Epilogue

Twenty-Five Years Later

Braxton Patridge hadn't smelt the air of freedom in more than two decades. Sure, he'd had his half-hour daily exercise in the prison courtyard, but it didn't feel the same.

Stepping out onto the concrete ground, no longer behind the walls of his sentence, he felt something shift in his chest, something loosened within him. The hardness he had to build up was still present, but less severe now.

He spotted the car parked a few hundred metres away. Nodding to the guard posted outside the prison, he took his first few steps on the solid ground towards the car park.

He took a deep breath as the faces behind the windscreen became clearer. Two in the front, one peering through from the back seat.

Three of the car doors opened. Sof was the first to reach him, slamming her slim body into his frame with all her might. She'd visited him many times, along with his other two siblings, but it was still strange to have missed so much of her life.

She'd aged beautifully, being in her early forties now. Her hair had been cut into a bob since the last time he'd seen her. She was happily married to Beckett for more than a decade. Cash had retired from the bar nearly ten years ago now and they'd been running it together ever since. She'd had two sons and although Braxton's chest ached at the thought that he'd missed a few years of their lives, he received plenty of photos in letters to try and make up for the lost time.

In his cell, he'd stuck up all the photos he'd been given over the years until they nearly covered his whole wall. His cellmate, Dodge, called him a sentimental fuck, but he didn't care.

Dodge once asked about one picture in particular that he had found under Braxton's pillow, but after a fistfight where Dodge lost, he learnt not to ask. The photo of her had faded over time, but Braxton held onto it always. It was his only one.

"Welcome home, brother," Sof whispered into his shoulder, kissing his cheek.

It felt strange to feel any human touch. He'd tried to keep away from people in prison. He didn't want to make friends or enemies. Even a handshake from Marco startles him now.

Wearing a shit-eating grin, Marco throws an arm around Braxton. He'd visited the most, steering clear of marriage and children and choosing to hang out in Sof's bar as the bar manager and constant customer. He never seemed to complain, though. He always had a new girlfriend each time he'd visited Braxton.

"Thank fuck that's over. Nice to see you without a glass screen in front of your face." Marco grabs Braxton's bag, walking to the car as Sof follows.

"Hey, mate," Xavier begins.

It takes Braxton a moment to look at his twin without feeling the resentment that had nearly eaten him alive in prison. It had taken many years for Brax to feel that he could begin to forgive his brother.

"How've you been?"

It felt like a strange question to ask someone who had just spent twenty-five years in prison but the brothers hadn't seen each other in a long time now. Braxton had cut him from the list of visitors he allowed twenty years ago.

Betrayal simmered in the back of Braxton's mind, but he'd been willing to let go of his grudge a while ago. It was Xavier who stopped visiting him, Brax just wanted to hold the power by removing his name from the visitor list.

He looked at Xavier and noticed that the years had been harsh on him. Deep lines formed along his head, and his hair sprouted entirely grey hairs. His mouth seemed to pull into a frown when it relaxed. They were nearing fifty in a few years, but Brax felt smug that he had kept himself in better shape.

He'd worked out every day in prison, keeping himself busy, especially his mind. It loved to wander at any given moment.

It didn't matter, though, he thought. He'd still lost what meant the most in the end.

"Better now," Brax nods, clearing his throat as he walks towards the car.

He notices Marco and Sof watching with trepidation as Brax climbs into the passenger seat. "You reckon you'd still be able to drive?" Marco jokes.

"Guess we'll find out soon enough," Brax grunts.

Xavier shuts the driver's side door and the car falls into a deep silence. Once the engine turns on, the car fills with a song that Brax doesn't recognise. Just another little detail that he'd missed out on, all the new songs he wouldn't know existed. He looks out the window as they leave the car park. He watches the prison as it disappears in the distance.

"Where would you like to go eat?" Sof asks warmly, grasping his shoulder.

"I'd honestly just love a home-cooked meal," Braxton answers.

"Coming right up then. We can all come back to mine, you can finally meet the boys, Brax. They've been dying to meet their uncle. They made you some drawings."

"Sounds great, Sof," Brax says, watching her excitement in the rearvision mirror.

He'd missed his sister the most. He'd wanted so badly to watch her grow up. It caused him great pain in prison, not being at her wedding and getting to hold the boys when they were born.

It was nearly as painful as thinking about her. He still found it hard to say her name, even after all this time.

"Should I invite, um..."

The car falls silent and Xavier clears his throat. "It's her day off today so I'm sure she'd be...willing. I'll give—"

"Actually," I interject, "I'd like to see Rhea myself. Just... me."

He hadn't said her name out loud in a long time. The photo he kept of her was all he had left. He didn't know what she looked like now. He barely knew a thing about her.

Yet he still knew, deep inside, that he loved her unconditionally.

"I don't know if—"

"I think that's a good idea," Sof stops Xavier.

The rest of the drive is filled with snippets of life that Brax had missed. It breaks his heart more than his siblings could ever know.

"Mum will be happy to see you," Xavier says as they pull into the driveway. "It's all she's been talking about for the past month. She should be home by dinner."

Their mother had finally managed to get herself sober in the last few years and she'd been regularly running a narcotics anonymous group, several times a week. She was getting older, but nothing seemed to be slowing her down now. It was the healthiest she'd been in years.

Marco and Sof exit the car when they pull up outside a house Brax knows must be Sof and Beckett's. The front door opens and a much older-looking Beckett opens the door, swiftly kissing Sof as she makes her way inside. Brax notices him peer over towards the car, waving towards Brax.

Brax offers him a nod before he disappears inside after Marco.

"I'm not sure where to start," Xavier begins.

"It's been a long time. I was just a kid when it all happened. I don't hold it against you now."

"I'm sorry."

"You should have visited."

"You wouldn't allow it."

"I mean before that. You didn't write either."

"I'm sorry, Braxton. I'm not good at this."

Brax looks at his brother and he knows the years have been hard. He knows he has hurt over decisions that have been made. He doesn't have it in him to feel anger. He just wants to live the rest of his life in peace now. He is not the same man that entered the prison.

His whole life all he knew was hurt, pain and anger and now he was a middle-aged man who had lost so much time stuck in those negative emotions. He didn't want to be like that anymore.

"I forgive you."

Xavier pats his brother on the shoulder. He knows they have a long way to go but at least they have begun the journey.

"Now, can you take me to see her?" Braxton asks.

Xavier looks away, nodding before turning on the engine.

———————————————————————————————————

Rhea Thurman's law degree hangs above the mantle piece. She feels embarrassed that it is there most days, but every time it is taken down, she finds it back in the same place only a few hours later.

She was proud of her accomplishments, but she wasn't one to brag. Beside the frame degree was a picture of Rhea, Maia and Layla. It was taken nearly twenty years ago at Maia and Dean's shotgun wedding, several months before they had their daughter. She thinks for a moment how much time has passed so quickly.

Her front door unlocks and she recognises the familiar steps of her son's feet without looking away from the picture. "Hi, honey," she calls from her place on the couch.

"Hey," he calls back. "How was your day?"

Her son steps into the lounge and she feels a burst of pride seeing him standing there in his suit, brown hair slicked back, coming home from his assistant job at Rhea's firm. He was still her little boy but now at twenty-two, he looked more and more like a grown man.

Where had all the time gone?

"It was lazy," Rhea smiled, stretching out her arms as she stood from the couch. "Did some research for my next case."

"On your day off?" her son rolls his eyes. "You can never relax."

"Research is my form of meditation," Rhea muses, walking into the kitchen. "What would you like for dinner?" she calls, tying her long hair back from her face.

When he doesn't respond to her, Rhea pops her head around the doorframe, wondering if he hasn't heard her. Instead, she finds him peering out through the curtains, staring down their long driveway.

"Is that...were we expecting Dad today?" he asks her.

Rhea frowns, shaking her head. "I don't think so. You know what he's like though, always popping in whenever he wants."

Rhea turned back towards the kitchen, thinking about what kind of meal she was in the mood for tonight.

"Hey, uh, Mum? I don't think it's Dad."

"What, honey?"

Before she got a response, the doorbell rang. "I'm surprised he's bothered to ring the bell," Rhea says aloud.

Her relationship with her son's father had been turbulent after their split. There had been a brief custody battle before they'd both agreed to fix their issues outside of court. After all, it had always been more about spite than anything else.

Rhea's heart had always belonged to one man, and it wasn't her son's father.

It wasn't Xavier Patridge.

She didn't regret the on-and-off relationship she'd had with Xavier that ended almost twenty-two years ago. It had brought her a beautiful baby boy after all.

They were perfectly amicable now. Xavier often liked to visit the farmhouse that Rhea lived in. She moved about two hours from the city, wanting a life of peace and normalcy for her son. It was something she'd missed out on growing up.

Rhea hears the front door open and a few brief words are spoken from her son. "Are you staying for dinner, Xav?" she calls.

When she is met with silence, Rhea sighs. She's clutching a wooden spoon when she walks into the foyer and it instantly hits the hardwood floors beneath her when she is met with the man standing at her front door.

It was nearing six o'clock on a Friday evening. On a random Friday that Rhea did not think would have any impact on her life. It was just like any other regular day for her until it wasn't.

Her breath catches in her throat and for a moment, she is stunned into silence.

"You're not Xavier," she whispers, dumbly.

"No," Braxton smiles sadly, "I don't believe I am."

In the years since Braxton had chosen to confess, Rhea had dealt with a lifetime of heartache over the man she had loved dearly. Their relationship had been far from perfect and over time she'd realised that love wasn't always enough in the end.

"Sorry, are you—are you my Uncle?"

Rhea clears her throat, blinking rapidly. She tries to find the right words to begin, but she doesn't know how.

"Yes, I'm Xavier's brother. Braxton," Brax outstretches his hand and the two men shake.

"I'm Casey," Rhea's son says.

Something passes behind Brax's eyes, a wave of sadness Rhea thinks. He looks over at Rhea and it takes everything within her to hold his gaze.

"Would you like to come in?" she finally says.

"If I'm not intruding. I know the timing is quite...random."

Rhea had known that Brax was due to be released this year, she just hadn't asked for the details. It had been easier over the years to try and seperate herself as much as she could from Brax's life in prison.

"Not at all," Casey says. "Mum was just about to start dinner. You should stay."

Rhea had never been more grateful for her son's confident personality. He was such a warm soul, just like the young boy he'd been named after.

"Oh, I don't—"

"Stay," Rhea says. "For dinner. You should stay."

Brax blinks once, clearing his throat. "If you're sure?"

Rhea felt suddenly, with all of her heart, that she had never been as sure about anything. She needed him to stay.

"I am," Rhea insists.

Something seems to pass behind Brax's eyes before he blinks, looking towards his nephew. Rhea wonders what he must be thinking about right now, whether it had anything to do with the name she had given her son.

"Why don't you both sit?" she says. "The food is almost ready."

Casey leads the way, talking to Brax like they've known each other for years. It was a skill that Rhea admired in her son. He always knew how to make people feel comfortable.

She was sure, deep down, that more than Casey's name had been passed on to her son.

Deep laughter erupts and Rhea feels a sudden pang in her chest. She hadn't heard that laugh in a long time, not even when she really knew Brax did he make that sound.

She wonders for a moment what life would have been like these past twenty-five years if things had been different.

"Can I help with anything in here?"

Rhea looks over her shoulder, still wondering if she is dreaming. She can't quite believe just how well he has aged in prison. She thought the conditions would be harsh on him. She had been very, very wrong.

Clearing her throat, she looks away from Brax. "No. I'm all good in here."

"I'm sorry," he says suddenly. "If me being here is too weird. I can always—"

"No," she says. "No, I promise. It's fine."

"Because I really–"

"Brax."

"Rhea," he says, almost breathless.

"I've waited twenty-five goddamn years for this moment. So please, shut up and go and sit down."

At first, Brax can't seem to find the words. He had forgotten just how stern Rhea could be.

"If that's what you want," he smiles.

She rolls her eyes.

Brax couldn't believe that despite how much time had passed, it felt as though no time had passed at all in that moment.

"It's really good that you're back, Brax," Rhea says, softly.

He feels the sudden tenderness emitting from her voice and he wonders, fleetingly, if maybe he still has a chance.

"I'm glad to be back, Rhea."