Page 67 of The Valentine Agenda

Hannah touched the reinforced base, remembering how one had wobbled last week. She'd barely mentioned it, just a passing comment about needing to be careful. Now each easel was perfectly stable, modified with such attention to detail that you'd hardly notice the change unless you knew to look.

"Someone fixed them," she said softly.

"Mr. Park did," Liam announced proudly. "I saw him super early this morning when Grandpa and I came to set up. He was checking all of them to make sure they were steady."

Hannah's hands stilled on the easel. "He was here this morning?"

"Uh huh. He's always here early." Liam beamed. "Last week he helped me hang my storm clouds. He said art deserves to be seen properly."

"And remember when my glitter painting kept falling?" Sarah added excitedly. "He got that special mounting stuff. Said even happiness needs the right support to shine."

Hannah's throat tightened as she looked around the room with new eyes. The perfect temperature for Mrs. Peterson's arthritis. The strategic placement of chairs near the display boards. The way the morning light fell exactly where it was needed.

James wasn't here. But he was everywhere.

"Ms. Miller?" Michael's voice was hesitant. "Do you miss Mr. Park?"

Hannah touched the fresh watercolor paper, its quality evident under her fingertips. "Sometimes," she admitted. "But he's still here, isn't he? In all the ways that matter."

"My daddy saw him fixing the heater last night," Sarah whispered, like she was sharing a secret. "After everyone went home.”

Hannah's heart did that familiar skip. Because of course he had. Of course he'd handle it himself, late at night when no one would see.

"My sister says," Sarah continued with childhood wisdom, "that when someone really cares about you, they make your world better even when you're not looking."

A laugh bubbled up in Hannah's throat, caught somewhere between aching and understanding. Because that's exactly whatJames had been doing, wasn't it? Showing up in all the quiet ways.

Had anyone ever loved her like this before? With such careful attention to detail, such consistent dedication to her happiness?

"Ms. Miller?" Tommy's voice pulled her back. "Can we make something special? To thank Mr. Park?"

Hannah looked at her students—these beautiful souls who saw so clearly what had taken her months to understand.

"Yes," she said finally, touching the perfectly organized supplies, the steady easels, all the evidence of James's quiet care. "I think that's a wonderful idea."

The children gathered their materials, debating what colors to use, while Hannah found herself looking around the room one more time. James wasn't here, but his presence lingered in every thoughtful detail, every anticipated need, every small kindness that made their world work better.

He hadn't just been helping.

He'd been choosing her.

Every single time.

Even now.

Even when she couldn't see him at all.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

James

The boardroom felt different. James stood at the head of the table, tie slightly loosened. The projector hummed behind him, spreadsheets casting their usual blue glow across serious faces.

"The Mitchell numbers are concerning," Richard said from his end of the table. "Three months ago, this was a straightforward acquisition. Now you're suggesting we restructure the entire approach?"

James studied the faces around him. A year ago, he would have seen them as obstacles to overcome, pieces to maneuver. Now he saw people – some worried about quarterly projections, others concerned about their teams, all of them trying to navigate success and responsibility.

"Look at page seventeen," James said, clicking to a new slide. "Mitchell's core strength isn't their market share. It's their people. Their community integration. They've built relationships that go beyond profit margins."

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