Her eyes widen slightly. "Stay?"
"Here. With us." I pause, choosing my words carefully. "I know it's fast. I know you don't owe us anything. But…" I break off, searching for the right words. "Kinsley likes you. I can see it. And you're good with her., you're good for her."
"Ezra—"
"And I—" I stop again, forcing myself to meet her gaze. "I don't want you to leave."
She stares at me for a long moment, and I can see the emotions flickering across her face—surprise, uncertainty, hope.
"You're asking me to stay," she says slowly. "Here. In the cabin. With you and Kinsley."
"Yes."
"For how long?"
"As long as you want."
She blinks, and I see the shimmer of tears in her eyes. "You don't even know me."
"I know enough," I say, echoing her own words. "I know you're kind. I know you're patient. I know you're good with kids, and you make Kinsley laugh, and—" I pause, my voice roughening. "I know I feel safer with you here than I have in years."
A tear slips down her cheek, and she swipes at it quickly. "What if I'm not what you need?"
"You are."
"What if I mess this up?"
"You won't."
"How do you know?"
"Because you're here," I say simply. "Because you stayed last night even when you were scared. Because you didn't run when you saw how we live, or judge us, or try to change us. You just… fit."
She lets out a shaky breath and steps closer, closing the distance between us. Her hands come up to rest on my chest, and I cover them with my own.
"I don't have much to offer," I say quietly. "No city conveniences. No easy life. Just this cabin, these mountains, and us."
"That's enough," she whispers. "That's more than enough."
Relief crashes over me, so strong it almost knocks me off balance. I pull her into my arms, holding her tight, and she buries her face against my chest.
"Are you sure?" I ask, my voice muffled against her hair.
"Yes," she says, her voice firm despite the tears. "I'm sure."
We stand like that for a long moment, wrapped around each other.
Behind us, I hear the soft pad of footsteps, and I glance over my shoulder to see Kinsley standing in the doorway, the dog at her side. She's watching us with wide eyes, and when she sees me looking, she smiles.
"Is Wendy staying?" she asks.
I look down at Wendy, and she nods, smiling through her tears.
"Yeah," I say. "She's staying."
Kinsley's face lights up, and she rushes forward, wrapping her arms around both of us. Bolt barks once, tail wagging furiously, and nudges his way into the middle of the group.
We stand there in Kinsley's small room, tangled together, and for the first time in years, I feel whole.
