A home stands where his used to be. A new build, modern rustic timber, warm cedar siding, smoke curling gently from the chimney.
“What… what is that?” I ask quietly.
Axel follows my gaze. “My family rebuilt.”
My stomach drops. “I didn’t know.”
“You wouldn’t have,” he says. “You left right after… everything.”
His words aren’t accusatory. If anything, they’re soft. Too soft. Like he’s afraid of hurting me again.
I swallow. “It looks beautiful.”
He doesn’t answer for a moment. Then?—
“We bought the land next door too.”
My breath catches. “What?”
He glances at me. “Your house. After the fire, no one knew what was happening with the property. It was condemned. Tied up in court for a while. Eventually it went up for sale.”
Pieces click together slowly, painfully.
“You bought it?” I whisper.
He nods. “Yeah.”
I blink through the sting in my eyes. “Why?”
He looks back at the rubble. His voice drops into something so raw it nearly buckles my knees.
“Because I couldn’t stand the thought of it going to someone else. Someone who didn’t understand what this place meant. Someone who didn’t know what happened here. Someone who didn’t… remember.”
My throat closes.
Snowflakes drift silently between us, settling in my hair. Axel watches them fall like they’re something sacred.
“We didn’t rebuild it,” he adds softly. “Didn’t want to. Some places shouldn’t be forced back to life.”
I nod, barely holding myself together.
Instead of rebuilding, they created greenspace—soft hills, frost-covered grass, wild pines along the river, open sky where a roof once stood. It’s heartbreakingly beautiful.
And he preserved it for me.
I can’t stop the tears now. One escapes, rolling hot and humiliating down my cheek. I swipe it quickly.
“Savannah…” he murmurs.
His voice is so gentle it almost undoes me.
I shake my head. “Don’t. I’m fine.”
“You’re crying.”
“So?” I snap. “It’s allowed.”
A beat. Then—almost a smile. Not full. But close. “Yeah. It is.”
