Chapter 10 - The Garden of Life
The sun was beginning to set over the Maui coast, painting the sky in brilliant hues of orange, pink, and deep violet. The air had cooled, carrying the gentle rustle of palm trees and the rhythmic, calming sound of the waves crashing against the cliffs below.
The entire household had gathered on the wide stone terrace behind the villa—a terrace that had been built to look exactly like the one in La Jolla, but without the hidden cameras, without the tinted bulletproof glass, and without the armed guards hiding in the shadows.
Noah sat on the stone wall, strumming an acoustic guitar Adrian had bought him, playing a simple, upbeat melody he had learned online. Emma stood nearby, holding a glass of white wine, a peaceful smile on her face as she watched the center of the lawn.
Lily stood in the middle of the grass, wearing her favorite two-dollar thrift store San Diego Padres jersey—which she had refused to throw away, despite Adrian buying her a whole closet of new clothes. Beside her stood Adrian Cross.
"Okay," Lily said, taking her role as instructor very seriously. "First, you have to make your feet feel like they're full of helium. Like balloons. If they feel like rocks, you're doing it wrong."
"Helium. Got it," Adrian said, his hands on his hips, his posture relaxed.
"Then," Lily continued, demonstrating a sudden, ridiculous hop to the left, followed by a clumsy spin that ended with her sticking her tongue out. "You do the helicopter spin! But you have to make the sound effect or it doesn't work. Like whirrr-whirrr-whirrr!"
Adrian let out a deep, booming laugh—a sound that the walls of his old mansion hadn't heard in nearly a decade. He followed her lead, taking a large, deliberate hop to the left, spinning around with an intentional clumsiness that made Noah stop playing the guitar to laugh out loud.
"Not bad!" Lily cheered, clapping her small hands. "Now the final part! The movie star faint!"
She threw her hands over her head, let out a dramatic gasp, and collapsed safely onto the soft Hawaiian grass, her hazel-gold eyes sparkling up at the evening sky.
Adrian looked down at her, his heart full of a profound, unshakeable peace. He didn't faint onto the grass. Instead, he walked over, knelt down beside her, and scooped her up into his arms, lifting her high into the air as he stood back up.
Lily squealed with laughter, her arms wrapping around his neck.
Emma walked over, her eyes shining with happiness, and wrapped her arms around Adrian's waist from behind, pressing her face against his back. Noah walked over too, putting a hand on Adrian's shoulder, completion wrapping around the small group like a protective shield.
Ninety-nine doctors had examined Adrian Cross and told him there was no path back. They had looked at his spine, his nerves, and his medical charts, and they had declared him broken. But they had forgotten to look at his heart. They hadn't known that the ultimate cure for an empire of grief wasn't a surgery or a miracle drug.
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It was the innocent, impossible love of a poor maid’s daughter, who saw a lonely man in a beautiful garden, and decided to dance.
The Wolf of the West Coast was gone. In his place stood a father, a husband, and a protector, standing tall in his own garden of life, watching the sun dip beneath the ocean as the music played on into the perfect, unblemished night.
