Page 61 of Small Town Daddy

“I’m sorry,” I said.

He turned the paper to face me. Big, bold letters at the top confirmed what I already knew. Deed of Sale. My childhoodhome. My sanctuary. My last connection to Dad. Signed, sealed, sold. My heart sank.

"Marcus, why are you showing me this?" I whispered, each word breaking apart under its own weight.

"Look closer." He tapped the bottom of the page, where another name glared back at me. His name.

"Wait . . ." My thoughts scrambled for purchase. "This isn’t . . . You didn’t—"

"I bought it," he said simply. His voice dropped lower, quieter, pulling me in whether I wanted it or not. "Put in a higher bid than the developers. I couldn’t let someone else take it away from you. It’s yours, Lucy. All yours"

The air rushed out of me like I’d been punched. For a second, all I could do was stare at him, at the paper, at the impossible thing he’d done.

Marcus knelt in front of me, the crack of his knee on the wooden floor loud enough to make Marie suck in a breath. His hands found mine, warm and rough, enveloping my trembling fingers. I couldn’t look at him—didn’t want to—but he tilted his head slightly, catching my eyes like a hook catching a fish.

"Lucy," he began, voice low and gravelly, like it hurt to speak. "I know what this house means to you. Whathemeant to you. When Vanessa told me you’d sold it, I thought—I hoped, frankly—that you’d made the decision rashly. I presumed you did it because you thought I’d gone back to Emily. And that you wanted to be away from this town, and from me, for good."

My throat tightened. My chest felt hollow and heavy all at once.

“My hope, my plan,” he continued, sincerity burning bright in his eyes, “was that if I bought the place, and explain what happened with Emily, you might change your mind. And stay.” He took my hands in his, the warmth of his touch speeding my heartbeat. “And if you don’t want to stay, that’s fine. You’ll havethe money from the sale. Set you up for whatever kind of future you like.”

“You did that for me?”

“Of course.” He paused a moment. “You want to know why Emily sent you that message? Why she got so upset that she tried to ruin my life?”

I nodded.

“Because I told her that I loved you.”

Behind him, I caught the flash of Marie wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her cardigan. Mrs. Henderson was dabbing furiously at her face with that floral apron she always wore, and Brett? Brett leaned against the counter with an obnoxious grin, like he’d been waiting for this moment his whole damn life.

“You love me?”

"How could I not?" His voice cut through my question, sharp and sure. "I believe in you. In us. You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. And I want to be with you. If you’ll have me."

His grip on my hands tightened—not enough to hurt, but enough to ground me. Enough to tell me he wasn’t going anywhere.

"I love everything about you," he continued, leaning closer. His blue eyes burned, pinning me in place. "The way you light up when you write. The way you care, even when you think no one notices. The way you fight like hell to keep moving forward, even when the world tries to knock you down. I see it all, Lucy. And I loveallof it."

My breath hitched. Heat rose to my cheeks, my throat, pooling somewhere low in my stomach.

"Marcus . . ."

"Let me finish," he murmured, his lips quirking into the faintest smile. "You’ve spent so much time trying to fit yourself into boxes other people built for you, haven’t you? But what ifyou didn’t have to anymore? What if you could justbe—every part of you?"

Every part of me. He saw me. Like no-one else.

"I want that for you," he said, softer now, his fingers tracing the backs of my hands. "A future where you can write, dream, be Little, be grown-up—whatever you need to be. A place where you don’t have to hide."

My heart clenched so hard it hurt. I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Nothing except the tears spilling over my lashes, hot and unrelenting.

"Hey," he whispered, shifting closer, his knees creaking against the hardwood. "You don’t have to say anything right now. Just . . . let me do this. Let me give you the space to be who you are, who you’re meant to be."

I nodded, barely able to see him through the blur of tears. My hands shook in his, but I didn’t pull away. I couldn’t.

"Say something, Lucy," he urged gently, his voice breaking just enough to undo me completely.

"Okay," I choked out finally. My voice wavered, but it was there. "Okay."

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