“Of course.”
“Windows overlooking the garden?”
“As many as you want.”
“A porch.For morning coffee while everything grows.”
“Done.”
She swallowed hard.“Maybe someday… more space.For a family.If you --”
I kissed her before she could finish.The connection poured certainty into her, every promise without words.Her fingers slid into my hair.The key pressed between us like a vow.When we finally slowed, I rested my forehead against hers.
“Yeah,” I murmured.“Someday.All of it.”
A wet laugh broke from her chest.She fumbled at the necklace.“Help me put this on?”
I took the chain from her hands.She turned, sweeping her hair aside.The clasp clicked into place.The key rested in the hollow of her throat, gleaming against her skin like destiny itself.
Her fingers brushed the key.“How do I look?”
I drew a breath, eyes locked on her.“Like you’re home.Finally home.”
Marci laced her fingers through mine, grip confident.The key flashed in the lantern glow.
We barely moved three steps into the crowd before Atilla’s voice cut through everything.“Hold up.”
The room didn’t turn silent, not completely, but people paused.A ripple of awareness moved through brothers and families until attention centered on us.Atilla stood near the bar, broad shoulders squared, expression unreadable as his gaze hit the key resting against Marci’s throat.The patch on his cut carried decades of leadership, every person in the bar recognizing the sharp focus settling over his expression.The crowd parted in a natural wave as he advanced.Close range revealed approval behind the stern lines of his face.
He motioned toward the key resting at Marci’s throat.“That’s new.”
Marci laid her fingers over the key, pride and nerves tangled in the same small gesture.“Ace gave this to me.A key to land he bought.For a house.For us.”
No smile from Atilla -- just one slow nod that landed heavier than any cheer.He turned toward the crowd, raised his glass high enough for every brother, every sister, every friend to see.
Conversation dissolved.Music dropped to a hum.Heads tilted our direction.Marci shifted closer, her grip tightening around my hand.
“Three months ago someone tried to rip apart everything we built,” Atilla said, voice reaching every corner of the bar.“Believed destroyingThe Spokewould break us.Believed fear would keep us down.”
He looked around at the room.Pride hardened his voice.“He was wrong.We rebuilt.We came back stronger.You can destroy boards and beams but you can’t destroy family.”
Glasses lifted across the room in agreement.
Atilla looked directly at Marci.Then at me.“This place gave us another sister.Gave one of our brothers his future.A woman who spent too long running finally stopped.”His voice dropped, heavy and sincere.“To Ace and Marci.To new beginnings.To rising from the ashes stronger than before.”
“New beginnings.”The words echoed back from every direction.
Celebration detonated across the room again, warmth pushing in from every direction.Bodies closed the distance fast.Casey reached us first, Maui’s kid bouncing on her hip.She tugged Marci into a fierce hug -- strong enough to trigger panic months earlier, now welcomed without hesitation.
Madison joined an instant later, arms looping around both women.Truth hovered nearby, hands flying through signs while Madison spoke, a fluid conversation built from familiarity rather than fear.It was something I noticed he did, whether she was speaking or someone else.Relief moved through the group like a pulse.Love circled Marci until her shoulders trembled from emotion too heavy to hide.
Casey stepped back, eyes bright.A gentle touch landed on the key resting above Marci’s heartbeat.She turned to me, expression warm enough to hit like a punch.
“You romantic bastard.”
Marci wiped her face, smiling through tears she tried to hide.“He bought land.For a house.And a garden.Everything I planned.”
“That’s family.You build something permanent.You give the people you love a home.”
