“That’s all I ask,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “A chance. To earn back your trust. To be the man you deserve.”
Thunder rumbled again, but farther away now, the storm beginning to move past them. Through the window, Sunny could see breaks in the clouds, patches of night sky beginning to emerge, a few stars twinkling defiantly through the remaining haze.
“The storm’s passing,” she observed, feeling the symbolism of the moment.
Liam followed her gaze to the window. “It is,” he agreed softly. “But we don’t have to leave tonight. We could wait until morning. Head back when the roads are safer.”
The suggestion wasn’t presumptuous — just practical, considerate. Still, Sunny felt a flutter of nervousness at the thought of spending the night in this small cabin with Liam, with so much still unresolved between them.
“That makes sense,” she agreed carefully. “The sofa pulls out into a bed. You can take the bedroom.”
A flicker of disappointment crossed Liam’s face, quickly masked. “Of course,” he said, squeezing her hand lightly before releasing it. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”
Sunny stood, needing movement, needing to process the whirlwind of emotions the evening had brought. “I should see what I can salvage of dinner. Power outage or not, we still need to eat.”
“I’ll get the fire going stronger,” Liam offered, rising as well. “We can cook over it if necessary.”
As they moved back into their earlier rhythm, Sunny felt something shift inside her. For the first time in five days, she felt something beyond pain and loneliness.
She felt hope.
And for tonight, in this small cabin by the lake, with the storm receding and the stars beginning to emerge, that was enough.
Sunny
Sunny’s hand trembled on the passenger door handle of Liam’s SUV, her breath catching as they pulled into the familiar circular driveway. The Anderson mansion loomed before her, its windows glowing with warm light against the darkening evening sky. Five days ago, she had driven away from this house with tears blurring her vision, convinced she would never return. Now, she was back — not as the same person who had left, but as someone attempting to rebuild what had been broken.
“We’re home,” Liam said softly beside her, his deep voice carrying an undercurrent of nervous energy. He turned off the engine but made no move to exit the vehicle, giving her the time she needed.
Home. The word lodged in Sunny’s throat like a stone. Was it still her home? Could it be again?
They could have been back hours earlier — Lake Willow was only a two-hour drive — but they’d taken their time, stopping at a lakeside diner for a long, quiet lunch, then pulling over at a scenic overlook where they’d sat in companionable silence, both preparing themselves for what lay ahead. Sunny had asked for these delays, and Liam had honored her need to approach their return at her own pace.
“They don’t know we’re back yet,” Liam added, glancing at the house. “I told Beth not to say anything, just in case…”
The unspoken end of that sentence hung between them:Just in case you changed your mind. The journey from Lake Willow had been mostly silent, filled with meaningful glances and careful small talk as they navigated the new terrain of their relationship — a relationship fundamentally altered by pain and tentative forgiveness.
“I’m ready,” Sunny said, though her white-knuckled grip on her bag suggested otherwise.
Liam nodded, respecting her process without pushing. That was new — the careful consideration, the space he gave her emotions. It was just one of many small shifts she’d observed in him since he’d appeared on her cabin doorstep, rain-soaked and desperate.
The gravel crunched beneath their feet as they walked toward the front door, Sunny a half-step behind Liam. Betty Bear was clutched in her left hand, the worn stuffed animal a reminder of why she was doing this — not just for herself, but for two little girls.
At the threshold, Sunny paused, her free hand pressed against the smooth wood of the door. Five days ago, she had walked through this door in the opposite direction, carrying the weight of rejection and heartbreak. Now, she stood on the precipice of return, of second chances, of rebuilding what had shattered.
“Take your time,” Liam murmured, his eyes soft with understanding.
Sunny drew a deep breath and nodded. Liam opened the door, and they stepped inside together.
The familiar scent hit her first — the subtle blend of lemon furniture polish, fresh flowers that Beth always kept in the entryway, and the underlying essence that was uniquely Anderson. It smelled like routines and bedtime stories, like pancake mornings and movie nights. It smelled like belonging.
The foyer was empty, but from deeper in the house came the sound of children’s voices — animated but subdued, lacking the exuberance Sunny had grown accustomed to. Beth’s gentler tones interwove with theirs, the cadence of ordinary evening conversation.
“We’re back,” Liam called out, his voice carrying down the hallway.
The conversation stopped abruptly. For three heartbeats, silence reigned. Then came the thunder of small feet racing across hardwood floors.
“Daddy’s home!” Hailey’s voice pierced the silence, growing louder as she approached.
