CHAPTER 381: CHAPTER 381: EVENTUALLY

Trevor let out a shaky breath that almost sounded like a laugh. His composure or what little remained of it, wavered. The simple words ’I missed you’ landed with impossible weight.

Lucas came closer, the faint scent of his cologne, something green and soft, like rain after sunlight, mingled with his sweet scent, cutting through the sterile air of the office. Trevor’s pulse slowed, but only just. His instincts screamed at him to move, to touch, to confirm that the man in front of him was real and not another trick of his exhausted mind.

"You’re pale," Lucas murmured, setting the files on the edge of the desk. "Have you even eaten?"

Trevor managed a small, humorless smile. "I could ask you the same thing."

Lucas rolled his eyes, the gesture easy and familiar. "Windstone was feeding me like I was recovering from surgery. I escaped."

"Escaped?" Trevor repeated, the word dry. "You make it sound dramatic."

"It was," Lucas said lightly, then added after a pause, "you weren’t answering my messages."

Trevor’s gaze faltered. He hadn’t even checked his phone. He had been too lost in something that wasn’t supposed to exist anymore... an echo of a life that had ended before this one began.

He forced a steadier tone. "You should have rested, Lucas. The doctor..."

"...said I’m fine," Lucas interrupted gently. He stepped close enough that Trevor could see the faint shadow under his eyes, the small crease between his brows. "And if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were the one recovering from something."

Trevor said nothing. His throat felt tight again. He looked at Lucas, really looked, and the contrast between memory and reality almost broke him. The image from his dream lingered: sterile white sheets, the stillness of a hand that no longer barely reacted under his touch.

They had lost a child once. The knowledge of it lived somewhere deep, beneath reason and time. He carried it like a wound that had never quite healed.

Lucas tilted his head, studying him. "You’re somewhere else," he said softly. "What’s wrong?"

Trevor hesitated. The words ’I thought we lost him again’ almost slipped out, but he stopped them in his throat. Some truths didn’t belong in the daylight.

Instead, he reached out, fingers brushing the edge of Lucas’s sleeve. The fabric was warm from his skin and textured beneath Trevor’s fingertips; it was too real for any dream. He closed his hand gently around his wrist. "Nothing’s wrong," he said quietly. "You’re here."

Lucas’s expression softened, but his eyes searched Trevor’s face like he didn’t quite believe him. "You say that as if you’re trying to convince yourself," he murmured.

Trevor didn’t answer at first. His thumb moved absently over the inside of Lucas’s wrist, feeling the steady pulse beneath the skin. It was proof enough that this, he, was real. Yet the echo of the dream clung to him, a shadow that refused to fade.

After a moment, he drew in a slow breath. "There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you," he said, his voice quieter now, the words almost reluctant.

Lucas tilted his head slightly, curious. "You are really odd today, but sure, ask away."

"The journal," Trevor said. "The one that belonged to the former emperor. Have you read it?"

Lucas blinked, taken off guard. "No." He hesitated, shifting his weight. "It’s still where it’s always been. I’ve... avoided it."

"Why?" Trevor’s tone was gentle, but there was a thread of tension underneath, barely contained.

Lucas looked away for a moment, his gaze drifting toward the window. "Because I don’t want to remember more than I already do. Every time I see that thing, I feel like it’s waiting for me to open it and let something terrible crawl out. We’ve built peace here. I don’t want to break it with ghosts."

Trevor nodded slowly, his hand still resting against Lucas’s wrist. "Then keep avoiding it," he said, and there was something final in his tone, something that didn’t invite argument. "Don’t read it. Ever."

Lucas turned back to him, eyes narrowing slightly. "You’re that serious about it?"

"Yes."

There was a soft silence that followed, full of the understanding that could only exist between two people who had already suffered too many losses.

"You’ve read it," Lucas said finally.

Trevor’s eyes flicked down, then back up to meet his. "No. Actually I didn’t yet." He tugged Lucas’s arm until the omega was in his lap. "But I’ve thought about it and I want to read it for you to make sure that we are safe."

Lucas blinked, startled by both the honesty and the sudden pull. He settled against Trevor’s chest almost reluctantly, one hand braced against the edge of the desk to steady them both. The faint scent of paper, ink, and Trevor’s cologne mixed around them, familiar and grounding.

Trevor’s arms wrapped around him slowly, protective rather than possessive. He rested his chin on Lucas’s shoulder, his voice low against his skin. "I won’t open it unless I have to. But if there’s something inside that could hurt us, I’d rather be the one to face it."

Lucas turned his head slightly, his temple brushing against Trevor’s jaw. "You think it could still reach us? After everything that’s changed?"

Trevor hesitated, his fingers tracing a small, absent pattern over the back of Lucas’s hand. "I don’t know. But I’ve seen enough of how the past keeps clawing its way back. Your grandfather experienced the same thing as us and the fact that I’m remembering the past life..."

"You fucking what now?" Lucas tried to shift and glare at his husband, but Trevor’s grip was like steel.

"I’ve told you before that I think I remember..."

"That is entirely different from remembering or believing you remember."

Trevor’s mouth twitched, caught somewhere between apology and exasperation. "Lucas, listen..."

"No, you listen." Lucas finally pushed back enough to face him fully, his knees still on either side of Trevor’s thighs, eyes wide and bright with disbelief. "You’re telling me that while I’m out here trying to figure out dinner plans and pretending the world is normal, you’ve been, what, reliving another lifetime?"

Trevor’s grip loosened, but he didn’t let go. "Not reliving," he said quietly. "Remembering. There’s a difference."

Lucas blinked, incredulous. "That’s not a comforting clarification, Trevor."

Trevor sighed through his nose, leaning back slightly in the chair, one hand dragging over his face. "I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure. For months, pieces of it have been coming back: dreams, flashes, and entire conversations that shouldn’t exist. I thought it was stress or echoes of things I’d read. But the more I remembered, the more it started to line up with what little the archives said about your family."

Lucas stared at him like he was trying to read a language he didn’t believe existed. "You mean the former emperor’s family," he said slowly. "My grandfather’s line."

Trevor nodded once. "Yes."

Lucas folded his arms, unimpressed. "And you just... what? Sat on that information until now? When were you planning to bring it up... during dessert?"

Trevor’s lips quirked despite himself. "I was hoping for after dinner, actually."

Lucas smacked his shoulder, not gently. "Trevor."