drops of jupiter.

Leyla listened, her expression softening as Genesis spoke. The flicker of humour faded, replaced by something a little quieter, a little softer. "God, Gen," she said gently, nudging her shoulder with a light bump as a sympathetic expression coloured her features. "That sounds like a hell of a month. I would've lost it at the forks alone, let alone the nightlight situation. I'm sorry it's been so much all at once." She glanced down, brushing her hand across the water's surface, knowing everything Gen would be sacrificing as a mom. "It's hard when you're supposed to be the calm one, the strong one.. for them. —Did everything turn out okay?" Leyla looked at Genesis again, her gaze steady. “I just want to say, you don’t have to hold it all by yourself. If you ever need help or anything, I just hope you know I'm here."

A warmth bloomed in Genesis’s chest at the sound of Leyla’s words. For months, she’d kept herself at arm’s length as she grieved the loss of her marriage, and the possibility that Cameron was dating again. In that process, she'd let space grow between them, space she regretted now more than ever. Leyla had always been the kind of friend who showed up, the kind of friend who would have listened if she had only been honest with her and herself about how she was feeling. “Thank you,” Gen answered softly, glancing over at her friend with a look that held more meaning than the words alone. “I mean it. I'm sorry I've been such an awful friend lately.”

Before she could process the rest of the woman's words, her face lit up with surprise. “Wait—writing? Leyla, that’s amazing.” Her smile widened. “You absolutely should. I’ve actually been carving out more time for my art too. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.” She tucked a damp curl behind her ear, eyes bright with sincerity as the opposite hand combed through the waves. “You have a gift, and I think you owe it to yourself to give this part of your life some space again. It sounds like we both need to take some inspiration from Billie and follow our dreams."

Gen mentioned the coffee and Kit made a little gesture to the cup he had in his hands. "You think this is my first one? I know it's only eleven, but it's safe to say I've had more coffee today than I've had food. It's the only thing that keeps me going," he joked.

“Oh, absolutely I have. I used to feel so guilty about it. But then I realized... I’m a better mom when I’m not running on fumes and caffeine alone.” She tilted her head thoughtfully, the woman's smile tinged with a hint of weariness. “It took me a while to learn that resting doesn’t mean I’ve failed her. I mean, I still second-guess myself, don’t get me wrong... But every now and then, I’ll ask my mom to watch Juliana, or trade favours with another parent from school just so I can go to the grocery store in peace. Or, let’s be honest, go out for a drink with my best friend.”

She took a sip of her coffee and glanced over at him with a sympathetic grin. “You deserve that time too, you know. It doesn’t make you selfish. Especially when you’re raising so many little humans. Sometimes, what’s best for them is a parent who’s not completely burnt out. I remind myself of that a lot. And that's what I'm here for too. Even if it's just to take Miles off your hands for a few hours.”

Cameron’s arms came around her almost instinctively, holding her close as if that alone could make up for all the time they’d spent talking around things instead of through them. Her hug was quiet but powerful—like an anchor. And her words… they landed somewhere deep.

He held her for a long moment, his eyes closing as he let himself feel it all: the grief, the gratitude, the undeniable tenderness that still tethered them together, no matter how much had changed.

When he finally pulled back, just enough to see her face, his voice was soft but steady.

“God, Gen… I don’t think I realized how much I needed to hear that until just now.” His hand briefly cupped the back of her neck, grounding them both. “It wasn’t just the love that mattered—it's how hard we keep trying every day. And you’re right. We didn’t fail because we stopped loving each other. We just… lost our way.”

He shook his head a little, exhaling. “You’re right about Juliana, too. She’s the best thing we ever did. And I look at her, and I know—we still have something good. Something worth protecting. And maybe it’s not marriage, maybe it’s not the life we thought we were building, but it’s still ours. Still worth showing up for.”

Genesis felt a sudden sense of peace wash over her as Cameron's words sank in. It wasn’t just what he'd said, but the fact that he'd said it with that quiet reassurance she’d always appreciated. Even now, as exes, Cameron's tenderness still had a way of making her heart swell. We’re still a team. She hadn’t realized how badly she had needed to hear it from his lips. That despite the divorce and all of the moments where it felt like they were spiralling in opposite directions, he still saw them as something whole.

For a moment, a flicker of something hopeful stirred in her chest. Not about them getting back together, necessarily, but about what it meant to rebuild something meaningful with someone who knew your heart from the inside out. We didn’t fail. We evolved. And even if that evolution looked messier and more complicated than she once imagined, it didn’t mean it was any less valuable. She’d always thought that love either lasted forever or it didn’t—but maybe there was a kind that simply changed shape and kept showing up anyway.

With a warm smile, Gen gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. “We are still a team,” she agreed softly, her voice confident and steady. “And I think we make a pretty damn good one at that.” She was just about to say more when she could hear the sound of footsteps padding across the floorboards. With one of her toys still in hand, Juliana peeked her head out from around the corner. “Daddy, I'm hungry!” And just like that, any last bits of heaviness were replaced by the grounding presence of the little girl they’d centered their entire world around.

There were divorced, unhappy families like his own; there were divorced, happy families like Gen's; then he thought the unhappy, not-divorced family his parents had. He could never pinpoint which one seemed the best option out of them all.

"And see, that's what I think about. Imagine if we had stayed co-parenting. Then what? I have to send my kids to Colorado every few weeks, not spend every holiday with them? I love them. I'd miss them too much. That's when it all starts to sound not so bad," he spoke, mugs resting on the table again, his hands still absorbing all the heat. A little grin appeared on his lips the more he thought about them.

"My kids are my whole world. I wouldn't want anything else if it meant I wouldn't have my kids anymore, you know? But man, sometimes I do wish I had a little bit of help. No one prepares you for having a whole farm-sized family and only you to take care of them." A little laugh fell from his lips at his own analogy. He always referred to his big family as a 'farm,' but saying it to Gen just made him giggle again.

Gen’s expression softened at the sound of her friend's words, the woman's heart tugging with an ache of familiarity. “Yeah… I get that. My father lives in New York, so when Cam was still living there, the two of us would fly out when she had time off from school, and sometimes he would keep her for a few weeks before bringing her back to Briar Ridge. It was good for them, and I wanted her to have that relationship, but God was it hard to be away from her for more than a day or two.” Her voice faltered for just a second, the memory still bringing up hard feelings. “The silence in the house was deafening. I thought I’d enjoy the time to myself, and I still do.. But in small doses.”

A small chuckle floated out from between the woman's lips, just knowing that Kit would relate to everything she was telling him. Being a single parent only seemed to worsen the separation anxiety. “I used to start doubting everything—my parenting, my decisions, my ability to be enough on my own. I didn’t have anyone to tag in when I was tired or second-guessing myself. Even now, with Cameron back, those years left a mark. You get used to being everything all at once for someone: the playmate, the chauffeur, the therapist, the bedtime story narrator. And yeah, sometimes I crave just one damn day where no one says ‘Mom’ before I’ve had coffee. But even at my most exhausted, I wouldn’t trade away any of it. She’s my best friend, and she’s the one person who reminds me who I am, even when I forget.”

Leyla tipped her head back, laughing as the water reached her waist. She twisted around, walking backwards now with her arms out, hair already sticking to her shoulders. "Me? Girl, what are you even talking about?" Leyla's brows shot up, playful disbelief dancing across her face. "Have you even seen yourself? You're out here looking like a whole Sports Illustrated cover. Don't even." She grinned, shaking her head, water flicking from her hair. As Gen came closer, the joy in her face slipped into something of a softer smile, her eyes dropping briefly before looking back over at her, blinking against the bright blue sky. The last time they'd talked properly felt like a lifetime ago, the shadow of Cameron's name still hanging somewhere between them, unspoken but very much there. "How have you been, by the way? I know we haven't really caught up in a minute.." She hesitated, like she might say more, then just held Genesis’s gaze, letting the sound of the waves fill the silence while she waited, ready to listen if Gen needed her to.

Genesis let out a breath somewhere between a laugh and a sigh as the water cooled her skin. “Honestly? It’s been chaos,” she admitted, wading in closer until the water hugged her hips. “Apartment hunting nearly broke me. Juliana and I toured like eight places before finding one that checked most of our boxes. The move was a disaster too. Our movers were late, I somehow lost every single one of our forks, and Juliana had a meltdown because I lost track of her nightlight somewhere between the boxes.” A soft smile tugged at her lips, though her voice was edged with fatigue.

Gently, Genesis combed the wet ringlets away from her face, eyes squinting against the sunlight as she gazed over at Leyla. “Other than that, it’s been all the usual mom stuff and admittedly, a few personal roadblocks I didn't expect to pop up. I’ve been trying to remain calm and collected for Juliana’s sake, but it’s definitely felt like I’m treading water just to stay afloat.” Between the move, typical family chaos and everything that had happened between her and Alex, Genesis had been feeling rather overwhelmed and unprepared. Sure, this was what she had always wanted. But it had all come at a cost. “I’m tired, but I’m getting there. How about you? Has Billie been keeping you busy?”

It took a moment, but when the words "I told him" came out of his sister's mouth, Sebastian froze. The context didn't register immediately, but then she continued and mentioned Alex, and Sebastian understood right away. He felt his shoulders slump, and he exhaled sharply, realizing just how much Genesis had been carrying all this time.

They weren't the type of siblings who needed to talk things through to fully understand the gravity of most situations. Sebastian clearly remembers where he was when he learned about Genesis' pregnancy with her father's student, Alex, who was better known as her first love. It was the first time he had seen Genesis so distraught and broken, trapped in a situation where no one was allowed to intervene. He recalls his mother and stepfather discussing it endlessly, and it seemed that the only thing that truly helped was simply being there for her. Although he felt helpless at the time, it had been so long since he last thought about Genesis' firstborn.

When her voice cracked, Sebastian felt an instinctive urge to move next to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder as he listened. At first, he wasn't sure what to say. It seemed that the revelation about her child with Alex had surfaced unexpectedly, which might have led to a less-than-ideal response from him. He furrowed his brows and reached out to hold her hand, gently rubbing the top of it with his thumb to comfort her.

"I'm sorry it didn't go the way you expected," he began, searching her eyes. "But I'm really glad you were finally able to tell him. You must feel relieved," he added gently. Sebastian can't even imagine bearing the weight of that for as long as she did. After a beat, he releases his hold, turning to face her fully. "Have you talked to him since?"

Genesis held onto Sebastian’s hand a little tighter, her thumb brushing absently over his as she allowed the silence to fill in the cracks her voice couldn’t. “It’s been quiet since,” she admitted softly. “He hasn’t reached out, and I haven’t pushed. I think he needed space to process it all. And honestly, I get that. I dropped something life-altering on him, and I don’t think I expected some immediate resolution. But the silence… It still stings.”

Her lips curved into a small, rueful smile as she spoke. “I keep trying to tell myself this isn’t about me. He deserves time to sit with it and figure out what this means for him. I lived with this truth for seventeen years, he’s only had a couple of months. And even though every part of me wants to know what he’s thinking, how he’s feeling… I don’t want to force anything. He has to come to me on his own, when he’s ready.”

Her gaze drifted toward the window, a flicker of hope tugging at her features despite the uncertainty in her chest. “It wasn’t just about telling him. It was about finally letting myself acknowledge that he deserved to know. That our son existed. That what we had mattered. And even if I don’t hear from him right away—even if I never do—I don’t regret saying it. I just hope one day, he’ll be ready to talk. And if that day comes, I’ll be here.”

Shaking her head, Jiya tried to think of how to explain who she was without sounding like a crazy person, jealous ex or just a plain creep. "No, we've never met, I just know of you.." She paused, still not entirely sure what to say. "Through Alex, because of Alex. Alex Caldwell." It was like her mind was screaming at her to just a form a complete, cohesive sentence. "Sorry, I'm not usually like this." Taking a deep breath, Jiya found that place inside and steeled herself. "Alex and I were married, my name is Jiya. He told me about you and I recognised your name, too much of a coincidence considering you're in this town and your name."

Genesis blinked as her mind began to catch up with the other woman's words. While she had known that her ex was previously married, never had she imagined she'd be standing face-to-face with the woman Alex had once shared a life with. Let alone have coincidentally approached her in the paint aisle of a hardware store. Her stomach twisted—not out of anger or discomfort, but the sheer unexpectedness of it all. “Oh wow. Yeah, I mean… that’s me!”

Giving a soft, almost sheepish laugh, Gen's eyes flickered back toward the row of paint swatches before landing back on Jiya. “I didn’t know he’d talked about me. I mean, I know we were young. But I guess first loves really do stick with you.” The moment was definitely awkward and she was sure the other woman could hear the hesitation in her voice. “It’s just crazy to think that he carried any of that into his marriage. But you must have a good memory if you remember my name. Are you here in Briar Ridge to see him? I'll tell you, it feels super weird seeing each other around town after all these years. I never took him as the type to want to leave New York.”

She understood the decision to live in ignorance and she couldn't blame her for finding a certain level of comfort in that. "I don't think there's a right or wrong answer here. There's a chance he might come find you and I guess it depends on what you want to tell him." Would she be able to live with herself and admit she'd never looked because she was afraid? Or would it be easier to say she tried, even if it meant she failed.

"He deserves something real." She believed that wholeheartedly but she had to decide if she could be that. And if not, if she could be the one to walk away first. It was the only option if she didn't want to be the one left heartbroken when he finally decided he was moving on. "I know, you're right. I don't want to hurt him, Gen. I'll do everything in my power not to hurt him and I will tell him the truth." At some point, she was just too selfish to do it today, or tomorrow, because she wanted to live in their little bubble for a little while longer. "I promise I'll do it. Soon."

Admittedly, it felt weird to talk about her son. Not because she was ashamed, but because she had spent so many years trying to forget her own trauma, convincing herself that she would never have the opportunity to know him or even tell his father. "I'm not sure, honestly. He was in so much shock. But if he feels anything close to the way I do, he probably does. I think I'm just nervous. I don't want to look for him if he doesn't want to be found. Hell, I'm not even sure I have a right to want to know him."

Gen's answer was sad, but it was honest. Filled with all of her deepest thoughts and insecurities. Like Cassia, she had to face the music and be brave, but it was difficult when others emotions were involved. "Good. That's all I ask. I'm proud of you."

With a warm smile, Genesis pushed herself up from her seat and tangled her arms around the other woman's body. While she was no longer her future sister in-law, Cassia would always be a friend. "I'd better run, but it was good catching up. Don't be a stranger okay? You can reach out if you ever need anything or come see me at the salon."

"Not saying I don't want my kids, of course, but I would've wanted them with someone else," he adds with a little shrug. His thumb is idly skimming the rim of his mug, and he can feel the heat move from the pad of his finger all the way up his arm. Or maybe that's rage. Who knows.

"Forgive me if this is too forward but I don't think I've ever asked you what the deal is, or was, with Juliana's dad? Does she see him?"

As difficult as it was to look back on the past, Genesis struggled to say she'd do things any differently. Sure, her marriage hadn't worked out the way she'd planned, but she didn't regret Cameron or the life they had built together. For Kit, though, she was sure things felt a little different.

Shaking her head, the woman took a small sip before responding. "Not too forward at all. We're friends, so I'm happy to share. Cameron is still a big part of Juliana's life and I'm super grateful for all that he does. At first, co-parenting was a bit of a struggle because he moved back to New York for a few years. It took a big toll on her and I think he could see that. But ever since he's been back in Briar Ridge, things have been great. It is difficult sometimes and I do often wonder where we'd be if things had gone differently, but I'm lucky to have a healthy relationship with him and I don't take that for granted because I know most people aren't so lucky."

"Jiya." Smiling, at the woman, Jiya tried to shake off the feeling of recognition that ran through her at the name. She knew barely anyone in town and she was good with faces, but the one in front of one her wasn't one she recognised. "Well I'm happy to help. I'm pretty sure you'd have had a headache from the wall colour with the other one before you even finished."

Glancing over her shoulder at the bulbs, Jiya gently shook her head. "Thank you, but no, I didn't actually realise that light fittings aren't a one size fits all type thing and I have no idea which ones I need to buy." It was only then and she had no idea why, that the recognition flashed up like a red flashing light in her brain. "Sorry, did you say your name was Genesis?" Jiya had never been to Briar Ridge before she came down to see Alex, but she had heard about it through him and all about the girl he had dated down here. "Genesis Ortiz?"

At the sound of her own surname, Genesis raised her brows, a flicker of confusion notable in the woman's features. “Yeah… that’s me,” she answered slowly, her tone still warm, but laced with a mild curiosity. She was sure she would’ve remembered meeting someone as striking as Jiya, though between dozens of clients, hair shows and conferences, she truly could have known the woman from a number of places. “Have we met before?”

Genesis gave a sheepish smile, always embarrassed to be the one with a poor memory. But no matter how hard she tried, neither the woman's face nor her name were ringing any bells. "I'm sorry, I work at a salon, so I'm always meeting new people. Not to mention, you know what they say about mom brain!"

Elena pulled off her helmet as the engine cut, the soft click of her boot against the driveway breaking the quiet hum of the afternoon. She hooked the helmet onto the back of the bike and glanced up toward the house — familiar in shape, if not in memory. She hadn’t been here in years. Maybe once in college, when Gen dragged her home over a long weekend, promising decent food and no questions asked.

The place looked warm, lived in. Unapologetically itself.

She adjusted the cuff of her worn leather jacket, fingers brushing over the smooth seams before smoothing down her dark jeans. Her boots thudded softly on the pavement as she slung the small gift bag higher onto her shoulder and made her way around the side of the house.

Voices carried from the backyard — string lights mid-hanging, boxes half-open, Gen on a step stool, and—

Seb.

Elena slowed.

He was holding a tangled strand of lights in one hand and laughing at something Gen said, the two of them comfortably tucked into each other’s rhythm in the way people were when they’d done this a hundred times before. Elena stayed quiet for a half-second too long, reading the scene — the closeness, the ease — and let instinct fill in the blanks.

“Oh,” she said lightly, a polite note threading through as she stepped into view. “I didn’t realize I was crashing a… domestic moment.”

The corners of her mouth curved into something dry but good-natured as she lifted the gift bag. “I come bearing presents, if that buys me forgiveness.”

She glanced between them once more, as if cataloguing a detail she hadn’t known to look for. Whatever this was — she could roll with it. Probably.

“Almost done…” he said softly, tugging at what he thought was the last chord to free the tangled string lights. However, he quickly realized he had only made the mess slightly worse. Just then, he felt a tug at the other end of the line. Sebastian lifted his head to see Genesis walking toward her designated spot, causing him to tilt slightly off the wooden chair beneath him.

“Wait!” Sebastian yelled, worry evident in his voice. “I haven’t untangled it yet!” He glanced down to finish untying the knot and, after a few moments, stretched the string they both held. He waved the string lights with a sigh of relief. “There we go! I almost ended up decapitated,” he said, knitting his brows, fully aware of his dramatics.

Sebastian's laughter had died down somewhat, interrupted by the sound of footsteps and a voice that caught his attention. As he turned to look, he was instantly struck by the sight of a woman who prompted him to come down from the chair in a gesture of decorum. It took a moment for Sebastian to recognize her, but there was no doubt that the woman standing before them was Elena. He immediately glanced at his sister, seeking an answer in her expression as to how they knew each other.

The siblings had only just finished hanging the final strand of lights when Genesis heard the sound of a familiar voice — warm and cheerful, with a lilt of humour that always made her smile. Turning toward the driveway, the woman's hands were still mid-air as she spotted Elena walking toward them. “Hey!” Genesis called out, just as delighted as she was surprised. “You made it!” The light breeze caught the hem of her sundress as she hurried over to greet her friend, stepping past the boxes of decorations to close the gap between them.

“First of all, definitely not a domestic moment,” she clarified, the corners of her mouth tugging into a smirk as she released a quiet chuckle. “He is not my boyfriend.” Taking a step backward, Genesis gestured to either person as she introduced them. “Sebastian, this is Elena. We've been friends since we were kids. And Elena, this is Sebastian. He’s my step brother from New York. He moved here a couple of months ago.”

As she studied each of their expressions, Genesis couldn't help but feel like there had been a moment of recognition in her brother's eyes. Or perhaps it was one of awe, recalling just how many men had once drooled over her friend back in high school. “Lena, why don't you come inside and I’ll grab you a drink.”

He rubbed his hands together slowly, grounding himself before speaking, his voice low and earnest.

“Gen…” He let out a breath, eyes flicking up to meet hers. “I think part of me always was always scared of what it would feel like. Seeing you with someone else. And knowing that someday, we’d both eventually try to move on.” His lips pressed into a thin line for a moment before continuing. “But actually being in it? It’s so much harder than I thought it’d be.”

His fingers tapped an uneven rhythm against his knee. “You were my best friend too. And for a long time, you were my safe place, my home. Letting go of that version of us has been... harder than I’ve admitted to anyone. Even myself. I’m still struggling to actually do it.”

He exhaled quietly, forcing a small, wry smile. “And I know exactly what you mean about comparisons. I’ve done it too, probably more than I should. Because no one really knows me the way you do. No one has that history. And when you’ve shared as much life as we have, it’s not something you can just shut off. Seeing you with that guy at New Year’s, it felt like a bucket of ice water being dumped on me, reminding me of how much work I still have to do.” 

His gaze softened. “I’m sorry if any of this made things harder for you, even unintentionally. I never wanted to make anything messier than it already is. But I’m really grateful you told me all that. Because… yeah, this doesn’t come with a map. We’re figuring it out as we go.”

He paused, taking a breath. “But I do want us to keep figuring it out, Gen. For Juliana. For us. I want us to keep being honest. Even when it’s messy. Even when it’s hard.”

As Cameron spoke, Genesis found it difficult to hold herself together, her heart aching with every word the man spoke. It was strange how even now, years after their marriage had ended, he could still speak her language without even trying. The man's words didn’t just land, they resonated. She knew that all-too-familiar feeling of wanting to move forward, but getting caught up in the undertow of what used to be. And hearing him say it out loud—that it was hard for him too—somehow made her feel all the more understood.

Glancing down at the table for a moment, the woman's eyes stung with emotions she hadn’t planned on unpacking today. “I think sometimes people assume that because we split, it must’ve meant we stopped loving each other. But that was never it,” she admitted quietly, Gen's voice hitching ever so slightly. “We just… forgot how to show it the right way. Or maybe life just pulled us in too many directions, and we didn’t know how to fight our way back. But I never stopped caring about you. You were my home too, Cam.”

There was a long pause as she gathered herself. “We were young when we started building a life together. And somehow, despite all of our mistakes, we still managed to build something beautiful together. Juliana is proof of that. She’s all the best parts of us both.” A soft, broken laugh escaped her lips and Genesis tucked a strand of long brown hair behind her ear. “Despite everything that didn’t last, we've never let that girl feel unloved. That what matters."

Without saying another word, Genesis pushed her chair back and stood slowly. There may have been a few tears in her eyes, but she didn't allow herself to fall apart. Not this time. Then, rounding the table to stand near his side, the woman wrapped her arms around Cameron's shoulders in a hug that was warm and full. Quiet with gratitude and the weight of all the words they hadn’t said until now. Their love was still strong, even if it was shaped a little differently. “Thank you,” she whispered,“for hearing me.”

Leyla kicked off her slides and let them land wherever, already peeling off her tank top without breaking stride. The sand was hot beneath her feet, the water looked decent, and she hadn't had a good, dramatic swim in way too long. She paused long enough to side-eye whoever was closest, squinting against the sun like she was weighing whether or not to drag them in with her. "This is either healing or self-sabotage. We'll know in about ten minutes." She marched toward the water like it owed her money, pausing only to glance over her shoulder with raised brows, curious. "You gonna continue standing there looking pretty, or are you coming in?" Then she turned and walked straight into the water like she belonged there — hips swaying, zero hesitation, already half-smiling at whatever chaos she planned to start next.

Despite the million things on her to-do list, a beach day seemed like the perfect excuse to get out of the house and soak up some much-needed vitamin d. While Genesis was used to seeing Leyla at Everything Goes, it had been months since the friends had made any formal plans and the invite had come as a welcome but unexpected surprise.

Pushing herself up from where she'd been lounging, Genesis dusted the sand off her skin and followed Leyla towards the water. That first dip was always the hardest part, but luckily for them both, the sun was shining and the water felt warm as it splashed at her feet. "I'm coming, I'm coming! Jeez, it's clear which one of us has been working on their bikini body. I don't know how you manage to look that good after childbirth, but you need to teach me your secrets!"