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“What is this place?” I ask as we park and get out, catching sight of an extensive playground on one side of the building. “Is this a school?”

“It’s a lot of things,” Hayden says softly.

I glance at him, but I can’t quite get a read on his expression.

We walk up to the entrance and buzz to be let inside. Once we’re through the doors, I see the walls are painted in cheerful, welcoming colors, and we’re standing in a lobby that reminds me of a hospital reception area, but much warmer and less depressing.

There’s a woman at the front desk who lights up the moment she spots us. “Hello, boys! It’s so wonderful to see you all again!”

She comes over to greet us, and I notice threads of silver in her dark hair, but her face radiates youthful energy and warmth. All three men hug her affectionately.

“Ellen, how are you holding up?” Hayden asks, his entire demeanor gentler and more open than I’ve ever witnessed. “The kids aren’t running you too ragged, I hope?”

“They’re all fantastic. Let me give you the tour—you’re here for the pageant?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Ford assures her.

Ellen notices me and gives me a curious, welcoming look. “And who’s this lovely young woman?”

“This is Maeve,” Gabriel says with unmistakable pride, while Ford slips a protective arm around my waist.

“My fiancée,” Ford explains.

I flush slightly, extending my hand. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“Oh please, none of that formality.” Ellen pulls me into a warm hug instead. “I’m thrilled to see that at least one of you is finally settling down! Come with me—you’re just in time for the updated tour before tonight’s performance.”

We’re guided through the entire facility, and it quickly becomes clear this is a comprehensive youth center. It also serves as a residential facility for children in the foster system who need temporary housing while waiting for placement or dealing with difficult family situations.

The place is incredible. It’s warm and welcoming and fun—exactly the kind of environment that would make a child without a stable family feel genuinely cared for and valued.

During the tour, Ford, Gabriel, and especially Hayden ask detailed questions about everything—making sure the children are receiving quality education, plenty of opportunities for sports and theater and other activities, adequate counseling support, and more. I feel slightly dizzy listening to how much they know about every aspect of this place.

This isn’t some random charity obligation they fulfill out of duty. I know exactly how much charitable work they do because I help coordinate their donations and gala appearances. I’ve always been proud to tell people that my bosses are generous, compassionate men who never forget to give back.

But I had no idea about this place. This level of hands-on involvement goes far beyond writing checks.

When the tour and detailed discussions wrap up, Ellen leads us to what appears to be a large auditorium that doubles as a community dining space. We sit with about thirty other attendees—mostly social workers, therapists, and extended family members who care about these children but can’t provide homes—and watch a delightful Christmas pageant and talent show. The performers range from tiny children to teenagers, and every act is genuinely heartwarming.

Afterward, the men circulate and talk with everyone who attended. There’s a mother still in rehabilitation who can’t regain custody of her daughter yet, grandparents too elderly and frail to manage active children, older siblings who are too young or financially unstable to care for younger brothers and sisters still in the system. The men speak with each person individually, asking thoughtful questions about how they might provide additional support.

They’re patient and kind with everyone, making people laugh and feel heard. I’ve never been more proud to know these men than I am in this moment. Several people tell me when they learn who I am—who I’m pretending to be—that I must be incredibly proud of my fiancé and his business partners.

“I am,” I say with complete sincerity. “More proud than I can possibly express.”

After final conversations with some of the children and a planning discussion with Ellen, we head back outside. My heart feels heavy, but in a bittersweet rather than sad way. This is reality—some children get dealt terrible hands through no fault of their own. But there are people like Ellen and programs like this willing to help, even with the kids who are struggling the most.

“I had no idea about any of this,” I admit as we walk toward the car. “I coordinate all your other charitable work. How did I not know about this place?”

“This isn’t like our other commitments,” Ford explains. “With most organizations, we’re happy to follow expert recommendations, write checks, or show up when our presence helps with publicity. Whatever they tell us would be most beneficial. This is different.”

“We wanted something hands-on,” Gabriel adds. “Something deeply personal.”

They both glance meaningfully at Hayden as Gabriel speaks.

“Why this specific cause?” I ask gently. “As opposed to environmental work or animal welfare?”

“That would be my doing,” Hayden says quietly. “I chose this focus. They supported my decision.”