She stayed frozen, hands clasped in front of her, posture braced for impact instead of surprise.
“Let me do this before I screw everything up.”I opened the box.
The silver key on a delicate chain shone under the lamplight.Real metal.Real lock.Real future.Confusion replaced whatever fear she’d braced for.
“I bought land.Outside town, fifteen minutes past the compound.Twenty acres.Woods, clearing, a creek along the back line.”The chain slid through my steadying fingers.“Enough room for a house.A real house.Not an apartment or a small home inside the compound.And enough sun for whatever gardens you’d like to plant.”
Silence locked her in place.No blink.No breath.No movement.
“I know we didn’t talk about this.Know it might feel fast.”Words rushed anyway.“But seeing you build those planters outside, watching you make this place beautiful…” I motioned roughly toward the patio she’d brought to life.“You deserve room to grow.A home that’s yours.Ours.”
“You bought land.”Her voice barely reached the air.“For me.”
“For us.”I stepped close enough to see her eyes fill.“No house yet.The key doesn’t unlock anything now.But the land is ours.We can start when you’re ready.Or I can get a jump on it, if that’s what you’d prefer.Design everything however you want.As many beds as you want.Enough space for whatever life hands us -- whether it’s a bunch of animals or you want a houseful of kids.”
Her shaking fingers touched the key without taking it.Her lips worked around words that wouldn’t form.“I don’t understand.”
“What part?”
Tears spilled fast, unrestrained.“You’re giving me a future.A home.After everything I dragged to your doorstep -- danger, fear, fire -- you’re telling me I get to stay.I know I told you I wanted to be with you, that I chose you, but this takes things to another level.”
The hit landed deep.Despite her previous words, it was clear some part of her still believed she was temporary.I knew the psychological and emotional wounds Mercer had engraved on her wouldn’t heal overnight, but I thought we’d made more progress.
“Marci.You were staying from the second you walked into my bar.”
“You didn’t have to do this.”Her voice cracked.“You didn’t need to buy land or prove anything.”
“I needed you to have something you could hold when the fear shows up again.”The key swayed between us, bright and clear.“Something real.Something no one can take.A place to put down roots.A place where your life gets built instead of repaired.”
She stared at the key again.Then at me.Then at the key.Her hands rose slowly, gathering the chain like she held something fragile enough to break under the wrong breath.“Where is it?”
“Old Miller Road.Wooded on three sides, state forest on the back, so no neighbors creeping into our lives.Clearing faces south.Sun all day for your garden.Creek stays clean enough to swim in during summer.”I pictured the land again -- walks I’d taken imagining her there, hair blowing in the breeze.“An oak near the western edge.Huge.Maybe two centuries old.Thought we could build near it so we’d get shade in the evenings.”
Her voice sounded reverent.“An oak.A creek.Roses.”
“As many roses as you want.”
Her head lifted.“When did you get it?”
“Two weeks ago.”I tucked her hair behind her ear gently.“Waited for the right moment.Probably not the most romantic location.”
“No.”Her smile broke through tears, shining and trembling.“This is perfect.This is…” Her breath shuddered.She pressed the key against her heart.“I never imagined I’d have this.Never imagined I deserved a home no one could tear away.You just -- handed it to me like nothing came out of your pocket for it.”
“Easiest choice I’ve ever made.”I drew her close, hands steady on her waist.“A life beside you.Gardens.Sunlight.A porch full of flowers.All I want.”
She jumped into my arms so fast I staggered back.The key crushed between us, her body shaking from emotion too big to hold.Tears soaked my shoulder.Her fingers clutched at my shirt like she needed proof I wouldn’t disappear.
I held her, solid and steady.One hand in her hair, the other anchoring her.Relief rolled off her in waves -- raw, startling, beautiful.She wasn’t grieving.She was finally believing she was safe.
“Thank you,” she whispered against my throat.“Thank you, thank you…”
“You don’t thank me for giving you what you should’ve had decades ago.”
“I do.”She pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, face blotched, eyes blazing.“You could’ve kept things the way they were.But you gave me something bigger.You gave me permission to want more.To dream.To build something no one can burn down.”
My thumbs wiped her tears.“House goes up in spring.We use winter to plan.You design every inch.”
Her breath hitched.“Big kitchen?”
