Who loved Nate and who showed him what a real father looked like. Who taught him that men could be gentle and kind and present.
And Jake.
His brother.
Who died trying to save him. Who chose Nate in the end, even when it cost him everything.
He'd built this for them. For this community. With money he could have taken for himself but gave away instead.
And he never told me.
Never once mentioned it in all our conversations. Never brought me here when he showed me around South Eden. Never used it to prove anything about who he is or what he's capable of.
He just... did it.
Because it was the right thing to do.
"He never said anything," I whisper.
My whole body is trembling now.
"He wouldn't," Nick says. "That's not why he did it."
I stare at the building—at the children playing, at the teenagers laughing, at the adults who look like they finally have a place that's theirs. A place that serves them instead of exploiting them. I think about Dad and about how much he would have loved this.
How he always believed in investing in people, in communities, in the future. How he saw that same belief in Nate when Nate was just a broken teenager who didn't believe in anything, least of all himself.
Dad saw who Nate could become. And Nate became that person, then honored my dad’s memory by building something that embodies everything David Wells stood for.
I press my hands to my face, trying to hold myself together, but I'm breaking apart. My shoulders shake with the force of my crying.
This man. This impossibly good man who thinks he doesn't deserve love because of where he came from and what he's survived.
And suddenly I know what I have to do.
"We should go," I say quietly, wiping at my face. "I don't want to miss my flight."
Nick looks at me carefully.
"You sure?"
"Yeah." I take one last look at the building—at my father's name carved in stone beside Jake's, at the proof of Nate's heart made visible. "I'm sure."
We pull away from the David and Jacob's Centre, and I watch it disappear in the side mirror.
But something has shifted inside me as if it’s settled into place, finally.
I'm getting on that plane.
But not for the reasons I thought.
"Thank you. For showing me that."
He glances at me, and there's understanding in his eyes.
Like he knows exactly what I'm thinking.
"Of course."
