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It’s a long flight.

Almost twelve hours, give or take the extra time they’ll spend boarding and deplaning, taxying on the runway at Logan or Daniel K.

His mom had sprung for first class seats for the both of them.

But that doesn’t stop him from feeling restless, as he and Casey settle into 3A and 3B and buckle their seat belts to get ready for takeoff. He’s got the aisle seat, and Bryce can see the rest of the passengers boarding around them; the plane is full of tourists excited for the opportunity to spend the holidays somewhere tropical, with their big smiles and eager chatter unaffected by the early flight time.

Casey had insisted they arrive exactly two hours before their seven o’clock departure, so on top of being anxious and jittery, he’s exhausted, too, with a headache already forming as he thinks about the family dinner that’s waiting for them on Oahu. 

As if she can read his mind, Casey’s hand settles warmly on his forearm, her fingers curling around his wrist. She leans past him to smile prettily at the flight attendant already making the rounds through first class, and even bats her eyelashes a little when she asks, “Excuse me? Could we get a couple of mimosas? And – two screwdrivers as well. Thank you.”

Only then does he realize how tense he is, and Bryce slumps back into his seat, looking over at her gratefully. “Sorry,” he murmurs, “I just…”

“I know.” Her eyes are as kind and patient as ever – as kind and patient as they were when she agreed to this mess in the first place. “I can’t imagine how weird this is going to be for you. I mean – you haven’t been home in ten years.”

That’s part of it, definitely. The other part is complicated because of her, and the selfishness he feels at having her by his side for whatever absurdity is about to happen. He both knows he shouldn’t be dragging Casey into his mess and greedily wants to take comfort from having her with him at the same time. 

It doesn’t help that Casey’s family is as wonderful as she is, either. They’d had not-Christmas with them last weekend, at the house she’d grown up in in New York. Her mom had been welcoming, her father had offered him a beer, her brother had peppered him with questions about cars and surgery and no one had asked him, not even once, about any facet of his life before college, as though he simply sprung into being at age eighteen. 

Things had been picture-perfect. And in eleven-and-a-half hours, Casey was going to see just how utterly opposite his own home life was. 

What would that do to their relationship?

“Yeah,” he mutters finally, just a beat too late. The flight attendant returns with their drinks, and he passes Casey’s two glasses over to her before going straight for his screwdriver, ignoring the arch of her eyebrows that follows in response. “Hey – to us. To our third Christmas together.”

Casey beams at him, lifting her glass and clinking it into his. “To us. I love you.”

Predictably, Casey finishes her drinks and goes straight to sleep on his shoulder, out like a beautiful light before the captain even turns off the fasten-seat belt sign. 

And then he’s alone with his thoughts, which is far from ideal. 

He has a long time to sit and stew on everything that can go wrong this week and probably will, from the moment they arrive at his mom’s house until they fly back on new year’s day – as soon as he could possibly get Casey out of there.

He also has plenty of time to worry about Casey, and what she might think about him after this week, and, more importantly, what he might be subjecting her to.

But she had insisted, when he first got the email from his mom and read it aloud to her, and there’s nothing he can do about that, now. 

The sun is just starting to dip when they land in Honolulu, and it’s hot even in the airport when they get off the plane. Casey is half-lidded and sleepy looking, tying her hoodie around her waist, and she leans against his side while they wait for their suitcases at baggage claim, murmuring unintelligibly into his shoulder.

Bryce does his best to soak up the few moments of quiet peace she provides, well aware that they’re likely to be the last they’ll have until they’re right back here, at the airport again. Unfortunately their bags come around quickly, some of the first off the carousel.

And of course his mother sent them a car with a driver, too.

Casey balks at the sight of the man waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs in a crisp black suit with a prim-and-proper sign, bearing their names in neat typeface. Dr. Bryce Lahela & Dr. Casey Valentine. 

“Woah,” she murmurs, “Is that –”

“Just wait,” he sighs in return, “You’ll see.”

The drive back to the house he grew up in is long and silent, Casey’s hand squeezed tightly in his as they both keep their eyes out the windows – hers looking at everything excitedly, as someone who’s never been on the island before, and his wary, taking in the sights he hasn’t seen since he left for college so long ago.

He was a completely different person, then. 

“Bryce?” Her voice startles him from his thoughts, her curious, uncertain tone making him look up at the gate they’re slowly sliding through. “This is your house?”

Technically, this is still only the driveway. “Sure is.”

He fights Casey for her suitcase so his hands can be full when they get inside. It’s not that his mom is a hugger, by any stretch, but, Jesus, he’ll take any insurance policy he can get. 

Casey shifts self-consciously in the opulent foyer that awaits them, stunning and empty. There’s cold marble everywhere and the sort of complete silence he’d grown accustomed to in the few months before he left home.

Then, a door opens, and a tiny blur of pink hair and blue jeans flies down the stairs to launch itself at Casey with a squeal.

“Ohmygod, you guys made it!” Keiki exclaims, “Thank god. I’ve been losing my mind here. You have no idea how bored I’ve been.” She beams at the both of them, looking them up and down before pulling a sympathetic face at Bryce and asking, “Long flight?”

Casey shuffles her feet uncomfortably again. “I knew we should’ve worn something else,” she sighs. Admittedly, they are in their comfy clothes. “You said this was fine.”

He drops his duffle to squeeze her shoulder reassuringly. “We’ll change before dinner.” Already dreading the answer, he turns towards Keiki and asks, “Where’s mom?”

Keiki rolls her eyes. “You will not believe –”

The sound of high heels on the tile cuts her off abruptly. Keiki gives them both one last unreadable look before lowering her eyes to the stairs, and he turns just in time to see his mother striding towards the both of them, a polite smile stretched across her face.

“Bryce, sweetheart. I knew I heard you. It’s so good to see you.” Her eyes flick to Casey. “And this must be Dr. Valentine.”

“Casey,” she says warmly, “Thank you so much for having me, Mrs. Lahela. It’s so nice to meet you.”

He watches them shake hands with a sense of foreboding dread that won’t seem to go away. 

“Please,” says his mother, “Call me Alaina. I must say, it’s a delight to finally meet you, too. I’ve read all about you in the news.”

Casey’s warm smile falters. It’s obvious from the tone of her voice what she means.

“Which part?” Bryce snaps, before he can stop himself, “When she took down a corrupt corporation or when she single-handedly saved Edenbrook from bankruptcy?”

His mom has the nerve to look affronted, lifting a hand to fiddle with the necklace she’s wearing. “Honestly, Bryce. Of course I didn’t mean anything by it. Only that it’s lovely to have you both here.” She pauses, turning her gaze on Keiki. “Darling, you’ll be changing before dinner, won’t you?”

“Yep,” Keiki sighs. Then, with only a nod at the both of them, she turns and darts back up the stairs, rushing off down the hall. He hears the door to her bedroom open and close.

“Well – we should probably go get ready, too,” Bryce says, to fill the suddenly suffocating silence. He lifts his duffle onto his shoulder so his hand is free to take Casey’s suitcase.

“Of course.” Her polite smile is back again like nothing happened, frozen on her face. “I had the staff make up one of the guest rooms for Casey.”

He pauses, one foot already on the stairs. “What? Why?”

“What do you mean?” She blinks at him. “You haven’t gotten married, yet, have you?”

That’s rich, coming from her. He purses his lips. “No, but we live together, in Boston. In a one-bedroom.”

Jesus Christ, he’s almost thirty years old. 

“Well, if you think you’ll both be more comfortable that way, then I suppose it’d be alright. I’ll see you both at seven?”

He turns and starts up the stairs without answering her, and only barely hears Casey rush to say, “Oh, absolutely,” before he tugs her along, leading her to his childhood bedroom.

“God,” she sighs, once the door is closed behind them both and he’s slumped back against it, rubbing at his forehead, “That could have gone better.”

“She’s impossible,” Bryce seethes, “That is so like her, to try and make us sleep in separate rooms. Like she has any room to judge anyone else’s fucking relationship. And that shit she said to you –”

“Hey, it’s fine,” Casey interjects gently, looking concerned, “I’m fine.”

“That’s not the point. She can’t just fucking talk to you like that.” He stops rubbing at his eyes, dropping his hands just in time to see Casey looking at him fondly. 

She sits down on the edge of his bed, opening her arms. “Come here.”

With a groan, he does, letting her pull him in and collapsing onto her for a hug.

It feels nice.

For about a minute, and then there’s a knock on his door. 

“I’m going to kill someone this week,” Bryce mumbles into her hair. Over the sound of Casey’s laughter, he calls out more loudly, “Go away.”

Keiki knocks harder, shouting back, “Shut up! It’s me.”

Casey gently nudges his shoulder with her own. “Open it.”

His sister stomps inside and drops dramatically down onto his bed beside Casey, spinning sideways and throwing her head directly in Casey’s lap. “I wasn’t sitting there, or anything,” he says, only to be ignored by the both of them.

“What’s wrong?” Casey asks honestly, like she really wants to know. God, does he love her. 

“Okay, so get this. What I was trying to tell you downstairs –” and here she looks at Bryce, her eyes wide. “She’s been talking to dad.”

That stops him in his tracks. “What?”

“It gets worse.” Keiki’s expression contorts into one of deep distaste. “She invited him to Christmas.”

He looks helplessly at Casey, but she’s staring back at him with similarly unsure eyes. He balks, brain whirring into overdrive as he tries to process what Keiki’s just told him. “She can’t be serious. He can’t be serious.”

“I heard them on the phone. She really leaned into you being here for the week. I think that’s what sold it.”

“Of course she did,” he huffs, “Because that’s what we are to her. Bargaining chips.”

“Hey,” Casey interrupts again, brushing her fingers through Keiki’s hair where her head is still thrown in her lap, “Maybe this is a good thing?”

“I don’t see how,” Bryce mutters, frowning.

“Well, maybe your dad wants to make amends, too. That’s why your mom invited you, isn’t it?” The expression on his face must be far from pleasant, because she corrects, “I mean, that’s why she said she invited you. For a new start.”

He sighs heavily, pushing a hand through his hair. “We should get out of here while we still can.”

“Uh, not without me,” Keiki says, pouting up at the both of them. “At least you guys have each other. It’s been just me and mom for the last three days since the semester ended. I’ve never wanted a global apocalypse more.”

“That’s right – how was your semester?” Casey asks, again, like she really wants to know. It’s actually kind of annoying; he’d prefer to have one-hundred percent of her attention and affection, right now, and Keiki is in his spot. “How were finals?”

“Fine,” Keiki answers dismissively, “Standard. More importantly – how was your quarter? Any gross cases?”

“Well, we treated one lady who didn’t realize her favorite brand of tea had been slowly poisoning her,” Casey answers, much to the delight of his sister, whose eyes light up.

“Cool,” she gushes, and, okay – this is getting out of hand.

“You need to go,” Bryce says abruptly, holding his bedroom door open for her.

“Bryce,” Casey scolds, but, like, she does.

“Casey, you need to save some of these stories for dinner, or we’re not going to have anything to talk about. Keiki – I love you, but get out.”

“God, alright. I’ll see you losers in an hour.” 

With that, she’s gone, and the spot at Casey’s lap is vacant. He drops into it wordlessly.

“Ah,” Casey says, realization dawning on her pretty features. She smiles at him. “Now I see your motivation. You know, there’s enough of me to go around.”

“No there isn’t,” he answers tiredly, “I need all of it.”

Casey hums, rubbing her thumb along his hairline. “Poor thing. You didn’t sleep on the plane at all, huh?”

“Not a wink.” There’s a beat, and then Bryce teases, “Someone was drooling on my shoulder.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Casey laughs, lightening some of the heaviness of his mood nicely. “I was tired. And you were comfortable.”

“Well – one of us should be.” The room turns somber again as she works her fingers through his hair. “This dinner is going to be miserable.”

“Maybe it won’t be so bad,” she murmurs. “Your mom seems – well… I guess she’s a lot like the stories you’ve told me.”

“You don’t even know the half of it.” Casey’s barely gotten to know the main players involved on a surface level. She has no idea how deep things go.

And – that’s probably on him. He doesn’t know why he hasn’t told her everything. It’s not like she didn’t react well to the details he did share – the bare minimum, because he had to, when Keiki showed up. All things she could find out from a google search, but that she’d never sought out on her own.

She told him once that she never looked him up because it felt like a breach of his trust. That was when he realized she was pretty much perfect, and that he was punching way above his weight – not that there hadn’t been signs of that before. 

He knows she’d be fine with more. She’s always been fine. Casey is the most supportive person he knows. She’d been by his side when he swallowed his pride and asked his mom for help with Keiki’s tuition; she’d offered her advice on whether he should forgive or forget or neither or both any time he’d ever asked for it.

Still, part of him is wary. It has nothing to do with her, but he doesn’t know how to push past it.

“What about your dad?” She asks, “do you really think it’s so bad, him coming back for Christmas?”

Bryce scoffs, curling an arm around her legs. He turns his face into her stomach. “Well, none of us have seen or spoken to him since mom testified against him. He made a round of calls when he got out – sent a few birthday cards. But I can’t imagine what he’d have to say to any of us, especially my mom. I mean – Jesus, you must think I’m completely dysfunctional.”

To her credit, Casey just shakes her head politely. “i don’t think that.” Her teeth bite at her bottom lip, and then she continues, “i just want you to be alright. You shouldn’t be so stressed out all Christmas.”

He exhales, nodding his head. She’s right, of course – like always. “I know. And… I do want to show you a good time, too.”

There were so many things he’d fantasized about showing her, if he ever worked up the courage to take the trip back home again. He wanted to bring Casey to every place that had meaning to him and get her thoughts on each of the pieces that’d made up his childhood. He wanted to hear Casey’s opinions on everything.

Dealing with his family drama hadn’t been on the list. 

“Don’t worry about me,” she murmurs, gently running her fingers through his hair again, just as she had done to Keiki. “This week is about you, and maybe mending things with your parents. Baby steps.”

“Baby steps,” he repeats. When she says it like that, it almost sounds doable. “Alright. I guess we should get ready, then.”

*

To say that dinner is awkward is an understatement.

It’s more accurate to say that the meal is a disaster, because it is, from the moment they sit down and a dedicated server starts passing around the opulent platters of takeout his mom has plated in an attempt to make it look like she actually cooked something.

There’s a pretty oppressive silence until, in between sips of wine, Alaina says, “So, tell me how things are at the hospital.”

“Why?” he asks, just as Casey opens her mouth to answer. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see her exchange a glance with Keiki before she reaches for her wine, too. 

“Because I want to hear about your work, Bryce.” Again, her polite smile is frozen on her face.

“No you don’t,” he argues, ignoring the way Casey is kicking his ankle under the table. “You never have.”

Cracks appear in the facade she’s wearing on her face. His mother sighs exasperatedly. “Well, I’m trying to,” she returns tightly, “If you would let me. Can’t we be civil for one dinner?”

“Casey,” Keiki interjects from the other end of the table, where she’s so far away it’s ridiculous – four people do not need to sit at a banquet table for a regular dinner, yet here they are. “Can you tell us the story of the lady who poisoned herself now? Please?”

“Oh,” Casey answers, “Um.” Her gaze flits around nervously, first to his mother and then to him. Despite how annoyed he is, he musters up a warm smile, for her, and then, fortified, she says, “Sure, of course. Well – it was ironic, actually, because the patient was one of the most prolific mystery writers. Mabel Danvers?”

Keiki’s mouth gapes wide. “No. Way. Mabel Danvers was at Edenbrook?” Her eyebrows knit together as she glares at Bryce from across the table. “Why didn’t you tell me?! You know I love her International Murder series.”

“It was the diagnostic team’s case,” he shrugs, “I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Except for dragging me out of the hospital when I fell asleep in my office,” Casey corrects, shooting a fond smile his way before continuing, “Anyway… she was obviously getting really sick, but didn’t know why. She’d been writing at her vacation house in Nantucket, so we assumed it was a new stimulus at the house that was causing the issue.”

“Don’t tell me you went to Mabel Danvers’ house,” Keiki groans, dinner forgotten in front of her. “Casey. That is so cool.”

Casey shrugs humbly. “The important thing is that we were able to solve the mystery. It was a local tea she had been drinking that was interfering with the absorption of the medication she was taking for her high blood pressure.”

“If Casey hadn’t noticed, it wouldn’t have been long before she had a heart attack.” She’ll never say so, but it’s true. And he’s incredibly proud of her, for that win and so many others. 

Still, she nudges him bashfully. “Stop it. I was just doing my job.”

“That’s quite the story,” his mom says finally, “Perhaps your work is more exciting than I realized. Although – you don’t handle anything like that, right, Bryce? Only surgeries?”

“Actually,” Casey answers, before he can even begin to think of something to say that will toe the line between a polite answer that will keep this dinner civil and the fuck off he so desperately wants to spit out, “Bryce is the only surgeon in the country to successfully complete a synthetic aortic replacement. Rather than removing and reconstructing sections of the vessels with grafts, he found a way to replace them entirely. He’s nominated for a Catherine Fox award.”

“Woah,” Keiki grins, “Even I know about that one. Dude! That’s so awesome.”

“Yes,” Alaina agrees, “Congratulations, Bryce. That certainly is – impressive news. You should have mentioned that sooner.”

“I can’t imagine why I wouldn’t have,” he mumbles, and then, just as Casey kicks his other ankle, “Well… thanks. The prize money would be a nice perk.”

“Prize money?” his mom asks, eyebrows arching delicately.

“Five-hundred thousand dollars,” Casey fills in helpfully. Her ankle is rubbing against his now, under the table, as if to apologize for the way she’d been kicking him just moments ago. 

It’s a lot of money. In his mind, it’s the sort of money that would almost be enough to change their lives – they’d be able to put one hell of a down payment together, for a house with a backyard that a dog and a couple of kids would be happy to run around in…

And then there’s the other thing. The thing he’s theoretically supposed to spend three months’ salary on. 

A check like that would make getting Casey the giant (lab grown, of course) diamond she deserves a lot easier.

“Oh,” his mother hums dismissively, “Yes, that’s something, I suppose.”

Silence falls over the table. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Casey’s warning stare, practically begging him to let it go. 

“Well, I guess it’s not as much as you could make insider trading,” he says, before he can swallow the words. Beside him, Casey sets her knife and fork down with a sigh.

The expression on his mom’s face turns stony. “Bryce. That’s enough. We have company.”

Company he’s starting to sorely regret involving in his family drama. He sets his napkin aside and pushes up from the table. “I need some air.”

But he waits for Casey to stand, too, and she does, slipping her hand into his and letting him lead her out through the living room and the sliding glass door, into the backyard. He sets off for the garage without explaining to her where they’re going.

“God, I’m sorry,” he says without looking at her as they make their way through the grass, “She’s unbelievable. I don’t know what I was expecting.”

“I’m sorry,” Casey returns, making him blink as the garage door rolls up for them and the lights come on as soon as they step inside and trip the sensor, “I shouldn’t have said anything, about your nomination. That was your news.”

“No, I – thank you, I’m glad you did. What you said was a thousand times more polite than what I was planning.” His thumb drags across her knuckles, and he grins at her when Casey sends a soft smile his way.

“I figured. But you deserved to shut her up, a little. Being nominated for a Catherine Fox award is a huge accomplishment, Bryce. No one at Edenbrook has ever even been in the running. You should be proud.”

“I am.” He is. Probably not as proud as Casey is of him, but he is. “I just… wish she wouldn’t act like that. Like what I do is some second-rate career.”

“Yeah.” Casey’s voice quiets as she steps up behind him and squeezes his shoulder comfortingly. “I know.” Then, she seems to realize they’re standing in front of something covered by a tarp, and she asks, “What’s that?”

Bryce whisks the sheet off theatrically, exposing the motorcycle beneath it. “This was my ride back in high school. We were inseparable.” 

“Let me guess,” she laughs, as she steps around him to run a hand cautiously over the back wheel, “You want to go for a drive now?”

He ducks down to fish out the spare helmet from the other side of the garage. “There’s that sexy brain of yours, back at it again.” She catches the helmet as soon as he tosses it at her, flashing a grin before pulling it on. “Don’t worry,” he promises, stepping forward to tighten the chin strap for her, “I won’t let anything happen to you.

*

It’s dark, as they zip around the back roads to get out of his mom’s compound and over towards the harbor. Casey doesn’t say anything as he accelerates to what’s probably a worrying level, just holds on tight with her arms around his middle and her cheek pressed against his shoulder, her weight comforting along his back.

The closer they get to downtown and the beach the calmer he is, and after a few minutes he can feel his mind clearing, tapping Casey twice on her thigh to call out to her, “Help me find a parking spot, yeah?”

She does, almost immediately. That unique talent of hers is one of his favorite things about her – Casey can spot an open place to park from a mile away, even on front street, which is packed with tourists strolling around and gawking at the Christmas lights. 

When he slides off the bike to help Casey to her feet, he realizes she’s doing the same, but the expression on her face looks a lot sweeter than on some family decked out in matching floral print shirts. She looks amazed.

“Wow,” she breathes, “this set-up is beautiful. I’ve never seen a palm tree with Christmas lights before.”

“I guess it is pretty cool,” he admits, softened by the look of wonder she’s sporting. “But we’re here to check out the beach.”

He holds his hand out for her shoes as they step into the sand. Casey’s grinning at him in the moonlight, her dimples on full display, and he stops for a second as the look on her face knocks the wind out of him effortlessly, just like it has so many times before. Just like it never fails to do.

“What?” She asks, making him shake his head as he threads his free hand through hers. 

“Nothing. Come on.”

The beach is deserted as they make their way down to the water, which glitters so beautifully under the stars that he forgets, for a minute, how much he actually hates it here and how many bad memories he has of his hometown. 

Against the breeze surrounding them, Casey presses closer and rests her head on his shoulder. “This is gorgeous.”

“Yeah,” he confirms quietly. It is. It’s not Hawaii’s fault he has such a complicated relationship with his parents, even if all he can remember, being back here, is all the other times he stormed out of the house just like they did tonight. “I used to come here a lot, when things were bad at home.”

She hums encouragingly, arms looping around his stomach. “I can see why. It’s so peaceful.”

“Actually – I liked how busy it was, at front street. It was always so quiet at home, growing up. Most of the time I felt completely invisible, to my parents, unless someone was around for them to show me off to. Coming out here and being around so many people was, like – weirdly comforting? In a way.”

He’s surprised at how easily the words slip out of his mouth, but he knows he shouldn’t be. Casey is so patient – so welcoming and so caring he never has trouble telling her anything, or being the one to tell her what she needs to hear. 

He knows he’s lucky, to have found that, somehow. Despite the odds, despite the vastness of the city and the medical industry and the fact that the deck has always seemed stacked against them, he and Casey were lucky enough to find each other and cultivate a relationship that’s so rare and precious he can’t help but to feel fiercely protective over it. 

They just get each other, and for her, he finds himself doing things he’s never been able to force out for any other partners before. He’s able to be there for her, and boost her confidence and give her difficult advice and love and be loved by her in return. Because of Casey, he’s able to accept it when she does the same for him.

If it weren’t for her, he knows he wouldn’t be here, right now. He’d have never even considered it.

“I know what you mean,” Casey says, squeezing his side. “I mean – I don’t know firsthand, but I understand what you’re saying. I can definitely see how you and Keiki would feel lonely, back there. Your mom’s house is so…”

“Sterile?” He suggests. It’s nothing like his favorite place to be, back in Boston: Casey’s old apartment, from before she’d moved in with him, which, even in her absence, is always loud and bustling, cozy and stuffed with people and laughter and food. 

“Yeah. It makes me really sad, thinking about you guys growing up there. I mean I know you were rich, but…” he glances down at her and finds her frowning, her brow furrowed. “I guess I just wish I met you sooner, that’s all.”

It is so like Casey to feel bad for him, for that reason, that it actually makes him smile. Of course she would say something so genuinely sweet – of course she would only want to have had more time together. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks, pulling him from his thoughts.

Bryce shakes his head as he realizes he’d been staring. “You’re just… one-of-a-kind, Casey. I feel so fucking lucky just to know you.”

Her teeth bite at her bottom lip, stifling what’s obviously meant to be a very grand and overjoyed smile. She leans against him a little more heavily. “I’m really glad I’m here with you,” she says, drawing a laugh from deep in his chest.

“Believe me,” he murmurs, struck dumb, as always, by how effortlessly good she is and how undeserving he still feels of all of it – by how amazing it is that they found each other and got it right, when he spent so long wrecking everything positive that came his way, “So am I.”

*

They have two blissfully peaceful days before Christmas Eve.

He and Keiki take Casey surfing for the first time and for a drive down the coast; he teases her for her sunburn and rubs lotion on her bare shoulders. They spend a lot of time in the pool or out to lunch and dinner and they hardly see his mom or any of the staff at all for forty-eight peaceful and cautiously enjoyable hours.

Then they come downstairs for breakfast on the morning of the twenty-fourth to find his father sitting at the dining room table, drinking coffee and reading the paper.

“Good morning, Bryce,” he says evenly, nodding at the both of them. “Keiki. You’ve gotten taller.”

“Hi, dad,” Keiki answers slowly, shooting a glance at Bryce before sliding into one of the open seats at the table. “Where’s mom?”

“Right here, sweetheart,” chimes his mother from the doorway. She’s carrying a platter of bagels in her hands. “Good morning Bryce, Casey. Did you two sleep alright?”

“Um, we slept great,” Casey says, in the same careful tone his sister had used. Bryce lets her pull him over to the other side of the table silently. 

She gets about halfway through smearing cream cheese onto her bagel before he asks, “What are you doing here?”

His dad looks at him like he’s the one who’s being weird. “It’s Christmas Eve, Bryce. We’re all here to celebrate the holiday together, as a family.”

Before he can open his mouth, Casey leans over the table with her hand outstretched. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Lahela. I’m Casey.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Casey. We’re thrilled to have you here with all of us.”

It feels a lot like he’s having an out-of-body experience. The last time he saw his dad they were just outside of this very room, in the hallway. They’d been screaming at each other again, of course, just like they always seemed to. Keiki had watched the fight unfold from the second floor, hanging over the banister. His mom had been crying.

I guess I’m not the family disappointment anymore, am I? He’d screamed that at the very top of his lungs. Then, before the door slammed shut behind him when he’d stomped out onto the porch, Good luck in prison. 

The thought of stomaching a bagel now seems impossible. 

“How long are you staying?” Bryce asks, despite everyone else’s best attempts to pretend as though what’s happening is completely normal.

His dad finally folds up the newspaper in front of him and sets it aside. “Through the new year, if it’s alright with your mother. We’ve both been hoping to spend some time with you, before you go back to Boston. You’ve been away for a long time.”

The words are said as though he’s done something wrong, instantly setting him on edge. Casey’s hand drops to his leg beneath the table in comfort, but she’s not fast enough. “That was by design.”

“Bryce,” his mother warns, “Please, can we just have one nice day together?”

“The three of us have had plenty of nice days together,” he answers, his annoyance mounting, “Here, in Boston – anywhere the two of you aren’t. Maybe you haven’t noticed, but you two are the problem.” 

Beside him, Casey sets her bagel down. There’s only one neat bite taken out of it, and out of the corner of his eye, he can see her wiping her mouth with a napkin.

“That’s enough, Bryce.” That’s his dad, and the stern tone he thinks is actually supposed to mean something to him. “I don’t know why you insist on acting so childish in front of your guest, but –”

“Casey is not my guest, she’s my girlfriend. And she’s the only reason I’d ever even considered coming here, so the two of you should act a little more grateful she’s with me.” 

“Bryce – Casey,” his mom sighs, moving to stand behind his dad and resting a bejeweled hand on his shoulder. God, she’s even back to wearing her wedding ring. “Of course we’re thrilled to have you both here, darling. We know there’s so much lost time to make up for. Can’t you be open to giving us a chance?”

He grits his teeth, ignoring the glances he can feel Casey and Keiki sharing behind his back. “You two are the ones who lost the time in the first place,” he reminds them, since it seems like they’ve conveniently forgotten, “And you weren’t thinking about me or Keiki or anyone but yourselves then or even now. So forgive me if this happy family act you’re intent on parading out in front of us feels a little disingenuous.” 

“It is a little weird,” says Keiki, from across the table. She draws every eye immediately, but doesn’t wilt under their parent’s gaze like she might have once before. “Dad being back, with no explanation. You can’t blame us for wondering what’s going on.”

“Now you’ve dragged Keiki into this,” sighs his mother dramatically. Her head shakes slowly with disappointment. “Really, Bryce. I don’t know why you’ve even come here if you just want to argue with us at every opportunity.”

“Oh my god,” Bryce groans, as loudly as he can. Suddenly he remembers why he and his father had spent so many nights screaming at each other. He turns towards Casey, ignoring everyone else in the room. “I am so sorry. I can’t believe they keep doing this. Maybe there’s a way for us to move our flights up.”

Casey’s eyebrows arch slowly up to her hairline. She sneaks an uncomfortable glance at his parents, then purses her lips as Keiki audibly giggles from beside her.

“Bryce,” snaps his father, “Could I have a word with you in the kitchen?”

He only distantly hears Casey complimenting, “These are really excellent bagels, Mrs. Lahela,” before the door slides shut behind him and he’s alone in the kitchen with his dad. Bryce stares unflinchingly back at his father, arms folded across his chest. “What’s up?”

“What’s up is that you’re upsetting your mother,” he answers, with no small amount of irritation, “And embarrassing yourself in front of your girlfriend. Regardless of what you may think, we invited you both here with every intention of having an enjoyable holiday together, and from what I’ve seen and heard, you have made it impossible for anyone to do that. I don’t care what it takes, but if you can’t come to dinner tonight with a more pleasant attitude, then don’t come at all.”

With that, his dad steps back into the dining room before Bryce can bite back at him, leaving him simmering alone in the kitchen. 

The anger he feels is unlike him; he can’t recall the last time he was so mad. In all his time at Stanford and Yale and Edenbrook he never had the urge to break something that he has now – though all his rage deflates immediately as soon as Casey slips through the door with the sympathetic smile she wears so well. “Hey,” she murmurs, reaching out for him gently, “You okay?”

“I wish you didn’t have to keep asking me that,” he sighs, tipping his head forward until his forehead is resting in her hair. “And I’m sorry I keep arguing with them like you’re not sitting right there.”

“You don’t have to apologize for anything that happens this week,” she returns, as annoyingly perfect as ever. “I know how frustrating this all must be for you.”

“It’s just – I don’t know. It feels like they want me to pretend that nothing bad ever happened, but… we’ve never even talked about any of it. Even talking about Keiki with mom, like – it was all over email and through the estate. She’s never tried to reach out in a genuine way before asking us to come here, and it’s like – why now, if not to apologize? How can you make things right without acknowledging what happened?”

“I know. It’s not fair to you guys.” When he shuts his eyes, he can just barely hear the sounds of breakfast wrapping up in the dining room – plates scraping and chairs shuffling and the distinct banging of Keiki bounding back up the stairs. He grabs Casey’s hand to pull her outside so they don’t risk another run-in with one of the people he’s so desperate to avoid.

“I don’t want to be angry like this.” He rubs tiredly at his eyes, feeling uncertain. “I don’t want to be mad at them anymore, but – it’s like, even though it was so long ago… it fucked up our whole lives, you know? And they have… no consideration of how that affected us. They expect Keiki and I to just be like, ‘Great, dad’s home! Here’s everything you missed over the last ten years.’” 

Admittedly, he feels out of his depth, being so helpless. In Boston, his life is full of things he can control – his apartment and his surgeries and a professional and personal environment where the group of people he surrounds himself with respect and value him. Here… every minute feels like it’s spiraling away from him before he can catch up to it. “What if we just can’t fix it? What if we waited too long?”

Casey shakes her head from beside him. “I don’t think that any amount of time could be too long. Second year, when I almost died –”

His shoulders jerk with abrupt surprise. Being reminded of that always feels like a punch to the stomach, and not in a good way. Casey continues seamlessly, as though he hasn’t reacted at all.

“– We realized just how short life truly is. And it changed both of us. You did the right thing for Keiki, and you, and – do you remember all the work we put into the hospital and our relationship and ourselves? I mean, you say it was me that brought you here, but the you I knew just a year and a half ago would’ve never, ever – not even with nudity – been convinced into this. But you made the decision to stop being angry, and to be open to the possibility of fixing things. And even if they can’t get there for you, in the end… you shouldn’t let it undo all the work you put in towards forgiving them. Towards moving on. Because I know you don’t want to hold onto this forever.”

The most annoying thing about Casey is the way she’s always right. He sighs heavily again. There’s a long pause before he asks, “Can’t you just be mad at me for bringing you here and then freaking out every day like a normal girlfriend would?”

“Nope.” Casey grins at him until her dimples pop out. “You can cause as many scenes in front of me as you want, Bryce Lahela. You’re not getting rid of me.” 

“God,” he groans, like it’s a burden instead of the best thing that’s ever happened to him. “Fine, whatever. I guess you’re not so bad.”

She straightens in front of him, pulling him closer by the front of his shirt. “Look. I’m not saying that things are going to be perfect with your parents immediately. You have every right to hate them for the rest of your life for what they did – what they still do. But… it is Christmas. I think you should try talking to them before we decide to write them out of our lives and our kids’ lives forever.”

“Our kids?” he remarks, grin spreading across his face. He’s deflecting and they both know it, but Casey’s gracious enough to let him live in the moment for just a second. “How many are we going to have?”

“None if you don’t stop picking on me,” Casey laughs, swatting his shoulder. When he doesn’t stop smiling at her, she relents, softening a little before allowing, “And three if you do. So? Will you try talking to them?”

“Depends.” He pouts at her, arms tightening around the small of her back. “What’s in it for me?”

“A healthy new outlook on life,” she answers immediately, corny, earnest grin stretched across her face. “And the peace of mind that comes with no longer having to hold a grudge.”

“It’s weird, like – I saw your mouth moving? But I didn’t hear the words ‘lap dance,’ so –” He laughs as she shoves his shoulder again, gratified by the way her giggles grow so loud they overshadow his teasing. “Okay, okay. I’m going. But just think about it, yeah?”

*

The nice thing about forcing his parents to have this conversation with him is that they want to be there about as much as he does, which is to say – not at all. Their discomfort is so plainly visible on their faces that it’s actually a little bit soothing – whatever that says about him. 

His dad is the one to break the suffocating silence. “Your mother told me about your award nomination. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.” He physically bites his tongue to hold back the addition he so desperately wants to tack on: Did she tell you about the part where she belittled it, too? “Are you moving back in here?”

His mom sighs from the opposite couch. They’re so far apart in the giant living room it’s almost comical, each of them seated on their own chair. “It’s complicated, Bryce. Your father and I just wanted everyone to be back together for the holidays. What comes after, well… we’re not sure.”

“Don’t you think you were getting a little bit ahead of yourselves, assuming we’d all get together for a perfect Christmas?” It seems impossible to think that his mom had been sincere in the email she’d written begging for a chance to make a fresh start. Surely his parents hadn’t just believed they’d have a nice, normal holiday break together. Not after everything.

“I wasn’t sure how else to start,” his mom admits, looking uncharacteristically vulnerable. For the first time since he’s been home, she appears unsure, shifting on the couch. “I know I’ve had… opportunities, over the years. Opportunities I’ve handled incorrectly. But… we’ve missed you, Bryce. And we want to fix things, but we know –” There’s a pause as she glances at his father, then shakes her head, turning back towards him, “– I know that I haven’t done the best job at that. And that a sincere attempt should start with… an apology. Which I know I should have given you a long time ago. I am sorry, Bryce. I hope you know that.”

He exhales, slowly. It doesn’t feel as satisfying as he’d expected it to, and he’s thrown off-balance, unsure what he’s supposed to be angry about now or even what else he should feel. “I’m not the only one who needs to hear that,” he says, “Keiki –”

“I know. And I will talk to her, too.” Another glance at his dad. “We both will.”

There’s a pause before his dad speaks, begrudgingly admitting, “Your mother’s right.” The words are a larger shock than anything Bryce might’ve expected him to say, more surprising than any of the nasty arguments they used to get into when he was still living at home. “There’s a lot we have to talk about with both of you, but… an apology is a start, and I’m sorry, too.”

It’s a long time before he finally stumbles upstairs to find Casey. He spends pretty much the entire day talking to his parents, and it’s dark and quiet in the house when Keiki finally comes to relieve him so he can go spend some time with his girlfriend. 

Casey’s sprawled across his bed waiting for him when he closes the door behind himself. She’s got her laptop open, but she sets it aside as soon as she hears him sigh, looking up with a smile. “You must be exhausted.”

“You have no idea,” he groans, shuffling slowly towards the bed. “I am emotionally drained. We talked for, like, six hours.”

“I know,” Casey says, huffing out an oof and then a laugh when he drops down on top of her, making the mattress bounce, “I got a lot of work done, actually. I think Mrs. Milton might have botulism.”

Bryce’s mouth twists, momentarily distracted from his own problems. “Botulism? How’d you land on that?”

“It’s the only thing consistent with her symptoms that her brain scans haven’t ruled out. I was sitting up here staring at them and it was like – lightbulb, duh.”

He shakes his head, amused and proud in equal measures. Casey’s endless lightbulb moments will probably never cease to amaze him. “Bet Ramsey loved having to order a stool sample for you on Christmas Eve.”

She grins widely at him, looking awfully pleased with herself. “He told me to tell you ‘Merry Christmas.’”

“If he only knew what a circus this has been,” he muses, slumping down on top of her even as she wiggles pointedly beneath him. “It makes botulism seem like an attractive choice.”

Casey reaches up and smacks his shoulder. “Don’t say that. You guys have made a lot of progress, even just today. Even just coming was an important step forward. And I’m really proud of you.”

He sighs again, more heavily this time. “Stop being so understanding. I want to be mad.”

“No you don’t,” she argues, “You want what’s familiar. Which, like – of course I get that. No one ever said it was going to be easy to move on, to start to forgive them… but you’re not going to stop me from being proud of what you’ve done so far. Of course I’m proud.”

“We literally don’t deserve you,” he mutters into the side of her neck, nudging his nose into her throat. Laughter vibrates her skin under his lips. 

“Who is ‘we?’”

“Me and my bad moods,” Bryce huffs. “But – thank you. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Casey hums, gently brushing her fingers through his hair. “And I wanna hear all about it, when you’re up to rehashing what I’m sure was a very long and frustrating conversation.”

“We went in circles for hours. Going back and forth over so much bullshit. My mom’s fascination with appearances and my dad’s arrogance alone took us, like, the entire length of Avatar.”

“What’s Christmas without a little arguing?” she teases, sounding so good that he can’t help but to lift his face to look at her, his breath catching as soon as he sees how her eyes are sparkling. Not for the first time, he finds himself almost dizzy with relief at the fact that Casey is by his side for what’s arguably one of the most challenging things he’s ever been through – that she’s with him at all, to the point where he’s seriously considering real estate listings and diamonds and addresses in neighborhoods with quiet streets and schools close by.

“I honestly don’t know who I’d be without you,” he says, completely ignoring her joke and the thread of conversation they’d actually been on. Casey blinks at him, but catches up quickly, lips quirking back into her familiar grin. 

“Well… luckily, we’ll never need to worry about that. Now come on – I’m not letting any deep-seated family drama stop me from giving you your gift at midnight. Valentine family tradition.”

“That’s a nice thought,” he says, as he finally moves to push up off of her, rolling his eyes at the over-exaggerated breath Casey draws in, as though he’d been crushing her the entire time they’d been laying there, “But we have to make it through dinner, first.”

Although, he realizes, as he absently watches Casey get ready while flipping through his shirts to find something to wear himself, for the first time since they’d left Boston, he finds that he’s actually almost… maybe… sort of… 

God help him, he’s looking forward to it.

*

It’s not like there’s no bumps in the road. There are. He and his parents certainly argue again (and again, and again), but it’s less destructive, this time around – more so a byproduct of so many personalities being trapped together under one roof again than anything that’s actually malicious.

Still, despite the inevitable spats that mark the days, Christmas is actually pretty nice.

It’s not like going home with Casey had been, or even like last year, when all their friends had celebrated in Casey’s old apartment because the hospital was slammed with patients from the pandemic and no one could make it home, but it’s still enjoyable in its own way.

It’s fun to spend some quality time with Keiki, again, and to show Casey everything he promised her he would – all the spots he frequented growing up and the places that made him the person he is, introducing her to the habits he’d left behind when he’d gone to college.

They spend new year’s eve at home, in sweats, with some television presenter droning on from times square in the background, only half paid-attention to while they drink too much champagne.

His parents are in and out, but it’s alright, having them around. Just the sight of them doesn’t fill him with some unmanageable rage, anymore, and he knows that’s a step in the right direction that he shouldn’t ignore. 

He gets to kiss Casey at midnight while Keiki heckles them both, and wakes up with her on new year’s day, hours before they’re due back at the airport. 

She’s already awake, staring at the ceiling when he stirs and turns towards her, tugging her in close to drop a kiss onto the top of her head. “Hey. Morning.”

“Hey,” she murmurs back, very obviously lost in thought. “You sleep okay?”

“Great,” he sighs, ducking his head to nose at the soft wisps of hair behind her ear. “What’s on your mind?”

Casey huffs, like she’s somehow surprised he’s managed to read her so easily. She’s funny like that – she still furrows her brow every time he remembers her coffee order or her favorite candy or her schedule. Then she smiles so widely he can’t help but to grin right back at her when her eyes go all bright and shiny with joy.

“Just thinking about work tomorrow,” Casey explains, “And my patients. And – you.”

His eyebrows arch curiously. He lifts his head to look at her. “Me?”

“Yeah.” Her fingers card through his hair, and then she meets his eyes and offers him that smile he’d been expecting, her eyes glittering. “I had the best time here, with you.”

Bryce snorts in disbelief, shaking his head. “You don’t have to say that. I know this was, like, the weirdest Christmas of all time.”

“It was just different,” she insists, “And… I really did have fun. I mean – us being together is always the most important part, but I also… I just loved knowing you like this, if that makes sense. I feel so much closer to you.”

It makes perfect sense, because he feels the exact same way. For so long he’d been cautious about burdening Casey with the way he felt. Even though she’d never done anything other than be wholly supportive, it still made him anxious, to think of exposing himself to someone else so completely. 

Of course he should have known he never needed to worry, where she was concerned.

“I’m really glad,” he answers finally, gently rubbing his hand up and down her bare arm. “And I know I already told you a thousand times, but I could have never done any of this without you. Thank you for coming with me. For pushing me to come at all. I love you.”

“I love you more,” she returns immediately, pecking a quick kiss onto the tip of his nose. It crinkles under her lips as he smiles fondly at her, yanking her forward so she tumbles on top of him abruptly. 

Looking into Casey’s eyes, he can’t help but to remember the uncertainty he felt at the start of the trip – wondering what this experience might do to their relationship, wondering who the arguments waiting for him at home in Hawaii might turn him into and if Casey would still like that person once she got to meet him.

Now he’d made it through that, and it’d only left him with more things to worry about on the other end of their return flight back to Boston: what was he supposed to do now that he’d let go of his anger, and how was he supposed to move forward with the tentative peace in play and the resolution of the issues he’d held onto for so long? 

What would happen if he couldn’t?

What kind of person was he going to be now, that something that had shaped him for the last ten years was changing? Was Casey still going to like that person? Would she want what he wanted, now that he was different – the diamond and the house with the backyard, his plans for the grant money he hadn’t even won yet?

Her smile turns knowing as she considers him, head cocked to the side. “I can hear your brain overheating.”

Bryce grins at her. “So you think I’m hot, eh?”

She laughs, digging her fingers into his side. He jerks across the mattress with a jolt, pulling her along with him until they balance precariously on the edge of the bed and she shrieks into his ear. 

The blankets tangle around their legs and slowly start to slide onto the floor, half-pulling them along. Amidst all the chaos, Casey tenderly strokes his cheek with her fingers and gently says, “Don’t worry so much, yeah? Everything is perfect.”

The rational part of him knows that’s far from true. There’s a lot that can still go wrong, so much that’s uncertain about their futures. 

But the way she’s looking at him makes it hard to argue. The disgusting, gooey sentimental side of him that knows he’d do absolutely anything in the entire world in the interest of keeping Casey by his side overpowers his rationality easily, until he offers her a lovesick smile in return, adoration spread out across his features.

Hopefully he can find some way to convince her to stick around for whatever curveballs the next fifty years might have in store for them.

“You’re right,” Bryce says simply, just as her weight finally slides them both out of his bed and onto the floor, his head whacking against her open suitcase. “And also, a menace.”

“The total package, baby,” she laughs, shaking her messy hair in his face. There’s some delicate untangling before she can finally roll to her feet, kicking the offending suitcase out of the way so she can start to gather up her things. 

It’s slow going, getting them out of there. Keiki isn’t leaving for another week, so her goodbye is the longest, with lots of whining and hugging and begging Casey for Mabel Danvers’ contact information.

His parents are… something else. His mom hugs them both, awkwardly but sincerely, and even looks like she might be on the verge of tears at one point while he helps Casey into her jacket and grabs both of their bags. 

“You’ll call so I know you got back safe, right?” she asks, for what just might be the very first time in his entire life. He blinks at her, but Casey’s already nodding for him.

“Of course, I’ll make sure he doesn’t forget. And we’ll let you know as soon as we hear back from the Catherine Fox foundation.”

“Oh, please do,” his mom gushes, “I know I won’t sleep a wink until then.”

His dad’s goodbye makes him feel less like he’s living in the twilight zone; the impersonal handshake he and Casey both get is more or less what he’d been expecting.

“Make sure you email us those photos from Christmas,” he says gruffly, averting his eyes. 

“For sure,” Bryce promises, and then they’re free, stepping out onto the lawn and heading for the car with one last wave over their shoulders.

“That was nice,” Casey says, once they’re alone in the car and have some real privacy for the first time since they arrived. “It went better than I thought it would.”

“Me, too.” He’d expected the entire trip to be an absolute disaster from start to finish. Instead, they’d managed to land on something that almost resembled common ground, which still feels strange, though not in an unwelcome way.

In the backseat of the town car, Casey holds his hand, her eyes out the window and her thumb brushing across his knuckles.

Bryce settles back into his seat, watching the landscape speed by. This time tomorrow they’ll be back to the freezing temperatures of a northeastern January, the intense speed of their work day and the stress and pride that came from dealing with some of the nation’s most difficult medical emergencies.

But they’d be together, still, somehow, despite everything – the odds and the improbabilities and all the remaining factors that tried to stand in their way.

For the first time since they moved in together, he felt like he was doing something to move forward instead of just standing still, waiting for the days to pass.

And he knew he had her to thank for that.

Casey catches him staring when they’re almost at the airport, bouncing a little on her side of the backseat. “I hope the line for security is short,” she says, “I have to pee so bad.”

He checks his watch with a laugh, squeezing her hand affectionately. “You can go before we get in line,” he reminds her, “We’ve got plenty of time.”

She hums, leaning her head against his chest. It’s sunny outside and a little too warm in the backseat, but he’d make himself the most uncomfortable person in the world if it meant that Casey would stay nearby. 

Bryce watches her watch Hawaii, out the window, focusing on the even rise and fall of her breaths.

Everything they’ve been through – residency and its challenges, navigating the strange path of their relationship, this new and bizarre Christmas – hasn’t been easy, certainly, but for now…

He’s at peace.