We Are Going Home
Remi’s POV
Change of plans. I regretted it the next day.
Yeah, I hadn’t had sex in a long time, and I fell for just a little touch.
The horniness. The orgasm. Of them. It went straight to my head.
Now, in the bright light of morning, with the cold air creeping into the cave and my body still sore in places I did not want to acknowledge, reality crashed down on me like a landslide.
I had sex with Rowan.
Rowan Vaughn.
My ex-husband.
I groaned into my hands, my brain short-circuiting with every attempt to make sense of my life choices.
This was bad.
This was so bad.
Because I knew myself. I knew how dangerous it was to let him in—to let him touch me, to let him kiss me, to let him matter again.
And yet, I had fallen right back into him, like no time had passed at all.
I needed distance.
So I did what any self-respecting woman would do after a night of questionable decisions.
I avoided him.
—
Rowan noticed.
Of course he noticed.
I kept my back turned as I gathered what little supplies we had left, making a show of being busy.
“You’re quiet,” he finally said, his voice careful.
I shrugged. “Just tired.”
He didn’t buy it.
I felt him watching me, his gaze heavy, his presence impossible to ignore.
“Remi,” he tried again, this time stepping closer.
I stiffened. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
I exhaled sharply, forcing myself to keep moving. “Don’t make this into something it’s not.”
A beat of silence.
Then—
“You were the one moaning my name last night, sweetheart.”
I whipped around, ready to murder him right then and there. “Excuse me?”
He smirked.
Like the smug, irritating man that he was.
I wanted to wipe that look off his face.
With a punch.
Or maybe with another kiss.
No. Bad thoughts.
I inhaled deeply. “That was a mistake.”
Rowan tilted his head, his smirk fading slightly. “You really believe that?”
I held my ground. “Yes.”
His jaw clenched, but he nodded once, slow and understanding. “Alright.”
I blinked. “Alright?”
He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “I’m not going to force you to talk about it if you don’t want to. But I am going to make sure we get out of here alive.”
And just like that, he dropped it.
No arguments. No pushing.
He just let it be.
And somehow, that made me feel worse.
—
We left the cave soon after, heading toward the clearing where we’d set up our SOS.
The air was crisp as usual, on a normal day I would have enjoyed this island in the middle of nowhere, the morning sun fighting through the heavy clouds. Rowan walked beside me, his steps steady, his body no longer as weak as before.
I hated how normal this felt.
Like we weren’t stranded in the middle of nowhere.
Like we hadn’t just had mind-numbing sex the night before.
Like he hadn’t once been the man who broke me.
I stole a glance at him.
He was different now.
Still sharp. Still confident. But different.
Like his edges had softened.
Like maybe the amnesia had wiped away the worst of him, leaving behind someone I didn’t know how to hate anymore.
Damn it.
I looked away.
“Do you hear that?” Rowan suddenly asked.
I frowned. “What?”
Then I heard it.
A low, distant rumble.
Not thunder.
Not wind.
I froze.
My head snapped up, my heart racing.
And then I saw it.
A shadow in the sky.
Getting closer.
Louder.
An airplane.
My breath caught.
“Rowan!”
He was already moving, grabbing the metal scraps we had used for our SOS signal, lifting them high.
“Over here!” I screamed, waving my arms. “We’re here!”
The plane circled once.
Then again.
And then—
A bright flare shot out from its side, signaling that they had seen us.
I let out a choked breath, my knees nearly giving out.
Rowan grabbed me before I could collapse, his hands firm on my arms.
“We’re going home,” he murmured.
*****
Cameras everywhere.
Flashes went off in rapid succession, reporters shouting questions the moment we stepped off the rescue plane.
“The only survivors of an unknown island!”
“A new landmass discovered!”
“How did you survive?”
“What happened to the plane?”
“Mr. Vaughn, do you think this was an assassination attempt?”
I clenched my jaw, gripping the thin hospital blanket around my shoulders. The chaos outside the hospital doors was overwhelming. Dozens of people were gathered—news anchors, medical teams, government officials, everyone trying to get a piece of the story.
Rowan barely reacted, standing beside me with his usual composed expression. Meanwhile, I was barely keeping it together.
I don’t care about any of this.
All I wanted—all I could think about—were my kids.
I forced myself to stay calm as the doctors ran their final checks. My injuries were minimal. A few cracked ribs, some bruises, dehydration—but compared to what could have happened?
I got lucky.
Rowan, despite taking the worst of the bear attack, had been stitched up and bandaged. The doctors and nurses kept looking at him like he was some kind of miracle.
Like I was some kind of miracle.
I heard the whispers.
“The famous Dr. Laurent survived this? Of course, she did.”
“If anyone could make it out alive, it’s her.”
“She probably saved him.”
Rowan, on the other hand, was getting an entirely different reaction.
“He’s just lucky.”
“The heir of the Vaughn family gets thrown into a disaster and comes out with just a few scars? Unbelievable.”
“Some people just have all the luck.”
I clenched my jaw.
Rowan wasn’t just lucky. He fought. He bled. And no one—no one—knew what we had to go through to make it back.
I stole a glance at him. He was calm, unaffected, but his jaw was tight.
He heard it, too.
I wanted to say something. Maybe even defend him.
But then—
A familiar voice.
“Mummy!”
My heart stopped.
I turned so fast I nearly knocked the IV stand over.
There they were.
Jo, standing near the hospital door, with Larry and Laura clinging to her hands.
My babies.
Their little faces—worried, teary, but full of relief the second they saw me.
A choked sob tore out of my throat as I rushed toward them.
“Mummy!” Laura cried, running at full speed.
Larry was right behind her, his little arms stretching out.
I dropped to my knees, gathering them both in a crushing hug, feeling their tiny hands clutching my clothes, their warm faces pressing against my neck.
My world. My entire world.
“You’re okay,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “You’re okay. I’m here.”
Laura sniffled against my shoulder. “We thought—you—Jo said—but—”
“I know, sweetheart. I know.”
Larry, normally the quieter of the two, suddenly squeezed me tighter. “I thought we lost you.”
Tears streamed down my face. “Never. I promise.”
Jo crouched beside us, her own eyes glassy. “They refused to sleep. Every time the news came on, they’d sit in front of the TV, waiting. Even when I told them everything would be fine.”
I ran my hands over their faces, their hair, taking in every inch of them.
“I missed you so much,” I whispered.
Laura wiped her tears, then pulled back slightly, looking at my bandaged arms. “Mummy… are you hurt?”
I forced a smile. “Just a little. Nothing to worry about.”
She sniffled again but nodded, trusting me.
Larry, however, wasn’t convinced. He looked over my shoulder—past me.
Right at Rowan.
Rowan, who was standing there. Watching. Silent.
I glanced back at him.
He didn’t say anything.
But something in his expression was different.
Soft.
Almost… longing.
Larry, to my complete surprise, let go of me, turned, and walked straight to Rowan.
Rowan stiffened.
I held my breath.
Larry stopped in front of him, looking up with those sharp, intelligent eyes.
“You saved Mummy,” he said.
Rowan blinked, caught off guard.
Then he exhaled. “She saved me, too.”
Larry studied him for a moment. Then, before I could process it—
He hugged Rowan.
A small, awkward hug.
Rowan froze.
I swear I saw panic in his eyes for half a second before his hands hesitantly—almost nervously—rested on Larry’s back.
Laura, never one to be left out, gasped. “Me too!”
And just like that, she threw herself at Rowan.
This time, he actually stumbled.
I clamped a hand over my mouth, watching as both my kids held onto him, their tiny arms wrapped around his waist.
Rowan was stiff at first. Like he had no idea what to do with two small children clinging to him.
Then, slowly—
His arms tightened around them.
Not forced. Not awkward.
But genuine.
My heart ached.
Jo, beside me, whispered, “Holy shit.”
I nodded.
Because yeah. Holy shit.
This was not what I expected.
At all.
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