Page 74 of The Valentine Agenda

Sophie squeezed her hand. "Someone thought you were."

Hannah stared at a new painting from Michael—a portrait of her helping him with his reading. The care in every brushstrokemade her throat tight. "How?" she managed finally. "The frames alone must have cost..."

The professional gallery lighting—exactly what she'd mentioned wanting during their walk to the ice cream shop. The frame style she'd admired in a magazine she'd left open in the community room. Even the coffee from The Daily Grind, served exactly how she liked it.

James hadn't just funded this.

He'd remembered every detail she'd ever mentioned. Had noticed every small thing that mattered to her. Had turned her offhand wishes into reality.

He'd just... wanted her to have this. Wanted her to feel as seen as she tried to make others feel.

"Oh," Hannah breathed, the realization hitting her like a physical blow. "Oh."

She was his first choice. Maybe his only choice.

And now...

Now he was loving her the only way she'd taught him how—by showing up. By noticing what mattered. By making her world better without expecting anything in return.

"Hannah?" Sophie touched her arm gently. "You okay?"

Hannah stared at her reflection in the window, at all the evidence of James's quiet love surrounding her in perfectly arranged details.

"I don't know," she whispered, pressing her hand to her chest where something that felt dangerously like hope was starting to bloom. "I really don't know."

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Hannah found him in the quiet corner of the community room, adjusting one of the display lights. Most of the birthday guests had gone home, leaving only the gentle hum of the perfectly-regulated heating system and the soft glow of his carefully arranged gallery lighting.

"You did all this," she said quietly.

James's hands stilled on the light fixture. He turned slowly, and Hannah's breath caught at his expression—uncertainty mixed with something that looked terrifyingly like love.

"The children did the art," he deflected. "The residents wrote the stories. I just—"

"Remembered everything." Hannah stepped closer, gesturing at the details around them. "The frame style I mentioned once. The lighting I wished we had. Even the temperature—it's exactly right for Mrs. Peterson's arthritis."

James ran a hand through his hair, messing it up in that way that made her fingers itch to smooth it. "I pay attention now," he said softly. "You taught me how."

The weight of everything he wasn't saying hung between them. Hannah touched her silver apple necklace without thinking, a nervous habit she'd developed. James's eyes tracked the movement.

"I have something for you." His voice was rough. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small box. "I saw it, and I... I kept thinking about that night at Nero's."

Hannah's fingers tightened on her necklace. "James—"

"No, please. Let me..." He opened the box, revealing a delicate gold pendant. An apple, crafted with simple elegance. "That night, I thought jewelry had to be impressive to be valuable. But your necklace..." He gestured at the silver apple she wore. "It's perfect. Because it's you. Real and meaningful and beautiful without trying to be anything else."

Hannah stared at the pendant. It would complement her silver apple perfectly—not replacing it or overshadowing it, but existing alongside it. Just as James had learned to exist in her world without trying to change it.

"I'm not trying to..." He swallowed hard. "I just wanted you to have something that showed you I understand now. What matters. Who you are."

Her vision blurred slightly. "James," she whispered.

He looked down at the necklace, his thumb brushing the delicate apple.

Hannah's heart thundered in her chest.

"Will you..." His voice caught. "Would you wear it? Not because you forgive me, or because you—" He broke off, running an agitated hand through his hair again. "Just because it belongs with you. Like everything beautiful belongs with you."

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