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“About that,” he says. His voice has a nervous edge I don’t hear often. “This is not just my house, Wren. It’s ours.”

My pulse quickens as he reaches into his pocket and then, to my absolute shock, drops to one knee in front of me. My hand flies to my belly.

“Sean?”

“I had a whole speech prepared,” he says, voice rough. “About how you changed everything for me. How I didn’t think I’d ever feel this way again. How you and Eric reminded me of pieces of myself I thought I’d lost for good.”

He opens his palm. It’s not a ring box. It’s something delicate and gold—a pendant in the shape of a lemon. Small. Perfect.

“But it’s pretty simple. I love you, Wren. I love your fire and your patience. I love how you fight for what you believe in. I love watching you with Eric. I love that you don’t need me to protect you but you let me anyway.”

Tears are streaming down my face before I can stop them.

“Wren, I want to be your husband.” He lifts the pendant. “Will you marry me?”

I let out a teary laugh as I touch the little lemon charm. “A lemon instead of a diamond? You reallydoknow me.”

He raises his eyebrows, waiting.

“Yes,” I breathe. “Of course, yes. Yes, I’ll marry you, Sean Langston!”

His whole face transforms with his smile as he stands and helps me up. He fastens the necklace around my neck with a tenderness that undoes me.

“I have a ring too,” he says, pulling a small box from his other pocket. “But this felt more… us.”

Inside the box is a cushion-cut diamond set in yellow gold. Understated and timeless just like I prefer. He slips it onto my finger, and I slide my arms around his neck.

“I never thought I’d say this,” I whisper into his ear, “but you’re the softest bodyguard I’ve ever met.”

He laughs, holding me close. “Many people would disagree.”

“Many people don’t know you like I do.”

I pull back and look at him, warmth spreading through my chest. This man who once showed up at my door with a job to do, and who’s now my home.

“Mom! Uncle Sean! Look what I found!”

Eric runs toward us, his hands cupped.

Sean keeps one arm around me as we both turn to look. Eric opens his hands slowly, revealing a perfect butterfly. Its wings flutter like it’s catching its breath.

“It’s beautiful,” I say in a soft voice. “But you should let it go, sweetheart. It needs to be free.”

Eric nods like he understands. He raises his hands and gently blows on the butterfly. We all watch it spiral into the golden light, rising higher and higher.

Something about the moment knocks the wind out of me. Eric’s joy. The butterfly. The way Sean’s hand is steady at my back.

I lean into him. “When I was little… in foster care,” I say, “I used to say a kind of prayer every night before bed. I’d close my eyes and ask for two things. Love and luxury.”

“I thought if I could build something valuable enough, make enough money, I could for once feel safe. I didn’t realize… I was always chasing the wrong thing.”

Sean plucks a lemon from a low-hanging branch and hands it to me. It’s cool and firm in my palm.

“Who knew a fruit would be the way in?” he murmurs.

I laugh, a real, unguarded laugh. The kind that shakes something loose inside.

“Lemons, love, and luxury,” he says, brushing a finger across the charm now resting against my collarbone. “You got all three.”