "Calm down, Dylan. Dean was just apologizing for everything that happened."

Dylan pursed his lips, "Still don't fucking like him," He said, peering over me to stare him down. "Get out of here, kid."

"Yes, sir," He said with a nod. With a quick pat on my shoulder, he rounded around Dylan and me to avoid being in the former's vicinity and all but bolted out the door.

As soon as he disappeared, my brother sighed, letting a smile grace his lips as he looked at me, "Come on, my flight leaves in five hours and I want to have lunch with my baby sister and favorite nephew before I leave."

I blinked, confused as to why he wasn't bringing Dean up, "I'm not a baby anymore," I grumbled, walking over to Leo who picked up the iPad once again. I yanked it out of his hold, giving him a look that read 'don't you even dare cry' and placed it aside as I picked up his discarded hoodie.

Dylan scoffed, "You'll always be a baby to me," He said, picking up Leo when he ran towards him. My brother flipped him upside down, his arms wrapped tightly around his legs as he screamed excitedly. "I did this to you once when you were a kid and dad yelled at me for thirty minutes."

"Maybe it's because he thought you were trying to kill me," I quipped, picking up a small purse I kept in my drawers. I placed my wallet and phone in before turning around to find Leo on Dylan's shoulders.

My brother rolled his eyes and went to open the door for me, "I've never wanted to kill anyone in my life," He responded, clicking his tongue as he thought about it. "Well, besides Nick, that fucker and fucker two-point-oh."

He didn't even have to elaborate. I knew that 'that fucker' was Dean and the other was Adam.

•••

"No phones at the table," Dylan chided before putting a forkful of steak into his mouth. I huffed but locked my phone nonetheless, placing it back into my purse.

Since my name was still in the media, my brother called the restaurant in advance and asked for a private seating– a bit dramatic of him, but it felt nice to have lunch without the background noise that consisted of people's chatter. We were seated on a long rectangular table; adults on one side and children on the other.

Cody was sitting next to Leo, which meant that Céline was sitting next to him since the two were inseparable. Antoine sat next to his mother, who was opposite me. Dylan sat at the head of the table because he always did.

"So, hun, how was your day today?" Rose asked, stealing a fry or two from Antoine's plate. The oldest son didn't complain, instead, he stuffed his face with the fried chicken sandwich he ordered.

"It was pretty good," I smiled. Almost immediately, Dylan scoffed, rolling his eyes. The action didn't go unnoticed by his wife, whose eyebrows knitted in confusion.

Her eyes flickered between me and my brother, "Am I missing something?"

Dylan kissed his teeth, "The kid's back."

I slapped my forehead and dragged my hand down my face, "He has a name you know."

"Don't care," He chirped just as Rose asked, "Who does?"

I glanced at her, "Dean," Her eyebrows raised with surprise. I pushed the peas on my plate with my fork, "He's filming in the building, which is why the street is blocked off."

"He's been here for a while?" Dylan asked, eyes wide. "And you never told me?"

I snorted, "The fuck would I tell you for? You don't need a murder on your plate."

"I haven't seen Dean since he came over about ten years ago," Rose thought aloud, glancing at Antoine. "Tony was less than a year-old back then. Did you two talk?"

I nodded, nudging Leo with my arm so he could eat the pasta I'd ordered for him, "He explained everything and apologized."

"Did you forgive him?" She questioned, taking another fry from Antoine, who knew better than to protest.

"Yeah. We're all good now." A sound arose from the back of Dylan's throat, making me glance at him, an eyebrow quirked. "What? What is it now?"

"Can I not not like somebody?" He asked rhetorically, aggressively cutting through his steak. "If the two of you get back together–"

"You do know that two people can be friends after they date, right?" I cut him off, my tone borderline incredulous. "I'm not interested in him any more– him leaving me was enough to turn me off."

Rose giggled when Dylan's face scrunched up in disgust, "Don't say shit like that."

Dylan never liked Dean for reasons I never understood. Come to think of it, he didn't like Adam either. Maybe it was just the fact that he didn't like anybody I dated– he didn't even like the thought of me dating. I once went to a party when I was at university and hooked up with some guy. I made the mistake of telling Rose, who then accidentally told my brother. Dylan grounded me for two weeks, even though I was in an entirely different country.

"I'm not a virgin anymore, big bro," I said, ruffling Leo's head of hair. "I've even got proof."

"Shut the fuck up," He sneered, lifting two hands up to cover his ears. "There are things I just don't need to know."

"What's a virgin?" Antoine asked after swallowing his last bite of the sandwich.

Rose choked on her salad while Dylan groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation.

"Ask your dad later, Antoine," I said, smirking when my brother's head snapped in my direction, glaring daggers at me. "He'll explain everything."

He shrugged, "Okay." He chirped, popping a fry into his mouth.

I grinned at my brother, "Good luck with that, Dyl."

He scowled, "Just for that, you're paying the fucking bill when it comes."

Antoine was a curious soul, so when he wanted to know something, he refused to let it go until somebody explained it to him. That meant that Dylan would be giving him 'the talk' way sooner than he'd wanted to. Antoine wouldn't forget to bring this up again, I was certain of it.

I felt a tug on my shirt and when I glanced down, I found my son staring up at me, his mouth coated in tomato sauce. I chuckled at the sight and picked up the napkin from his lap to wipe it away, "Mama," He spoke as I held his face in place. "Can I go with Coco and Cece?"

I shook my head, "Non, mon cher," I said softly, watching as his face fell. "They have to go back home since tonton and auntie have to work."

"Would you really want to leave your mama all alone?" Rose chipped in, tilting her head as she pouted. "I think she'd miss you so very much if you left her alone."

Leo shook his head, outstretching his arms, fists clenching then unclenching; a sign he wanted me to pick him up. I placed him on my lap and hugged him tight, "I want to stay with mama." He decided.

"Your mama is mean," Dylan grumbled, piercing the steak with his fork.

"No," Leo snapped back defensively, crossing his arms over his stomach. "Mama is the best."

Dylan lifted his hands in mock surrender, eyes flickering between Leo and me, "The resemblance in attitude is uncanny," He commented before taking the final bite of his food.

The waiter entered the room to check up on us, and when he saw the empty plates, he asked if we'd like the check. I nodded and he left to grab it.

"When's your flight leaving?" I asked, grabbing my purse to get my wallet.

Rose checked her phone, "Three hours and a half," She replied glancing at Dylan. "That gives us enough time to grab our luggage from the hotel before heading off to the airport."

The waiter returned with the check, and I handed him my credit card making Dylan narrow his eyes at me, "The fuck are you doing? I'm paying."

"Shut up," I said, tapping my credit card against the card machine to pay for our lunch. "You're the one who said I was paying."

"Do you not understand what a joke is?"

"I understand good ones," I quipped, thanking the waiter when he gave me the receipt. He nodded and walked out of the private room. "It's my treat anyways."

"Dad would kill me if I made you pay for lunch," Dylan muttered, pinching the skin between his eyebrows.

"His ghost can haunt you during the flight, then," I chirped, pushing my chair back. "Come on. Dylan's going to blow a gasket if he's not at the airport three hours before your flight leaves."

•••

After Dylan drove the rental car to the airport, I bade everybody good-bye while trying to calm Leo down, who was adamant about not letting them leave. After Dylan told me he'd be keeping tabs on Dean and me, he gave me a tight hug and pushed everybody through passport control. Leo and I watched as they disappeared into the airport before deciding to return to work. I gave Leo my phone to calm him down before getting into a taxi.

As soon as we entered the office, Leo immediately ran to his iPad. He took a seat on the bench and unlocked it to play whatever game he was playing. I, on the other hand, had to review plans for the next magazine issue. Tying my hair up into a messy bun, I uncapped my pen and began to make notes on a random post-it note.

I took a sip of the coffee Dean got me, grimacing when I realized it was cold and disgusting now. My eyes swept over my desk, my gaze falling on a gossip magazine different to the one I was reading this morning. Isaac and I managed to make the front cover; somebody had taken a picture of us dancing at the club and sold it to them. I chuckled at the heading; 'Isaac Jacobs and Amber Amity– are they a thing now?'.

My gaze then averted to my laptop, and I suddenly remember I had work I needed to complete. Letting out a heavy breath, I opened my laptop to finish the work I'd started this morning.

Thirty minutes later, there was a knock on my door. I glanced at my phone, tapping the screen to check if I had a message from Emile informing me of a meeting– none. I furrowed my eyebrows but told the person on the other side to enter.

The door opened and I was met by what looked like a twenty-year-old dressed in jeans and a polo shirt. He had an envelope in his hands.

"Are you Miss Amber Amity?" He asked from the doorway. I nodded hesitantly and he smiled before stepping forward.

He handed me the official-looking envelop, my gaze falling on a familiar emblem.

"You've been summoned."

And with those three words, he turned around and left the office, making sure to close the door behind him.

•••

– 18/07/20

oooooh what's happening now? What's in the letterrrrrrrr¿¿¿¿

I'm pretty excited to write the next chapter.

It's gonna b v dramatic (maybe)

Update might be late, though, since I'm going on vacation for a bit :p