CHAPTER 17: Maya

POV: Selene Castellano

UCSF Medical Center had always felt like a liminal space to Selene.

Not quite hopeful, not quite hopeless. Just waiting. Endless waiting for results, for treatments, for doctors to tell you whether your sister would live or die.

But today felt different.

Today, Dr. Sarah Chen had called with news.

Selene sat in the waiting room, hands clasped tight enough to hurt, watching the door for Maya to emerge from her appointment. Avalon sat beside her—he’d insisted on coming, said something about wanting to meet the person he’d been fighting for all along.

“You’re nervous,” he observed.

“Of course I’m nervous.”

“The scans were good. Dr. Chen said the tumors are shrinking.”

“I know. But until I see Maya, until I know she’s really okay—”

The door opened.

Maya walked out, and Selene’s breath caught.

Her sister looked… healthy. Not the hollow-cheeked, exhausted version Selene had grown used to. But genuinely healthy. Color in her face. Light in her eyes.

Selene stood so fast she almost knocked over her chair.

“Lena,” Maya grinned, “you look like you’re about to pass out.”

“What did she say?”

“Remission.” Maya’s voice cracked on the word. “Partial remission. The tumors shrunk by sixty percent. Dr. Chen says if this continues, I could be cancer-free in six months.”

Selene’s legs gave out.

Avalon caught her, steadied her, his hand firm on her arm.

“Breathe,” he said quietly.

She did. Once. Twice.

Then she crossed to Maya and pulled her into a hug so tight her sister squeaked.

“I can’t breathe, Lena.”

“I don’t care. I’m never letting go.”

“You have to eventually. I need to meet your billionaire husband.”

Selene released her reluctantly, wiped her eyes, turned to find Avalon watching them with an expression she couldn’t quite read.

“Avalon,” she said, “this is Maya. Maya, Avalon.”

Maya stuck out her hand. “So you’re the guy who saved my life.”

Avalon shook her hand. “Dr. Chen saved your life. I just made a phone call.”

“Bullshit. Lena told me what you did. The money, the connections, getting me into the trial. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

“You also wouldn’t be here without your sister working three jobs for ten years to keep you alive.”

Maya glanced at Selene. “She tell you that?”

“She didn’t have to. I saw the bills.”

An understanding passed between them.

“Well,” Maya said, “since you married my sister for complicated reasons and saved my life in the process, I guess I have to like you.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Don’t get cocky. I’m still deciding if you’re good enough for her.”

Selene felt her face heat. “Maya—”

“What? Someone has to vet him properly. And you’re too busy being in love to do it objectively.”

“I’m not—we’re not—”

“Sure,” Maya said, smirking. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Avalon’s expression remained neutral, but Selene caught the slight quirk of his lips.

Traitor.

They took Maya to lunch at her favorite ramen place in Japantown.

Selene watched her sister demolish a bowl of tonkotsu ramen with the appetite of someone who’d been denied solid food for months. Which, technically, she had.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” Maya said between bites. “I’m going to eat ramen every day for the rest of my life.”

“You’ll get sick of it,” Selene said.

“Impossible. This is transcendent.” She pointed her chopsticks at Avalon. “So. You and my sister. What’s the deal?”

“Maya,” Selene warned.

“What? I’m curious. You get married in like, three weeks after not seeing each other for ten years. That’s a story.”

Avalon glanced at Selene, then back to Maya. “It’s complicated.”

“Everything with Lena is complicated. Be specific.”

“We knew each other in college,” Avalon said carefully. “Lost touch. Reconnected. Got married quickly because of… circumstances.”

“His grandmother’s will,” Selene added. “It required us to marry within thirty days.”

Maya’s eyes widened. “Wait, seriously? Like a romance novel?”

“More like a legal document.”

“Same thing.” Maya took another bite. “So are you actually together, or is this just paperwork?”

The question hung in the air.

Selene opened her mouth, unsure what to say.

“We’re figuring it out,” Avalon said finally.

Maya studied him for a long moment, then nodded. “Good answer. Honest. I respect that.”

“I’m glad I have your approval.”

“You don’t. Yet. But you’re working toward it.” She turned to Selene. “He’s better than the last guy you dated.”

“Maya—”

“What was his name? Trevor? Tim?”

“We’re not doing this.”

“Todd! It was Todd. Remember Todd? Boring accountant who talked about tax code at parties?”

Avalon’s lips twitched. “Tax code?”

“For hours,” Maya confirmed. “Lena dated him for six months out of pure stubbornness.”

“I was trying to be practical.”

“You were trying to date someone who wouldn’t hurt you. There’s a difference.” Maya pointed her chopsticks at Avalon again. “Don’t hurt her.”

The lightness left the conversation.

“I’m trying not to,” Avalon said quietly.

Maya held his gaze. Whatever she saw there seemed to satisfy her.

“Okay,” she said. “You can stay.”

“Generous of you.”

“I know. I’m very benevolent.” She finished her ramen, sat back with a satisfied sigh. “So. When’s the real wedding?”

Selene choked on her water. “What?”

“The real one. Because City Hall is fine for legal stuff, but you deserve an actual wedding. White dress, flowers, the whole thing.”

“We’re not—that’s not—”

“Why not?” Maya looked between them. “You’re married. You’re figuring it out. Eventually, you’ll want to celebrate that properly.”

“That’s a big assumption,” Selene said.

“Is it?” Maya’s expression softened. “Lena, I’ve watched you carry guilt and grief for ten years. And in the past month, I’ve watched you start to let it go. Whatever this is with Avalon, it’s changing you. In good ways.”

Selene felt tears burning.

“I’m not—”

“You are. You’re lighter. Less haunted. And yeah, it’s complicated and messy, but you’re trying. That counts for something.”

Avalon reached under the table, found Selene’s hand, squeezed gently.

The gesture wasn’t lost on Maya.

“See?” she said, smiling. “You’re already halfway there.”

They dropped Maya at her apartment—a small one-bedroom in the Mission that Selene had been helping pay for.

“I’ll be okay getting upstairs,” Maya said when Selene tried to follow.

“Let me help—”

“Lena. I’m in partial remission. I can handle stairs.” She hugged her sister tight. “Thank you. For everything. For the past ten years. For marrying a billionaire to save my life. For being the most stubborn, self-sacrificing person I know.”

“I didn’t marry him just for you.”

“I know. But you would have. That’s the point.” Maya pulled back, looked her in the eye. “Now stop sacrificing and start living. Okay?”

Selene nodded, not trusting her voice.

Maya turned to Avalon. “Take care of her. Or I’ll haunt you.”

“Noted.”

“I’m serious. I know people.”

“You know people?”

“Hospital people. They can make things very uncomfortable for you.”

Avalon smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Maya disappeared into her building.

Selene and Avalon sat in the car for a moment, neither speaking.

“She’s something,” Avalon said finally.

“She’s a pain in the ass.”

“She loves you.”

“I know.”

“And she’s right. You are lighter. Less haunted.”

Selene turned to look at him. “Is that a good thing?”

“Yes.” No hesitation.

They drove back to the penthouse in comfortable silence.

But when they arrived, Avalon didn’t immediately retreat to his wing.

“Want to watch something?” he asked. “I downloaded the new documentary everyone’s talking about. The one about deep sea exploration.”

It was such a normal question. So domestic.

“Sure,” Selene said.

They ended up on the couch, documentary playing on the massive screen, neither really watching.

“Maya was right about one thing,” Avalon said during a particularly slow segment about ocean currents.

“What’s that?”

“You deserve a real wedding. Eventually. If you want one.”

Selene’s breath caught. “Are you proposing?”

“No. I’m saying that what we have now—this marriage on paper—it’s not the whole story. And maybe someday, we’ll want to celebrate the actual story. The one we’re writing now.”

“And what story is that?”

Avalon turned to face her, his expression serious.

“Two people who lost each other finding their way back. Messy. Complicated. But real.”

“That’s a terrible wedding toast,” Selene said, smiling despite the tears in her eyes.

“I’ll workshop it.”

They sat in silence, the documentary forgotten.

And for the first time in ten years, Selene felt something she’d thought lost forever.

Hope.

Not the desperate, clinging hope that Maya would survive.

But the quiet, steady hope that maybe—just maybe—she and Avalon could build something worth keeping.

It was terrifying.

It was beautiful.

And it was theirs