Julian Sterling remained steadfast, his gaze unwavering. “He wanted to, Helen. But every time he reached out, you pushed him further away. You refused to see the man he became because you were too busy mourning the image of a son he never was.”

Helen’s friends were now inching away, their support evaporating in the face of this scandalous revelation. The shame of public humiliation was evident on her face. I almost felt a pang of pity for her—almost. But then I remembered the sting of her slap, the cruel accusations, and the years of condescension.

Julian approached me, his presence a balm to my raw, exposed nerves. “Bailey,” he said softly, offering a supportive hand. “I know this is overwhelming. Michael spoke about you often, and he entrusted me with ensuring you’re taken care of.”

I hesitated before accepting his hand, the warmth of his grip grounding me. “Thank you,” I managed to say, my voice still shaky.

He nodded, his expression one of genuine compassion. “You don’t have to face this alone. We can discuss everything afterwards, in a more private setting.”

The congregation began to stir, whispers filling the sacred space once more. Some were scandalized, others sympathetic. But none of it mattered now. What mattered was the truth, and the love Michael had for me—a love that transcended even the grave.

Julian escorted me toward the exit, his presence a shield against the prying eyes and whispers. As we passed Helen, she reached out as if to stop us, but Julian gently intercepted her hand. “This is neither the time nor place, Mrs. Morrison,” he said firmly.

Helen withdrew her hand, her eyes a mix of anger and defeat. “This isn’t over,” she hissed, her voice barely audible.

“Let it be,” Julian responded, his tone brooking no argument. “Holding onto anger will only harm you further.”

As we stepped outside into the sunlight, I inhaled deeply, the crisp air a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere inside. Julian stood beside me, allowing me a moment to absorb the cascade of revelations.

“Thank you,” I repeated, my voice gaining strength. “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

“Michael was my friend,” he replied simply. “And friends look out for each other. Besides, he wanted me to help you, and I promised I would.”

His sincerity was disarming. In a world that had shifted beneath my feet, his support was a lifeline. Though grief and uncertainty shadowed my heart, I knew I wasn’t alone. Michael’s love had forged unexpected alliances, granting me the strength to face the future.

Beside me, Julian stood like a sentinel, ready to guide me through the trials ahead. Together, we would honor Michael’s legacy, ensuring his memory was one of love, strength, and unyielding truth.