Epilogue: Six Months Later
(One month after the trial of Bennett Blacklock and Robin Takenaka)
The road ahead wavers in the summer heat. August in California is stifling, the humidity turning the air syrupy, even as the AC makes a valiant effort to keep me from melting. Perhaps the only thing I miss about living in England; being able to function during the summer months.
The long drive to Monterey from Los Angeles takes the best part of a day, but Phoenix and I have decided to pace ourselves and enjoy the journey. We left at dawn and took the coastal route, stopping to stretch our legs, take photographs, and once (at Phoenix's suggestion), to make out.
From the passenger seat, Phoenix keeps up a steady stream of chatter about nothing much in particular, conversation coming easier to him than it ever has for me. And I listen, for the most part, sometimes just letting his voice wash over me. He doesn't seem to mind either way.
"I mean, don't get me wrong, My Cousin Vinny is a classic, and Marissa Tomei's a treasure, but you can't go wrong with- oh shit, I think we were supposed to turn down that road." He goes quiet and fumbles with his phone, brow knit in concentration. Then the tension leeches out of him - it's too hot to get worked up over a missed turnoff anyway - and slumps in his seat. "Never mind, we'll take the next one."
The anxiety he's been carrying on his shoulders since the Hannya Four trial is easing now. Though I can't say the same for the guilt I feel for not noticing that it was getting so bad, not until I was so close to losing him. Whenever he starts to worry I can't help but hold my breath, poised to catch him if he needs it. I let that breath out now, slowly.
"Hey," Phoenix pokes me in the side, bringing me back to the present. "We're on vacation, remember? You're not allowed to make that face." Right. Good vibes only, as Maya Fey would say. "Especially not at Mom's place."
And there it is; the nervous flutter in my stomach that catches me off-guard when I think about our destination. The closer we get to Monterey, the more persistent it becomes.
"Remind me," I say, fingers tightening on the steering wheel. "How many people will be there?"
"Let's see…" Phoenix begins to count off on his fingers. "Mom, obviously, and my stepdad. Then there's Dad, his partner Ava, Uncle Robbie and Auntie Keiko, my cousins Violet and Junji, oh, and Hershey."
"Wait, Hershey?" I stare at him in alarm. "You haven't mentioned that name before."
"Oh yeah, Hershey, can't believe I forgot about him." Phoenix's smile turns crooked. "It's okay, Miles. Hershey is Mom's labradoodle." Smart arse. If I wasn't driving, I'd kiss that mischievous look off his face. A moment later I hear him stretching out, catlike, and risk another glance sideways. I'm rewarded with a glimpse of his midriff as his t-shirt rides up. On second thought, maybe I really ought to concentrate on the road.
"Anyway," he continues, oblivious. "That's like, the diet cola version of the Wright Family experience. The grandfolks are off on some stargazing hike in the middle of Arizona."
'Diet cola' version or no, I'm not sure how I'll fare over the weekend. When Phoenix first invited me to come and meet his family, I'd envisioned dinner with his parents. Two days spent in the midst of a Wright clan gathering is… quite a step up from that. Even now, I feel a twinge of regret that I won't be able to do the same for Phoenix; my remaining family are scattered across two continents, largely indifferent to my existence. Except for Franziska, I suppose, but the thought of her and Phoenix in the same room is enough to make me break out in a cold sweat.
Our turnoff is up ahead. Phoenix has forgotten about it already, of course, gazing out of the window at the rugged coastline. For a split second I'm gripped by the urge to simply carry on driving, straight through Monterey and up the coast. I bet San Francisco is lovely this time of year. But no, tempting as it is, I wouldn't rob Phoenix of the chance to see his family after so long. I get him all to myself the rest of the year.
I turn onto the side road, and a moment later I feel the unmistakable warmth of Phoenix's hand on my knee.
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I've stared down hundreds of hardened criminals, survived years of gaslighting from my mentor, and been harassed by journalists. A mail bomb was sent to my office once, which was honestly more inconvenient than frightening. But at this instant, none of that compares to the prospect of stepping inside the lovely old house standing before me. The early evening sun is shining through the trees that line the driveway, painting dappled patterns on the ground below. The front door is wedged invitingly open. It couldn't be any more picturesque, and… I realize I'm stalling for time. Suddenly everything about me feels wrong, standing in this place. I'm dressed too casually. The gifts I brought for Yumiko and her husband are nowhere near enough.
This is ridiculous. I'm ridiculous; it took an eight-hour drive to get here, and of course I want to meet the people who raised the man I love. But… what if they take one look at me and wonder what Phoenix sees in me? What if I come across as rude? What if they hear the way I talk and decide I don't belong?
What if I'm simply not good enough?
I reach the porch, and suddenly I can't take another step, my feet rooted to the spot. When Phoenix notices I'm no longer beside him he turns back, confused.
"You coming?" I bite my lip, and a stupid smile spreads across his gorgeous face. "Miles Edgeworth, you're not nervous, are you?"
"Don't be absurd," I scoff. Then, in a smaller voice, "...should I be?" He laughs, a sound I'll never grow tired of, and returns to my side to entwine his fingers with mine.
"Miles. Babe." I hate pet names and he knows it, but for once I'm too preoccupied to complain. "They're gonna love you," he says, bringing our hands up to plant a kiss on my knuckle. "Almost as much as I do. I promise. In fact," he adds, visibly bracing himself, "Knowing my family, I can tell you how this is gonna go. They'll be absolutely smitten with you. Auntie Keiko will try to adopt you, my cousins will dredge up embarrassing stories about me, and later Mom will demand a piano recital even though I haven't played in ages…" he grimaces, his steps faltering. "You know what? If you want to go, we can go."
Well, let's not be too hasty, here. "Embarrassing stories, you say?"
"Mhm…" Phoenix leans in closer as if imparting something secret. "If you're really lucky, Dad might show you my seventh-grade yearbook photo he keeps in his wallet."
"That bad?"
"Absolutely hideous."
"Sounds like an offer too good to refuse."
"Hey!" A voice interrupts us from above. We crane our necks, shielding our eyes from the sun, to see a young woman practically hanging out of an upstairs window. She waves frantically at us. "Elle Woods! Quit being sappy and get your butt in here!" She withdraws, reappearing momentarily to add, "And bring your cute boyfriend with you!"
"Violet…" Phoenix growls.
"...What did she just call you?" Beside me, he's turned a rather impressive shade of puce.
"Nothing," he says in a strangled voice. "But heads up; I may well murder one or more of my cousins before the weekend is over. Just so you know."
"I hope you know a good attorney."
"Temporary insanity. Even the Murder Hornet wouldn't convict me."
"I think you may be underestimating how much she dislikes you."
"Well then, will you visit me in prison?"
"Every day."
Phoenix chuckles and snakes his arms around my neck, pulling me in for a deep kiss. We're still standing right there by the porch, and I half expect more yelling from the upstairs window, but how can I resist?
"Is the prosecution ready?" he whispers, smiling against my lips even as my grip tightens on his waist. This is it - I can't stall any longer.
"...I'm ready." As I'll ever be, at least. We pull apart, but his hand finds mine and gives it a reassuring squeeze. The two of us have made it this far, and if he believes in me enough to bring me all the way out here, to meet the people who brought him into the world, then I can believe in him, too. And as for what comes next, well… we'll face it together.
I take a fortifying breath, and step across the threshold.
