I nodded slowly, feeling something shift inside me. Not forgiveness. Not yet. But maybe the beginning of something like understanding. Like the possibility that someday, we might find our way back to each other.
"She's good for you," my father said, glancing back toward the house where Hazel waited. "Your girl. She's strong. Stubborn. Sees right through your bullshit."
Despite everything, I smiled. "Yeah. She does."
"Don't let her go."
"I won't." The certainty in my voice surprised me. "I'm going to marry her. Build a life with her. Figure out how to make that inn into something that's ours."
Pride flashed across his face, bright and unmistakable. "Good. That's good, son."
Son.
The word hit different now. Not like a weapon or a reminder of everything I'd lost. Just ... a fact. Simple and complicated and true.
We stood there in silence for a while, watching the harbor lights reflect off dark water, breathing the salt air, existing in the same space without needing to fill it with words.
Finally, I spoke. "Tell me something you remember. Something about me."
He considered that, gaze distant. When he spoke, his voice was soft.
"When you were eight, you climbed that big oak behind the house—the one I told you was too dangerous. You made it almost to the top before the branch cracked. I was there in seconds, but you'd already caught yourself on a lower branch. You looked down at me with this expression—not scared, not proud, just ... certain. Like you knew exactly who you were and what you could do. And I thought, 'That one's going to be fine. That one's got something inside him that won't break.'"
His eyes found mine. "I was right. You didn't break, Gideon. Even when I gave you every reason to. You bent. You adapted. You survived. And now you're building something beautiful. That's more than most men ever manage."
My throat was too tight to speak. I nodded instead, once, sharp.
"Go back to your girl," he said gently. "She needs you more than I do right now."
"What about you?"
"I'll be here." He smiled, sad but genuine. "I'm not going anywhere. Not this time."
I believed him. Or at least, I wanted to. And maybe that was enough for tonight.
I turned to go, then stopped. Looked back.
"Dad?"
He straightened at the word, hope flashing across his face.
"Thank you," I said. "For coming back. For tonight. For Sam Jarrow."
His eyes went bright. "Always, son. Always."
I left him there on the veranda, looking out at the water, and walked back inside to find Hazel.
She was still in the living room, now curled up with Vivienne and Lexi, laughing at something Portia had just said. When she saw me, her whole face lit up.
I crossed to her, pulled her to her feet, and kissed her like we had all the time in the world and I was still going to make every second count.
When we finally broke apart, she was smiling.
"Good talk?" she asked softly.
"Yeah," I said, surprised to find it was true. "Good talk."
"Ready to go home?"
