Page 45 of Owned In Misty Mountain

—-

The silence stretches a little too long.

Then Mike says, “I love your girl.”

My knees go weak.

“I tried to stay away. Thought I was too old. Thought maybe she deserved someone cleaner, smoother.”

There’s a pause.

“I was wrong. She deserves someone who sees her. Who shows up. Who keeps her warm and safe and loved every goddamn day. And that’s me.”

I have to press a hand to my chest.

Because damn.

Then I hear him add, low and steady, “I’m not asking you to give her to me. I’m telling you I’m not walking away.”

The air shifts.

Then Uncle Eddie chuckles. “Goddamn Army.”

Dad speaks next. “You really think you can make her happy?”

“I know I can,” Mike says without hesitation. “I know what she likes for breakfast. I know how she likes her tea. I know she wakes up smiling if you hold her all night. I know how smart she is. How stubborn. How she hums when she’s working. And how beautiful she is inside and out.”

Uncle Eddie whistles low. “Damn.”

Mike adds, voice firm: “I’m not here for a fling. Or a phase. I’m here for forever.”

—-

I step outside.

I don’t say a word.

Just slide up next to him and slip my hand into his.

He glances down. His thumb rubs my knuckles.

Uncle Eddie straightens. Dad stands.

And then—with only a little reluctance—they nod.

“You treat her right,” Dad says.

“Always,” Mike answers.

“And you keep showing up,” Uncle Eddie adds.

Mike’s eyes meet theirs. “Every day. ’Til I stop breathing.”

My breath catches, my heart swells, and just like that, I know we’ll be good.

Nineteen

Mike

---