Archive of Our Own ^beta

Driving in New York is a fucking nightmare. Max has half a mind to climb out of the car and run the rest of the way. But that’s not practical. It’s not safe, either. He cannot afford to do anything reckless right now. David is probably already worried. No, scratch that—David is definitely worried. Max putting himself in danger won’t help with that.

So, he stays in the car, tapping his foot nervously as his eyes shift between the driver, the traffic, and his watch.

It’s not an easy life.

There are people with bigger problems, sure, but one thing Max has learned in therapy is to never compare his pain to someone else’s. Just as he wouldn’t compare his achievements or happiness.

He’s lived a privileged life, and he knows it, but that doesn’t mean it’s been without its challenges.

Things are better now. He feels more in control, and more confident in facing whatever the world throws at him. It’s a good life. However, that doesn’t mean it’s an easy life.

But this is the life he chose. He wanted this. He wanted the glory. He wanted the fame. He wanted the world to know he was capable.

Maybe it’s a Lightwood-Bane thing. Everyone in his family, except for his sister—who will always be the exception to every rule—picked a job that would put them in the spotlight: the governor, the supermodel, the senator, the King of Edom.

Max never really wanted to be a king. He did want to marry a prince or princess, but he didn’t want to be a king. What he did want was to be useful. He couldn’t think of a better place to put himself to good use than in Edom.

Fifteen years of dedication and hard work, Edom is bigger and better than ever before. It will always be his biggest achievement—after bagging David, of course.

But this kind of power and success hardly ever comes without a price. And most often, it isn’t just you who pays the price; it’s the people around you too.

He had been in a strategy meeting when the fourth message came through.

Edom’s anniversary is coming up, and they’ve all been busy planning the biggest and grandest party that has ever been thrown in the fashion industry. Max even had to bring out Shinyun to help—who had retired quietly a few years ago, saying that she trusted Max to do this on his own.

It’s a lot. That trust.

Max has to make sure it wasn’t misplaced.

He was so busy sorting out the guest list with his team that he didn’t see the two missed calls and three messages from David. When the fourth one reaches him, Max excuses himself immediately, runs downstairs, and climbs into his car without another word.

It doesn’t matter how successful you are. It doesn’t matter how important your job is. Family first. That’s the Lightwood-Bane mantra.

Finally, after what feels like forever, the car pulls up to their residence in Tribeca. Max leaps out and rushes inside.

“AJ!” Max calls, jogging toward his son and kneeling in the wet grass, ruining his trousers.

“Daddy!” Arthur squeals, running to him, clinging tight. “Daddy’s home!”

“Yeah, buddy, I’m home.” Max kisses the top of his blond curls. “You okay? You’re not hurt?”

“I made a friend!” Arthur beams, pointing at the squirrel. “We call him…Charlie?”

“Nice to meet you, Charlie.” Max cups Arthur’s face gently. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Arthur bites his lip, his small teeth poking through. “Lance fell.”

“I know,” Max whispers, brushing his thumb across his son's cheek. “He’s gonna be okay.”

Arthur nods in agreement. “Papa put a Barbie band-aid on his leg.”

“Well, Lance’s not gonna like that,” Max mutters, drawing a giggle from Arthur. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” Arthur grins, letting go. “Play with me?”

Max chuckles softly. “I’m gonna check on Lance first, okay? Wanna come with me?”

“In a bit!” Arthur yells, already chasing Charlie again.

Max turns to the security nearby, nodding at them to keep a close eye on Arthur. One of the men responds with a curt nod. They hadn’t needed security before, but this was part of the price.

He finds Lance in his bedroom, curled up on the bed, with David sitting beside him, gently running his fingers through Lance’s hair.

“Hey,” Max whispers softly.

Both of them look up at the same time, and Max’s heart clenches.

Lance is eight now, so close to the age David had been when they first met. Max often tells his husband that Lance looks like him, but David always disagrees, saying Lance is more beautiful, or tanner, or taller.

But Max spent a lot of his time looking at David. He knows that face best, so he must be right.

“Hey, buddy,” Max slides to the other corner of the bed. “It’s me.”

“You’re home early,” Lance says suspiciously.

“I am,” Max smiles, pressing a kiss to the boy’s head.

“Maybe I should fall down more often,” Lance hums.

Max doesn’t find that joke funny. Honestly, Lance’s dry humor is rarely amusing. But David loves it. Max wonders if that’s why the other man doesn’t reproach their son right now.

“Are you okay?” Max asks worriedly. “Does your leg hurt a lot?”

“It doesn’t hurt at all,” Lance rolls his eyes. “Papa is overreacting, like usual.”

Max chuckles at that. David doesn’t.

“I’m okay, Dad,” Lance reassures him. “It was just a scratch. Papa put a Band-Aid on it.”

“I can see that.”

“It’s not a Barbie Band-Aid, right?”

“Uh…”

“Papa!” Lance groans loudly.

“We ran out of the Batman ones,” David replies, pressing a kiss to Lance’s head. “The Barbie one works just fine.”

“It’s pink,” Lance grumbles. “I want a Batman one next time.”

“There won’t be a next time,” David says sternly, pressing another kiss to the boy’s head. “Why don’t you get some rest, mon coeur, and I’ll get dinner ready?”

“Can I have potato nuggets?” Lance asks carefully.

“Of course,” David says, delivering yet another kiss. “Anything you want.”

As much as Max hates to admit it, it took him a while to make peace with the fact that David now loves their children more than him.

He knows it’s the truth, and he won’t let anyone tell him otherwise. He knows David and how he loves. He has never seen David love anything harder than their boys.

When David leaves, Max stays in the room with Lance a little longer, helping him set up a game on his iPad before he leaves the boy alone. He finds David in the kitchen, who is cutting up strawberries for Arthur, who grabs the bowl and bolts again, earning tickles from Max along the way.

“Did you meet Charlie the Squirrel yet?” Max chuckles, leaning against the kitchen counter as David rummages through the refrigerator. “Pretty sure he’s gonna take a shit on our couch soon.”

David doesn’t respond. He simply grabs a bowl of potatoes and starts peeling them.

“Do you want help?” Max asks after a moment.

David remains silent, walking past Max to get a bottle of cold water from the refrigerator, and dropping a peeled potato into it.

Max sighs tiredly. “If you’re not in the mood to talk to me, just say that.”

“I’m not in the mood to talk to you,” David informs him.

“Don’t say that!” Max groans as he moves closer to David, pulling at his arm. “I got your messages, babe. I know you were worried—”

“I wasn’t worried,” David corrects. “I was terrified.”

“Lance is fine,” Max notes. “He told us he is fine.”

“Sure, I’ll take the word of an eight-year-old over my own judgment,” David rolls his eyes.

Max sighs again. “Maybe…Maybe the eight-year-old is right, and you’re overreacting a little—”

“I’m overreacting?” David laughs in disbelief.

“He fell. Kids fall.”

“He didn’t fall. He was pushed!” David hisses angrily. “There were people following us, Max! We had to rush out of there, and someone pushed him!”

Max pinches the bridge of his nose. “Where was security?”

“That’s not the point!” David says in frustration.

“What is the point then?” Max asks helplessly. “We know the paparazzi doesn’t care about boundaries.”

“That doesn’t make it okay,” David shakes his head.

“David, Lance is fine—”

“You weren’t there!” David yells at him, then turns away. “It might just be a scratch on his leg, but he was terrified—of the flashes and the yelling. They were just yelling our names and whistling at us. Poor Arthur was spooked as well.”

“Okay. Okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that happened,” Max raises his hands carefully. “But we’ll be more careful next time.”

“I told you, there won’t be a next time,” David says firmly.

“What is that even supposed to mean?” Max asks in frustration.

“It means I’m going back to Paris,” David exhales tiredly.

They came to New York three weeks ago. Max wanted the anniversary celebrations to happen in New York. It works strategically—they’re building their American market, and many of their major investors are based in the US.

Also, New York is home. This is one of Max’s proudest achievements. He wants to celebrate it here.

They came three weeks ago, and the whole first week was spent with their families—endless dinners, breakfasts, and lunches. So much hugging, laughter, and love.

Then Max had to get to work.

He has less than a month to pull everything together. The team here is amazing, and Max trusts them implicitly. But it’s still a big deal, and he has to micromanage a little to ensure everything goes smoothly next month.

This is the big anniversary they’re doing since he took over, so it has to go perfectly.

“What do you mean you’re going back to Paris?” Max asks incredulously. “The party…the party is in a month.”

“New York is not safe for our children,” David shakes his head. “The paparazzi here is out of control. I can’t even go to church with them without getting mobbed. I want to go back to Paris. It’s safer there.”

“Why are you talking like they’re trying to kill our kids?” Max can’t help but chuckle in disbelief. “They’re just people, David. Sure, they’re assholes and invasive, but they’re not going to hurt the kids.”

“You don’t get it,” David groans. “Of course you don’t.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Max narrows his eyes.

“It means you are desensitized to this lunacy!” David tells him. “You think this is normal because this is how you grew up, Max. This is not normal!”

“I know it’s not normal,” Max says calmly. “All I’m saying is that we can’t control it.”

“Yes, we can,” David disagrees firmly. “Which is why I want to take the children back to France.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do here on my own?” Max demands.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” David rolls his eyes. “You seemed to be busy with work anyway.”

“I am busting my ass to host the biggest party anyone has ever thrown in the industry. Why are you making me feel bad for it?”

“I am not making you feel bad about it,” David says in annoyance. “I am saying you have things to keep you occupied.”

“It’s not the same, David. I need you with me,” Max shakes his head, his heart thudding faster now. “And what about you? You’re fine with being on your own in France? Won’t you…won’t you miss me?”

“I will miss you terribly,” David says, his voice turning gentle now, before he looks away. “But if it will keep the children safe, then yes, I am willing to make that sacrifice.”

Wow. Okay.

Max clenches his jaw. “I see.”

“You understand my predicament, don’t you?” David asks, moving closer and cupping Max’s face with a hand.

“Yeah, whatever, it’s fine,” Max shrugs him away.

“Max—”

“I told you it’s fine!” Max snaps. “Go. Fuck off to France.”

David pulls away at that, turning around and walking away.

Max clutches his head, feeling a migraine forming, as he swallows down a loud groan. David is obviously not going to leave. He’s just saying things to make Max take this seriously.

Max does take it seriously, though. He’s offended that David thinks he’s bothered by these paparazzi fucks. He is. He just doesn’t know what to do about them. The helplessness he feels around them has always been there. It doesn’t mean he’s used to it; it just means he doesn’t know how to make it go away.

He doesn’t know what to do right now. He wishes he could yell at all the assholes out there to leave his family alone. But that’s what he wished a long time ago too, and that didn’t happen. It doesn’t work that way. They just need to make their way through it—together. They can’t run away. They can’t separate. They just can’t.

“Hey, I’m still at the office. What’s up?”

Max needed to talk to someone. He can’t go to his parents; he knows they will always be there for him. But there’s something so difficult about going back to your parents as an adult and asking for their help. He wishes he were a little kid again, so he wouldn’t feel so bad about it.

“I had a fight with David,” Max sighs tiredly, walking to the balcony and closing the door behind him.

“How bad?” Rafael asks.

“It’s not that bad,” Max adds quietly. “I think.”

“Okay,” Rafael says. “Tell me what happened.”

Max tells him everything but only shares what happened, not how he feels about it. He saves that shit for his therapist. He doesn’t need to vomit his feelings all the time to everyone.

“Okay, this sounds like I should come over,” Rafael says with concern.

“No. No. It’s fine. I’m fine,” Max reassures him. “It's already late. You should go home soon. I don’t want Anjali trying to beat me up.”

Rafael chuckles at that before sighing softly. “Look, I don’t wanna take sides.”

“Okay, so you think David is right,” Max rolls his eyes. He sees Arthur running around in the garden and waves at the boy, who waves back before running into the house.

“All I’m saying is that I empathize with him,” Rafael replies carefully.

“I’m sorry, are you my brother or his brother?” Max asks in annoyance. “Maybe I should call Selena or Lexi and see who they side with.”

“There are no sides here, Max. Just one side: the side that keeps the kids safe,” Rafael tells him. “They’re too young for this shit.”

“Yeah, but we can’t control all the shit people say about us and do to us!”

“No, but we can control other things,” Rafael points out. “If David wants to go somewhere safer, then he should be allowed to do that. You know this. I don’t have to explain this to you.”

“But this is always gonna be there, Rafael,” Max points out quietly. “If he leaves now, then he’ll just keep leaving every time it gets difficult.”

“If that’s something you’re worried about, then you should tell him that,” Rafael says.

Max sighs at that. He doesn’t know how to have that conversation without breaking down.

“Will you talk to him?” Rafael asks. “Talk to him and let me know how it goes.”

“Okay,” Max sighs. “I hate how talking is like the solution to everything. There has to be another way.”

Rafael chuckles at that. “Just do it, you little shit.”

“Fine,” Max drawls. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Good,” Rafael sounds satisfied. “You were wrong, you know.”

“Surprise, surprise,” Max says dryly.

“I know we can’t control what people say about us or do to us, but we can shield ourselves away from it,” Rafael says quietly. “Sometimes…sometimes I think we knew too much. The two of us. We know too much about what they were saying about our parents and us, and we were too young for that.”

Max bites his lip at that. “We couldn’t have done anything about it.”

“No,” Rafael says. “But Dad and Bapak could’ve.”

Max swallows at that and shakes his head. “Man, I don’t have time to rehash all that trauma. I have new problems to deal with.”

“Okay. Okay,” Rafael concedes. “Talk to David.”

“Will do,” Max replies. “Thanks, Rafe. Love you.”

“I got you,” Rafael says. “Love you too.”

When Max goes back inside, Arthur is in the kitchen with David, eating fruit and cheese with a glass of milk. Max finds out that Lance fell asleep without dinner, making him wonder if the boy was indeed too emotionally exhausted from the day. After putting Arthur to sleep, Max heads upstairs to the master bedroom.

This isn’t their home. They own it, but they only stay here when they visit family or come back when they miss New York. But this isn’t home. Not for their family.

“Hey,” Max says to David, who is setting up their bed and fluffing the pillows. “Can we talk?”

“We can talk in the morning,” David replies. “I’m exhausted from today.”

“I don’t want us to go to sleep angry,” Max sighs.

“Then don’t sleep.”

“Can you stop being a dick for a minute so we can actually have a conversation?” Max asks in frustration.

“There’s no need for a conversation, Max. I’m fucking off to France. Just as you said.”

“Sweetheart,” Max whispers tiredly. “Please.”

David sighs too and turns around. “I thought you’d understand. I thought you of all people would know how awful it feels to be hounded by the paparazzi. But you don’t seem to take it seriously.”

“I do! I promise you, David, I do,” Max says seriously. “I just don’t think there’s much we can do about it. I thought you knew that. You understand what this life is like. This is nothing new for us.”

“Well, it’s different now, isn’t it?” David asks him.

“How is it different?” Max challenges. “We’ve lived this way our entire lives. We’ve been scrutinized, invaded, and torn into pieces by the media, the paparazzi, and every person with a Twitter account. So why is it bothering you now?”

“Because it’s happening to our children, Max!” David all but yells at him. “It’s one thing when it happens to us, and we turn away and pretend it doesn’t bother us. But I will not tolerate it when it happens to our children. They are our children. We are supposed to protect them.”

Max is quiet for a long time. All the words are too much for him. He doesn’t know what to respond to first, so he picks the one that hurts the most.

“Is that what you do?” Max asks him. “Pretend it doesn’t bother you? Tolerate it? For me?”

David sighs defeatedly. “It’s like you said. There isn’t much we can do about it.”

“Do you hate our life?” Max whispers.

“I didn’t say that,” David shakes his head.

“Do you hate me for putting our kids through this?” Max presses.

“I didn’t say that!” David groans.

“But you’re thinking it, aren’t you?” Max whispers. “You hate this.”

“It doesn’t matter how I feel about this. It matters how it affects our children. And it is affecting them badly.”

Max doesn’t know how to respond to that. How could David even say something like that? How could he say it doesn’t matter how he feels when all Max cares about is how David feels?

“Do you know there are Instagram pages dedicated to our children?” David goes on. “Arthur is five years old, Max. He is five, and people are shipping him with the daughter of that basketball player you met at the Met Gala. This is creepy. This shouldn’t be allowed.”

“What do you want me to do?” Max snaps in anger. “I can’t control what people do, David. I know it’s weird as fuck. But what the fuck do you want me to do about it?”

“I am not asking you to do anything, Max. You’ve made it clear that there’s nothing you can do about it,” David points out. “But there is something I can do, and I am going to do it.”

“You’re leaving.”

“I want a flight out of here tomorrow,” David informs.

“What am I supposed to tell my family?” Max demands.

“I’m sure they’ll understand.”

“What about the party?”

“What about it?”

“Well, are you gonna come?” Max asks, his voice smaller than he hoped.

David sighs and turns to face him properly. “Of course I will be there, Max. The kids can be there too. But I don’t see why we have to be here a month before and put up with all this nonsense.”

“Because you’re my family!” Max says. “I need my family!”

“Your family is being harassed by the press and would like to be left the fuck alone,” David replies, his voice steady but laced with frustration. “I am leaving for Paris. This is not up for discussion.”

“Not up for discussion?” Max asks incredulously, his brows furrowing in disbelief. “What happened to communicating our feelings, huh? We’re supposed to talk about this.”

“I tried talking, but you won’t listen! You always downplay this. You tell me I overreact, or you say there’s nothing we can do, and I am sick of hearing it.”

“You are overreacting!” Max groans, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “What do you think is going to happen? What are you so worried about?”

“I’m not worried about the future, Max. I’m merely learning from our past mistakes,” David hisses, his fists clenched at his sides.

“What…what does that mean?” Max feels as if he’s been slapped. “Are you saying Lance’s accident happened because we were negligent?”

David swallows at that. “We only hired the security after his accident. Maybe…maybe we could’ve protected him if we had been more careful.”

“You mean if I had been more careful,” Max retorts, clenching his jaw.

“I didn’t say that!” David groans, frustration evident in his eyes. “I’m just saying I don’t want us to make the same mistakes again.”

“What, you think we’re gonna fuck up Arthur this time?” Max demands, his voice rising.

“And what if we do?” David snaps back, anger flashing in his eyes. “What if something happens to Arthur, and we have to ask ourselves what we could’ve done to prevent it?”

Max’s heart sinks at that. The insinuation that he’d get his children hurt – knowingly or unknowingly – makes him furious.

“I don’t know, David,” he hears himself respond. “You were the one in the car with Lance. What could you have done to prevent it?”

David’s beautiful mouth parts softly at that, and Max knows he fucked up. 

The other man exhales softly, his eyes closing shut as if blocking out the memories. “I think…I think I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight.”

“David,” Max’s voice is pleading, but it falls flat.

“Goodnight.” David’s back is already turned, leaving Max behind.

Max can’t sleep that night. He truly meant it when he said he doesn’t like going to sleep angry or hurt. He lies on the king-sized bed alone, staring at the ceiling until exhaustion claims him.

When he wakes up in the morning, anger and hurt mingle in his chest, more intense than before. The lack of sleep doesn’t help. When he goes downstairs, the kids are sitting on the kitchen counter, munching on pancakes. Great, he’s overslept too.

“Daddy!” Arthur cheers loudly at his presence, his face lighting up. “We eat pancakes!”

“Yummy,” Max manages a smile, leaning down to press kisses on their heads. He hesitates for a moment before pressing a quick kiss to David’s cheek. The other man thankfully doesn’t push him away. “Morning.”

“Dad, are you going to work today?” Lance asks.

“Yeah, buddy, I have to leave soon,” Max replies, trying not to let his fatigue show. “Do you wanna come with me?”

“Lance can stay home,” David interjects, turning to the children. “Joan and Iris are coming over. We can watch a movie.”

“Yay! Movie!” Arthur cheers, throwing up his jam-covered fists into the air.

“I wanna pick!” Lance says immediately.

The children immediately dive into a discussion about what they want to watch and whether Joan and Iris would like it. Max quietly moves closer to David, hesitating before placing his hands on the man’s waist. “Hi.”

David doesn’t respond, focusing intently on the pancakes.

“Are Lexi and Selena coming over too?” Max asks, trying to keep the conversation light. “I would’ve stayed home if I knew. When did you even organize this?”

“Let me see. I think it was right after you accused me of getting our son into an accident and impairing his vision,” David replies, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“David,” Max sighs, guilt coursing all over him. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m—”

“Have you sorted out the flights?” David asks, cutting him off. “Because I can book them myself if you’re busy.”

“I’m not—can you just give me a minute?” Max asks, frustration bubbling again. “Can you please do that? Can you give me time?”

“To do what?” David demands.

“To fix this,” Max gestures vaguely, desperation creeping into his voice. “Maybe there is another solution other than you leaving. We’ll find the right solution.”

“This isn’t about finding the right solution,” David snorts, crossing his arms. “This is about finding a solution that suits you.”

“That suits both of us,” Max corrects.

“Our children will be safer in France,” David reminds him, his tone firm. “How does that not suit you, Max?”

“Because I will miss them!” Max groans, the ache in his chest growing. “And I will miss you.”

“Then come with us,” David shrugs.

“I can’t just leave,” Max says incredulously, disbelief washing over him. “The party is—”

“A whole month away,” David interrupts. “I don’t even know what we’re doing here, Max.”

“We discussed this,” Max groans, frustration spilling over. “It’s good timing. Lance doesn’t have school, and we can spend the summer with our families. Don’t you miss your family?”

“Of course I do,” David sighs. “But I cannot enjoy a holiday when I know my children are in danger.”

“They are not in danger,” Max groans.

“Then we disagree,” David informs him, turning back to the stove as if that closes the conversation.

Max sighs as he heads back upstairs to get ready for work. When he emerges from the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, he finds the boys on the bed, engrossed in a game.

“Hey,” Max manages a half-smile. “What are you little heathens doing here?”

“Dad, do you want us to come to work with you?” Lance asks.

Max swallows hard, praying they don’t notice the tension with David. He sits on the edge of the bed and ruffles the boys’ hair. “Nah, you two stay back and enjoy the movie with your cousins. What are you watching, by the way?”

“Spider-Man!” Lance beams. “AJ likes it.”

“Daddy, is Spider-Man coming to the big Edom party?” Arthur asks thoughtfully.

“Which one?” Max chuckles, feigning ignorance.

“The tall one, like Papa,” Arthur says shyly. “I like him.”

“We’ll see,” Max replies, tugging playfully at the boy’s ear. “Spider-Man might be busy saving his neighborhood.”

He makes a mental note to have his secretary check if they can get Andrew Garfield to attend.

“Are we going back to Paris?” Lance asks. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“I’m not sure yet,” Max replies cautiously. “What do you think? Should we go back?”

“I miss Gwen,” Lance admits, biting his lip.

“But you have friends here too,” Max points out. “You can play with Cami.”

“It’s loud here,” Lance insists, his little face scrunching up.

“Oh,” Max says softly, realizing the weight of his son’s words.

“And too many people,” Arthur chimes in. “They’re always taking pictures. I don’t have time to pose.”

“I know,” Max whispers, his heart aching for them. “Do you want to go back to Paris with Papa?”

“You’re not coming?” Lance gasps, eyes wide.

“I have to stay and work here,” Max reminds them gently.

“But you work in Paris,” Arthur says, confusion evident in his tone.

“Yeah, but my work is here right now,” Max tries to explain. “Daddy can come back when it’s over.”

“I don’t like that,” Lance pouts, crossing his arms defiantly.

“Me too,” Arthur huffs, clearly unhappy.

“We’ll talk about it later, okay?” Max says, pinching Arthur’s cheek lightly. “Why don’t you go wash your hands? I still see some jam on them.”

“Because I still eat!” Arthur declares, jumping off the bed and darting out of the room, no doubt headed for the Nutella jar.

Max turns back to Lance, who’s watching him intently. “You still hungry?”

“Why can’t you come too?” Lance asks worriedly.

“Lance, I just explained it,” Max replies patiently. “I have work.”

“But isn’t it too loud for you?” Lance asks, concern etched on his face.

“I’m used to it,” Max shrugs with a sad smile.

Lance frowns, determination set in his features. “Maybe if I stay, I’ll get used to it too.”

Oh.

Oh no.

This isn’t okay. This isn’t okay at all.

“Were you scared yesterday?” he asks quietly, lowering his voice.

“Just a little bit,” Lance admits reluctantly.

“Yeah?”

“When I fell, my cane got kicked away, and I was suddenly scared,” Lance confesses, biting his lip. “But Papa found it quickly.”

“I’m sorry that happened,” Max tells him softly. “That sounds terrifying.”

“Not terrifying,” Lance huffs. “Just a little scary.”

“I don’t want you to be scared,” Max replies. “Even just a little.”

“I’m a big boy,” Lance insists, puffing out his chest.

Max is struck by the irony of the statement. He remembers telling his own parents the same thing. He remembers being terrified by claiming otherwise anyway.

“You’re just a kid,” Max tells him.

When he climbs into the car a little later, instead of heading to the office for his breakfast meeting, he informs his team to go ahead without him. He goes to Brooklyn. 

“Max!” Bapak’s face lights up at the sight of him. “This is a surprise! Hello, darling.”

“I thought we were doing brunch on Friday?” Dad asks, brow furrowed in confusion. “Wait, you’re not rescheduling again, right?”

Max winces. “Have I been doing that a lot?”

He doesn’t even handle the rescheduling himself. When things get hectic, he just instructs his secretary to push things around without paying attention to what gets moved or whom it affects. He wishes they had called him out sooner.

“It’s alright, Blue; we know you’re busy,” Bapak says, heading back to the kitchen. “How are things going with the anniversary party? Shinyun seems very excited about it.”

“Why didn’t you take my phone away?” Max asks suddenly.

“What?” Dad blinks, caught off guard.

“Why didn’t you take my phone away when I was younger?” Max elaborates.

“We…we did,” Bapak chuckles nervously. “Remember when you posted that TikTok about Valentine and we confiscated your phone?”

“Not as a punishment, Bapak! Why didn’t you just take it from me to…to protect me?” Max presses.

“Because it would’ve made things worse,” Dad replies seriously. “You would’ve thrown a tantrum—”

“I was a kid!” Max interrupts. “I would’ve had to listen to you! You should’ve taken it away.”

“Max, where is this coming from?” Bapak asks, concern etching his features. “Did something happen?”

“No, it doesn’t matter,” Max sighs, his frustration palpable.

Dad moves closer to him. “Max, you were addicted to your phone. It would’ve been like telling you not to see David anymore. I did tell you not to see David, and you didn’t listen, remember?”

“It’s not the same!” Max exclaims. “If you had taken it away…If I didn’t have it, I wouldn’t have seen things and known things that still haunt me at night.”

Like seeing his own parents’ naked pictures leaked online. Like being called a whore and a rapist at eighteen. Like every meme and article dissecting his life.

“The phone wasn’t the problem, Max,” Dad tells him gently.

“No, but not having access to it would’ve helped,” Max admits quietly. “I wouldn’t have obsessively Googled my name and yours, and our entire family, just to see what people were saying about us.”

“I…we didn’t know you did that,” Bapak says in a whisper.

“No, I guess you didn’t,” Max replies, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Look, I’m not here to blame you or make you feel bad or anything. I just thought you should be aware of these things. Because of Minnie. She’s still a kid. And you can protect her from all of this.”

“Are you saying we didn’t protect you?” Dad swallows hard.

“Not from everything, Dad,” Max shakes his head. “And it’s not your fault. I guess we didn’t realize these were the things we needed protection from.”

His parents exchange looks of confusion and hurt.

“I need a smoke,” Dad says abruptly, shaking his head as he walks out of the living room.

Max flops onto the couch, exhaling heavily. “He’s still doing that?”

“Once in a while,” Bapak hums, settling beside him. “I’m not going to lie, Max. This is very painful for us to hear.”

“I didn’t say it to make you feel bad,” Max responds honestly.

“I know,” Bapak replies, offering a small smile. “I’m glad you told us. I will talk to Minerva when she returns from camp. You know she keeps things close to her chest.”

She did. Minerva wasn’t like Rafael, who hid things until they exploded, nor like Max, who let everything out without reservation. Minerva kept everything inside, and that’s why they needed to do better.

“Yeah,” Max agrees. “It might be too late for me, but you should talk to her.”

“It’s not too late for you,” Bapak asserts, shaking his head. “You might not be a child, but you are still our son. And we will always do everything we can to protect you.”

Max knots his fingers together, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. “I had a fight with David.”

“I see,” Bapak nods slowly. “He’s worried about the boys?”

“I think he’s going to leave me, Bapak,” Max admits quietly.

“Well, that’s nonsense,” Bapak chuckles lightly.

“You left Dad,” Max points out, not as an accusation, just a fact.

“David is not me,” Bapak replies firmly. “If he wanted to leave you, he would’ve done so already.”

“Well, that doesn’t help,” Max grumbles.

Bapak takes Max’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m sorry you saw things you shouldn’t have. It pains me that it still keeps you up at night.”

“Not every night,” Max clarifies quickly, not wanting to hurt his father further. “Just once in a while.”

“Well, during those nights, I want you to know that you can come talk to us about it,” Bapak says gently.

Yeah, Max isn’t going to do that. But he nods anyway, changing the subject. “Where’s MJ?”

“Art camp,” Bapak smiles. “She’s been very excited about your party. How’s that going? Do you need any help?”

“No, I’ve got that covered,” Max shakes his head. “I…I should go check on Dad.”

“Okay,” Bapak says softly. “Thank you for telling us. I mean it.”

“Okay,” Max manages a smile.

“He’s not going to leave you, Max,” Bapak reassures him.

“I’ll probably burn the world down if he does,” Max half-jokes.

Max finds his other father on the balcony, lost in thought with a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. He doesn’t even bother extinguishing it when Max steps up to join him.

“I don’t like this shit,” Dad mutters, shaking his head. “I can’t go back in time and fix this.”

“I didn’t tell you to fix it,” Max replies. “I told you because I want you to do better with MJ.”

“You should’ve told me sooner,” Dad insists.

“I didn’t have to,” Max counters, shaking his head. “You should’ve known.”

Dad lets out a deep sigh, putting the cigarette away. “You know, I used to drink.”

Max snorts lightly. “Yeah, I know.”

“Whenever I saw something online that hurt…you know how it was,” Dad admits, his voice trailing off. “It stung so bad, and I drank to cope.”

“I know,” Max says, quietly this time.

“I guess I didn’t think about how you coped with all of this,” Dad says softly. “What…what did you do, Max?”

“Nothing,” Max admits. “Not everyone copes with everything. Sometimes, you just let it hurt.”

“Fuck,” Dad mutters.

“I don’t want you to feel bad,” Max shakes his head.

“I do feel bad. I feel fucking horrible,” Dad replies, his voice filled with regret. “But that’s the point. I’m sorry, Max. I wish I’d done better.”

“You did do better,” Max says earnestly. “You were great. You just…weren’t perfect.”

“Yeah, no parent is,” Dad sighs. “I know I wasn’t perfect. I never wanted to be. I just wanted to be better than my dad. And I thought I was. I know I was. You and Rafael are better than me. That’s how it should be. We should always leave things better than we found them.”

“I know,” Max nods. He knows. “Will you talk to MJ?”

“I will,” Dad promises. “You can be there if you want.”

“No. You should talk to her as her parents,” Max insists. “Just let her know you’re there to protect her.”

“You’re a good brother,” Dad says with a soft smile, squeezing Max’s shoulder. “And you’re a great dad.”

“I feel like a shitty husband,” Max sighs.

Dad’s expression darkens. “Do you want me to fight that French piece of shit? Because I will.”

Max chuckles, shaking his head. “I miss you, Dad.”

Dad’s eyes soften. “I miss you more.”

Max heads to Edom a little later, where he does a quick check-in with the team before locking himself inside, informing his secretary that he has a private appointment.

Late last night, unable to sleep, he reached out to Dr. Hassan. He hadn’t expected such a swift response or for the therapist to agree to meet the very next day.

“Max,” Dr. Hassan smiles from the screen. “How are you?”

They’ve known each other for a long time. Max used to attend weekly sessions when he lived in London. Over time, they turned into biweekly sessions, and now he only talks to Dr. Hassan once a month.

“I’m okay,” Max manages a faint smile. “Thanks for seeing me on such short notice, Doctor H. And I’m sorry for requesting a last-minute appointment.”

“I wouldn’t have agreed to meet if I didn’t have the time,” Dr. Hassan reassures him calmly. “It’s been a while since you’ve scheduled an impromptu session. Do you want to tell me why you felt the need to talk today?”

Max sighs, the weight of his thoughts pressing on him. “I think David is gonna divorce me.”

The older man nods thoughtfully. “Alright. Did David tell you he wants a divorce?”

“Well, no—”

“Then maybe start by telling me what happened, instead of telling me what you think is going to happen, and we can take it from there,” Dr. Hassan suggests gently.

Max sighs. 

He recounts the events of yesterday, and the conversation with his parents this morning.

“I’m really glad you talked to your parents, Max. And you did it without being prompted. That’s great progress. How do you feel after that conversation?”

“A little better,” Max admits honestly. “But...I’m still sad, I guess?”

“That’s understandable. You’ve confronted something painful from your past. That’s not easy.”

But it’s not the past that’s haunting Max right now. Not anymore. What terrifies him is the future.

“What are you thinking about?” Dr. Hassan’s voice brings him back to the present.

“Hm?” Max blinks.

“What’s on your mind right now?” the therapist repeats.

Max hesitates before answering. “I was thinking about a video I watched when my parents got divorced. Someone interviewed a child psychologist about how it would affect me and Rafe.”

“That must’ve been hard to watch, people speculating about your emotions.”

“She said it wouldn’t affect us too much,” Max remembers. “Because we were older.”

“It depends on the type of impact we’re talking about,” Dr. Hassan responds. “We’ve acknowledged that your parents’ divorce did affect you both, though in different ways. Do you want to revisit that?”

Max shakes his head slightly. “She said the worst age for divorce is when your kids are just starting school. It’s too much change at once.”

“I’m not a child psychologist, but I can see how that could be overwhelming,” Dr. Hassan nods.

“I can’t get divorced right now,” Max says quietly. “Lance just found a school he loves, and Arthur starts next year. It would be too much for them.”

Dr. Hassan pauses for a moment before speaking. “May I make an observation?”

Max chuckles weakly. “That’s literally your job, doc.”

“You’ve been bringing up divorce more and more recently,” Dr. Hassan notes. “After Lance’s accident, you thought David would divorce you. When rumors about you and that model circulated, you thought the same thing. It seems like you anticipate divorce as the outcome whenever something goes wrong.”

Max shrugs. “Yeah, because I have divorce trauma. My bapak left my dad, and I think my husband will leave me too.”

Dr. Hassan leans forward slightly. “I’m not sure that’s the full picture. You and David have been together for almost two decades, and we’ve had sessions for nearly as long. This fear didn’t manifest before.”

“Because I’m the second choice now,” Max blurts out without thinking.

“Would you like to elaborate on that?” his therapist asks.

Max throws his head back, sighing. “The kids are his priority now. And I’m not mad about it, I’m really not. I just...It’s just a fact.”

“How does that make you feel? Not being David’s first choice anymore?” Dr. Hassan asks softly.

“Scared,” Max admits quietly. “Like I’m replaceable. Like if I mess up, he’ll leave because he’s more worried about the kids than about us.”

Dr. Hassan nods at that, his gaze gentle but probing. “Do you really believe that you’re replaceable in David’s life? That one mistake or misstep would mean he’d leave?”

Max shifts uncomfortably in his chair, picking at the fabric of his shirt. “I know it sounds stupid when you say it like that, but it feels real to me. We’ve been together forever, and I love our family, but sometimes I think…maybe David could be happier without me.”

Dr. Hassan doesn’t interrupt, letting the silence stretch for a moment. “What makes you think he could be happier without you?”

Max bites his lip, his voice soft when he speaks. “Because I’m a lot to deal with. The rumors, the public image, the constant scrutiny. David deserves someone who doesn’t come with all that baggage. Someone who doesn’t make him worry.”

Dr. Hassan watches him closely. “Do you think David would prefer someone else? Or do you feel like you’re not enough?”

“I feel like I’m not enough,” he whispers, blinking back the sting in his eyes. “I feel like one day, David’s going to wake up and realize he could have someone who doesn’t cause all this trouble. And that scares me more than anything.”

“You’ve mentioned fear a lot today,” Dr. Hassan observes. “Fear of being replaced, fear of not being enough. Have you ever talked to David about these feelings?”

Max shakes his head quickly. “No. I don’t want to sound pathetic. He already has so much to worry about with the kids, and I don’t want to add to that. It’s not fair to him.”

“Do you think it’s fair to you, though?” Dr. Hassan asks gently. “Carrying all this fear alone, without letting your partner in on what’s troubling you?”

Max swallows, his throat tight. “No… but what if he agrees with me? What if I tell him how I feel and he realizes I’m right? That he could do better?”

Dr. Hassan’s voice is soft but firm. “What if he tells you that you’re wrong, and that he chooses you every day?”

Max’s heart clenches at the thought, but the doubt still lingers. “I don’t know. It’s hard to believe that when I don’t always feel like his first choice anymore.”

Dr. Hassan leans back, thoughtful. “It sounds like you're not only scared of losing David, but of losing the sense of security you once had in your relationship. The fear seems to be coming from a place inside you—one that may have less to do with David and more to do with your own self-worth.”

“God, not the self-worth shit again,” Max groans loudly, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “You know it’s my least favorite thing to talk about.”

Dr. Hassan chuckles softly. “Oh, I know. But it’s important, Max. We can come back to it later, though, if you’d like.” He pauses, raising an eyebrow. “Perhaps after you’ve talked to David?”

Max’s eyes narrow slightly. “You want me to talk to David?”

“I always want you to talk to David,” Dr. Hassan replies, smiling warmly. “Your therapist can’t be the only person you’re vulnerable with. You did a fantastic job confronting your parents today. I think it’s time you keep that momentum going and have an open conversation with David too.”

Max lets out a groan, slumping back in his chair. “Christ, okay. But if he divorces me, I’m blaming it on you.”

“If it comes to that,” Dr. Hassan nods with a knowing smile. “Now, was there something else you wanted to discuss?”

Max straightens up, remembering why he’d scheduled the session in the first place. “Yes, actually. I want to brainstorm. I want...I want to help my kids.” His voice softens with uncertainty. “I don’t know how to do that. David keeps saying we can do better, but I don’t know what ‘better’ looks like. I just…ride it out when stuff like this happens. I don’t want the kids to do that.”

Dr. Hassan listens carefully, his expression serious but open. “It sounds like you're worried about repeating a cycle. You’ve been through this before, and you want to protect your kids from the same experience. That’s a good place to start—acknowledging that you don’t want them to go through what you did.”

Max nods, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, but what does that even look like? I can't exactly shield them from everything. I was in the spotlight since I was a kid, and it sucked. Cameras in my face, every mistake blown up, and it wasn’t my parents’ fault. They tried, but…” he trails off, the memory weighing on him.

Dr. Hassan nods. “That’s valid. So, let’s think about what you can do. First, open communication is key. Have you and David talked to the kids about what’s happening? Not just about the press or paparazzi, but how it’s making them feel?”

Max looks down. “A little, but I don’t know how to have that conversation without scaring them.”

“Your instinct is to protect them, which is good. But avoiding the conversation can sometimes make the fear worse,” Dr. Hassan explains. “If you can acknowledge what’s happening and let them express their feelings, it gives them some power over the situation. They’ll know they’re not alone in it.”

Max exhales slowly. “Yeah, I guess we can do that.”

“And on a practical level,” Dr. Hassan continues, “you and David can set boundaries with the media. You have more influence than your parents did back then. You can negotiate privacy agreements, involve legal teams if necessary, and even make public statements about respecting your kids' space.”

Max pulls out his phone, unlocking it to type furiously. He starts jotting down notes as Dr. Hassan speaks, especially at the mention of setting boundaries and involving legal teams.

His therapist is right. He does have more power than his parents did. If he’s not gonna use it to protect his family, then what the fuck is the point of having it?

Max leans back, rubbing his temples. “I think I can work on this. I...I just don’t want them to feel like they’re trapped. Like no matter where they go, they’ll always be watched. I want them to know they’re not alone. That we’ll always have their backs.”

Dr. Hassan smiles softly. “That’s the most important part, Max. It’s not about preventing every hardship, but about making sure they know they have a safe place to come back to when things get tough. You can be that for them.”

Max exhales, lowering the phone. "Lance’s accident…it came up during the fight with David."

Dr. Hassan blinks, his disappointment evident but measured. “You blamed him for that?”

Max clenches his jaw. His therapist knows him too well. “I don’t really blame him. We were fighting and it’s just…it was the easiest way to hurt him in the moment, you know?”

“That’s exactly the problem,” Dr. Hassan says, leaning forward. “You weaponized something deeply traumatic for both of you.”

“I know,” Max whispers, his voice thick with regret. “I know.”

Dr. Hassan nods slowly. “It might feel like control at the moment, hurting him to win an argument, but what does it actually achieve? Does it solve anything, or does it push him further away?”

Max closes his eyes, his chest heavy with realization. “It pushes him away.”

“Exactly,” Dr. Hassan nods again. “You’ve been with David for a long time, Max. He’s not going anywhere. But if you keep weaponizing the things that hurt the most, you’ll create more distance between you.”

Max opens his eyes, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I don’t want that. I can’t lose him.”

“Then don’t,” Dr. Hassan says gently. “Focus on what really matters—keeping your family safe, building trust, and addressing your fears instead of letting them control you.”

Max nods, taking a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll talk to David. And…the lawyers. If we’re not going to fight back for our kids, for our marriage, then what the hell are we even doing?”

Dr. Hassan offers a small smile. “That’s the right question to ask.”

They talk for a little longer, agreeing to meet during their scheduled monthly appointment in two weeks. Max never thought of himself as the kind of guy who'd go to therapy - or that he'd even like it. Yet there they are. 

On his way back to the residence, Max texts Shinyun. He had discussed this with Dr. Hassan as well, and he just hoped she wouldn’t be angry or think less of him.

[To: Shinyun 👸🏻🕷️]

hey

im thinking of going back to paris

will handle everything from there for the next couple of weeks

will be back a week before the party to pull stuff together 🙏🏽

Shinyun, predictable as ever, simply reacts to his messages with a thumbs-up emoji. Max groans to himself and texts her again. 

[To: Shinyun 👸🏻🕷️]

are u okay with that?

i wanna stay and work from here

but there’s some stuff with the kids and i don’t want them in ny rn

i feel bad for asking u to come here to help me and then fucking off 😕

Shinyun texts back immediately.

[From: Shinyun 👸🏻🕷️]

I am happy to stay back and work on this.

And you can do whatever you want, Max. You run the company.

If you feel you can handle it from Paris, then you do that.

I trust your judgment.

Besides we have an excellent team on the ground.

I’m sure they’ll handle things just fine if you give them clear instructions and check in with them regularly.

[To: Shinyun 👸🏻🕷️]

okay

yeah i think the team is great too 😇

thanks, shinyun!

[From: Shinyun 👸🏻🕷️]

You’re welcome.

Hope everything is alright with the kids 🙂

Let me know if you need any help.

[To: Shinyun 👸🏻🕷️]

actually…

do you know a good lawyer I can talk to about privacy issues with the media?

[From: Shinyun 👸🏻🕷️]

I know just the one.

Will send her contact shortly.

[To: Shinyun 👸🏻🕷️]

Thanks 🖤

When Max gets home, he is ambushed by the boys with yet another prank, nearly making him slip into the swimming pool. Laughing, he chases them around the yard, their shrieks echoing as they run away. Finally, Max tackles them onto the grass, tickling them mercilessly until they’re all breathless.

“How was Spider-Man?” Max asks once they’ve collapsed in the grass, soaking in the summer sun.

“We watched a cartoon,” Lance complains. “Iris didn’t want to watch Spider-Man.”

“It was so cute,” Arthur coos happily. “Lance cried.”

“I didn’t cry! I sniffled,” Lance corrects indignantly.

“Daddy, I want a baby elephant,” Arthur says dreamily. “A purple one.”

“I’ll start the search,” Max replies with a playful salute.

David calls from the balcony, reminding them to take baths before dinner since they’ve been playing with their cousins all day and are now sweaty. The boys giggle and tickle Max a little more before scampering inside, but Max catches Lance by the arm and pulls him back.

“Hey,” Max presses a kiss to Lance’s cheek. “I was thinking...I should come to Paris with you.”

“Really?” Lance gasps, his face lighting up. “That’s awesome!”

“Yeah?” Max smiles.

“Yeah,” Lance nods eagerly. “Papa is always sad when you’re away.”

“Well, we don’t want Papa to be sad, do we?” Max says, ruffling his hair.

“Nope!” Lance agrees solemnly before dashing off after his brother, yelling, “AJ! Wait for me!”

Max lies there for a while, staring up at the sky. It looks the same in New York as it does in Paris. And he realizes he doesn’t care where he is, as long as David is beside him.

“You should take a bath too.”

Max opens his eyes, squinting up at his husband before casually tugging off his shirt and pants.

“I need to swim for a bit,” he says, rolling into the pool with a splash. “I’ll join you inside.”

But David doesn’t go inside. Instead, he hesitates for a moment, then rolls up the cuffs of his jeans and sits at the edge of the pool, dipping his legs into the water.

Max floats on his back, a smile tugging at his lips. He remembers the times when they used to spend hours like this—Max practicing laps while David read a book nearby.

“You don’t swim as much as you used to,” David remarks.

“Have I put on weight?” Max blinks up at him.

David rolls his eyes at that. “You’ve been working too much. I meant you don’t spend time on things you love anymore.”

“Does that include you?” Max asks worriedly.

“That’s a tough one,” David says. “No amount of time you spend with me is ever enough.”

Max sighs and swims a little closer. “I spoke to Dr. Hassan today.”

“Oh?” David doesn’t seem surprised. “Do you have something to tell me?”

Max hesitates. He doesn’t want to dive into the conversation about his parents, not right now. It’s too raw, too complicated. Max trusts David with his heart, even if there are some things he just can’t say out loud yet. Rafael might understand it better.

“He said we should talk...about the things we’re afraid of.”

David’s posture shifts, his expression cautious. “Okay,” he says gently. “Talk to me.”

“You first,” Max insists. “What are you afraid of?”

David stays silent, staring at the water. Max swims over, resting his wet hands on David’s thighs.

“David,” Max whispers, “what scares you?”

“I’m terrified of our children getting hurt again,” he admits, his words trembling. “I’m scared that if it happens, it’ll break me.”

“It won’t happen,” he says firmly, even though his heart aches at the vulnerability of David’s confession. “Look at me. Hey, babe, look at me.”

David’s soft blue eyes meet Max’s, slowly calming under his gaze. Max presses a tender kiss to the inside of David’s palm.

“Do you trust me?” Max asks, and David nods without a second thought. “I won’t let anything happen to them. We’ll be careful. We’ll do everything we can to keep them safe.”

David exhales shakily. “What...what does that mean?”

“It means we’re going back to Paris.”

“We?” David looks surprised.

“You’re not abandoning me, asshole,” Max rolls his eyes.

“But won’t that affect your work?” David asks, worry creasing his brow.

“Not really. I don’t think so. Not a lot.”

“Max, please don’t downplay this,” David says earnestly. “I know how much your work means to you. I’m so proud of everything you’ve achieved, and I want to see you go even further. I never want to stand in your way.”

“You don’t,” Max reassures him. “David, I couldn’t have done any of this without you by my side.”

David looks unconvinced. “Are you sure going to Paris won’t hurt your work?”

“I’ve already spoken to Shinyun,” Max says. “I’ll handle things remotely. I just need a few days to talk to my team and put together a plan before I leave. Can you give me that? A couple of days?”

David breathes out, relief evident in his features. “Yes, I can do that.”

“Good,” Max says, kissing his palm again. “Then we’ll go to Paris, and we’ll be back just in time for the party. You can even join later if you want, maybe the day before.”

“I want to be here for you,” David shakes his head. “This is important.”

“I found a lawyer for us,” Max says then, mostly to distract the other man.

“A lawyer?” David blinks.

“For the kids,” Max explains. “I just had a quick chat on my way back. She seems solid. She can help us negotiate and set some strict terms about the visibility of the kids online. That means we can sue people who post pictures of our kids – or make creepy pages about them. It means we can get restraining orders. We’ll do whatever we need to keep them safe.”

David lurches forward at that, throwing his arms around Max and getting his clothes wet in the process.

“Thank you,” the blonde man whispers into his neck. “Thank you, mon ange.”

“You weren’t overreacting,” Max tells him quietly. “I think…I think I was underreacting. Because you’re right. I’m used to this shit.”

“I understand, Max. I’ve seen the world you grew up in,” David tells him gently. “I know it’s difficult for you to come to terms with this.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t do anything sooner,” Max whispers back. “It doesn’t mean I didn’t care.”

David pulls back at that, cupping his face. “You care more than anyone I know.”

Max bites his lip tightly. “I’m sorry I said that thing about the accident.”

David sighs softly. “I know.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Max, I know,” David shakes his head. “I know you didn’t mean what you said. I know you only said it to hurt me in the moment.”

“I’m an asshole,” Max mumbles.

“Sometimes,” David agrees, running his fingers through Max’s wet hair. “Just do better for me next time.”

“Always,” Max promises. “You have no idea how hard I try for you, David.”

“I have some idea,” David smiles softly.

Max buries his face in the man’s thigh and sighs softly. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You said it doesn’t matter how this is affecting you,” Max says, looking up. “It matters to me.”

“I am an adult,” David points out. “I am used to this life.”

“That’s irrelevant,” Max counters. “If this is bothering you, then I want to do something about it. We’ll talk to the lawyer, okay?”

“I just want the kids to be okay,” David sighs.

“And I want all of you to be okay,” Max adds. “We can’t take care of the kids properly if we’re not feeling okay.”

“That’s true,” David admits reluctantly. “But I don’t want to cause too much trouble. I promise. I can handle it.”

“Oh, I know you can handle anything, babe,” Max grins, tickling the soles of David’s feet under the water.

“Max! Stop it!” David groans, pushing him away.

Max chuckles as he swims further away. “You should check on the kids. You know what happened the last time you left them alone in the bubble bath.”

“You didn’t tell me,” David says.

“About what?” Max asks, turning around and floating in the water again.

“What is scaring you?”

“Hmm?”

“I told you what is scaring me,” David reminds him. “You never told me what is scaring you.”

“Oh,” Max says. “Global warming?”

“Max.”

“Look how hot it is!” Max points at the sky. “It’s a real threat, babe.”

“Maxwell.”

“Ugh,” Max groans to himself and turns away because he can’t say this stupid stuff to David’s face. “I’m scared that you’re gonna leave me.”

“Leave you?”

“Like you know,” Max shrugs. “Take the kids and leave me.”

David is quiet for a moment, and then Max hears the water slosh around. He turns to find David swimming toward him.

“You’ve ruined your clothes,” Max notes.

“If only I were married to the king of a fashion empire,” David says dryly.

“It’s a community, babe, not an empire. You were right there during the rebranding—”

“Go where?” David asks wrapping his arms around Max's neck. 

“Hmm?” Max says, suddenly distracted by his very beautiful and very wet husband next to him.

“Leave you and go where?” David asks. “My soul is tied to yours, Max. Only death can separate us.”

“That sounds intense,” Max jokes, even though the knot he’s been carrying around all day in his chest loosens a little.

“Did you really think I’d leave you?” David asks worriedly.

“Maybe if I keep putting the kids in danger,” Max admits quietly.

“You don’t put our kids in danger; the world does,” David corrects. “What I need you to do is stand by me and fight the world to keep our kids safe.”

“I’ll fight whoever you want,” Max promises.

David chuckles and presses a soft kiss to Max’s lips. “I will never ever leave you.”

“Will you remind me?” Max asks. “Just every once in a while?”

“As much as you want,” David whispers and kisses him again.

Max wraps his arms around David’s waist and deepens the kiss just as he hears squealing from the distance as two small forms covered in foam and bubbles rush toward the pool.

“No. No. No! Don’t jump into the pool!” Max yells just as the kids scream and dive bomb in together.

It’s his fault. He taught them how to do that.

David laughs as he lets go of Max and swims toward the children to see if they are okay. Max’s chest tightens at that a little. His abandonment issues cling to him like old scars, raw and aching under the slightest pressure.

He knows it’s something he needs to work on, something that will take time. Hopefully, he can talk to David about it. Or maybe things will change when the kids are older—when they become a little more independent, David might return fully to him, and Max can have him all to himself again.

Either way, this isn’t David’s burden to carry. It’s his own. And he’ll find a way to work through it.

“Now the pool is going to smell like strawberry soap,” Max complains as he swims over to his family.

“Yay!” Arthur cheers, as if that’s a good thing.

“We should get out of the pool. You’ve all been in the water for too long,” David notes seriously as he helps Lance climb out.

“Yeah, we should go have dinner,” Max informs them. “Then maybe talk about some stuff.”

“Talk?” Lance makes a face as if that’s the worst thing ever.

“Why talk?” Arthur hums, swimming further away. “We can sing!”

“AJ, come back here,” Max laughs as he swims after the boy and helps him out of the pool. “We’re going to dry off and then order some pizza, watch some Spider-Man, and then we’re going to talk.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to these terms,” Lance says, sounding far too much like Max’s dad.

“Me too,” Arthur nods in agreement.

“Alright, you two, that’s enough,” David chuckles as he wraps pool towels around the boys. “We’re going to go inside and get changed. And then we’re going to do as Daddy says, okay?”

“Fine,” Lance rolls his eyes.

“Fine,” Arthur copies him.

“Last one to go inside has to do the dishes,” Max announces to get the kids moving.

Lance bolts inside immediately, and Arthur runs after him, urging him to be careful. Max chuckles at that, shaking his head as he climbs out of the pool and holds out his hand for David.

David takes his hand but instead of pulling himself up, he yanks Max back into the water.

“Hey!” Max laughs.

David climbs out of the pool and blows him a kiss. “Enjoy doing the dishes.”

“We’re eating pizza!” Max says smugly. “No dishes.”

“Then you can do them tomorrow,” David replies, picking up Max’s clothes.

“I don’t remember agreeing to these terms,” Max says haughtily.

David chuckles and shakes his head. “Come on. Let’s go inside.”

Max climbs out of the pool and allows David to wrap a towel around him, pressing a kiss to his nose.

“I love you,” David whispers.

“More than the kids?” Max asks half-jokingly.

“More than the whole world,” David replies.