Same thing, really.
I scrub myself raw, then take extra time getting dressed despite the heat already creeping through the open window.
Clean jeans.
Button-down.
Even comb my damn hair.
Yeah, I’m that guy today.
When I step out into the stairwell that leads to the private entrance, Mrs. Giancarlo is there, fussing with her mail.
She spots me immediately and smiles, eyes crinkling like the sweet old Kitchen Witch that she is.
“Where are you going so handsome today?” she teases, leaning on her cane like she’s about to interrogate me.
“Good morning,” I say, returning her smile as I hold up the thick envelope in my hand.
I pass it to her gently. Like it’s something precious.
Because honestly? It is.
“It’s done,” I tell her softly.
Pride fills me and I’m almost overcome with it. I never imagined I could accomplish anything in my life, but I have a purpose now.
I have goals. And this here, this is step one to achieving those goals.
“Here’s the final agreement, plus the receipt for the wire transfer. My house is yours now, for life, Mrs. G. No one’s kicking you out. Ever.”
Her lips wobble before she beams, eyes glassy with unshed tears.
“Dear boy, you did it.”
“I did,” I agree, warmth swelling in my chest.
“And now you can keep puttering in your garden and yelling at the neighbor kids like always.”
She lets out a watery laugh, pulling me into one of her signature grandmotherly hugs that somehow manages to both soothe and suffocate.
I let her, even though my Wolf whines a little.
He’s single-minded right now.
Dina. Mate. Fix this. Claim.
Still, Mrs. Giancarlo deserves this moment.
“And hey,” I add, pulling back with a grin.
“In honor of this big win, and something even bigger I’ve got planned, I’d love if you’d come to a little get-together this Friday. My treat. I’ll send a car and everything.”
She blinks, clearly touched.
“Oh, Douglas, of course I’ll come! You’re just like a son to me, you know that? I’m so proud of you.”
Yeah, that hits me right in the soft spot.