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Savvy was right. This is a gift. It might be the most meaningful gift I’ve ever been given, and Braxton knew me well enough to know that this was exactly what I needed.

I am truly and completely in love with that man.

“I can’t believethey got the fireplace to work,” I muse, staring into the crackling fire. “We’ve used the gas insert for years now.”

I’m sitting between Braxton’s legs on one of the camping cushions, and everyone I love is in a semicircle around the expanded fireplace. It’s truly a work of art. The stonework goes all the way to the ceiling, and the hearth is made of stacked stone.

I couldn’t have dreamed something so perfect.

“One of the first things they did after fixing all structural elements was rebuild the fireplace. If you go upstairs, you cansee it’s still exposed but fully functional,” Cian says. He stands next to the fire, swaying side to side with Keela in his arms.

“It’s really beautiful,” I tell Braxton and nuzzle my cheek against the arm he has draped across my shoulders.

“That was all Elle. She had a very clear vision for this place.”

“Not me,” Elle says. “I just knew what would make my girl happy.”

Braxton leans into me and presses his lips to my ear. “And whatmygirl wants, my girl gets.”

I pinch his arm.

“Ouch. What was that for?”

“I’m not convinced I haven’t dreamed this whole thing up.”

He chuckles, and the sound rolls down my back like a gentle caress. “Sweetheart, you’re supposed to pinch yourself.”

I smirk. “Next time.”

We fall into silence, listening to the conversations happening all around us. They’re loud, and happy, and all mine.

“This might be my favorite memory,” I murmur, not really expecting anyone to answer.

But I should know better when Braxton is around. Something deep in my gut tells me he’ll always hear me.

“I hope this is only the first in a long line of happy memories, sunshine.”

Settling back into his chest, I exhale the sadness that has followed me for years. But this time, when I turn to kiss Braxton, something on the wall catches my attention. Actually, it’s two somethings that steal all the air from my lungs.

I stand silently and step closer to the wall. I feel Braxton’s heat at my back, but he doesn’t say anything. He allows me the time to work through the feelings assaulting me.

“It’s, that’s me and—and Elle, before I moved here. A different photo used to hang here,” I say.

“Pops told me. I thought maybe one of someone who loved you would be a better memory than the one of your parents.”

We’re sitting on a swing Pops had hung from the tree out front. We’re staring at each other, our heads thrown back in laughter—we were only seven or eight here. It makes my heart so happy even as a tear slips down my cheek.

“It’s perfect. Really, it’s perfect.” I stare at it for a long moment, my finger tracing the memory, then move to the one next to it.

The girl is a younger female version of Grey.

“That’s Violet,” he says.

“She’s beautiful. And she looked so happy. I love that you did this.”

He pulls my back into his front and kisses the top of my head. “I want our lives to meld together, Madison. And I thought that maybe the first step was linking our trauma in a way that brought happy memories instead of sad. Violet loved to laugh, and your friends were here for you when you felt like you couldn’t. She would have loved you, and them.”

“This is all… I don’t know what to say, Braxton. I’m standing here, staring at a picture of my childhood before my parents threw me away and not sobbing. I don’t know that this has ever happened before.”