I blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”
“I mean… Stormi the wife, the mother I know her. I saw her. I love her. But what about Stormi the woman the dreamer?” He pulled something out from under the table, wrapped in soft blue tissue paper. “I got you something.”
I unwrapped it slowly, my heart already thumping. Inside was a smooth, leather-bound folder. When I opened it, I found a thick blank architectural blueprint pad and a gold embossed pen tucked inside.
I looked up at him, confused. “What is this?”
Seth leaned in, eyes deep with sincerity. “Your dream. Whatever that looks like. I want you to build it. From the ground up. Dream house. Dream businesses. Dream life. Whatever you want, put it on paper, and I’ll bring it to life.”
I stared down at the blank pages in disbelief in what this man was saying...
“But we already have a big enough house,” I said quietly. “Everything we need is in that house.”
He shook his head. “Nah. That house is enough for us, yeah. But what if you want more? What if that house was just the start? I don’t want you shrinking your dreams to fit into something I built. I want you to build something for you for us but with your vision.”
I was quiet for a long moment, fingers brushing the smooth paper. Emotions welled up in my throat. “I… I don’t even know where to start.”
“Then we start with a question,” he said gently. “If you could do anything in the world, Stormi, with no limits… what would it be?”
I swallowed, hard. “I used to want a wellness center. Somewhere women could come and heal. Not just physically, but emotionally, mentally. Especially women who’ve lost themselves to drugs, life, pain, and trauma.”
He nodded slowly. “So why can’t you have that?”
“Because…” I started, then stopped. “Because I never thought I had the space. Or the support. Or the time.”
“You have all three now,” he said, eyes never leaving mine. “I’ll make sure of it.”
My chest tightened with emotions I’d been dodging for years—the parts of me I buried under fear and settled, the dreams I gave up when playing it safe became survival.
“I just—” I started, eyes glossing over. “I don’t want to seem ungrateful. I love our life. Our kids. You. I love what we’ve built.”
“I know, baby. And I love you for that.” He stood up and walked around to my side of the table, pulling me up gently. His hands cupped my face, thumbs brushing the corners of my eyes. “But just because you’ve built something beautiful doesn’t mean you stop building. You are the dream, Stormi. But you still get to have dreams too.”
Tears slipped down my cheeks as he kissed me slowly...
“I don’t just want to be your husband,” he whispered against my lips. “I want to be your investor. Your protector. Your biggest supporter.”
“You already are,” I whispered back.
He smiled, pressing his forehead to mine. “Good. Then write it all down. Every idea. Every brick. Every color on the wall. Every name on the sign. I want to see what Stormi Knight Greene builds when nothing’s in her way.”
I looked down at the blueprint pad again, the pen shining under the candlelight like a key to the next version of me.
“I guess it’s time I start dreaming again,” I said softly.
“Damn right,” Seth said, pulling me into him again. “And this time, we build that shit together.”
Chapter
Fourteen
SETH
Shit felt like déjà vu leaving my wife and kids at home while I went to put another motherfucker in the ground for a life I was starting to hate. The weight of it pressed against my chest, but my feet still moved. They always did.
I stepped out the front door expecting to see just Rich and Southside posted in the all-black Denali, engine humming low... But when I looked up, all my boys were there.
Rome was leaned against his truck, shirt off, chain swinging, head nodding to some old school ‘90s slow jam. That man stayed in an argument with himself over what era was better, the ‘80s or the ‘90s. But when it came time to focus the ‘90s always won. That music grounded him, gave him peace before the war.
