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I follow her through the double glass doors, stepping into the room where Patrick is sitting on the sofa, glancing at something on his phone. An envelope rests beside him on the cushion. He looks up as I enter, tucking his phone away and standing to greet me with a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“I’m sorry to drop by unannounced. But I know Cillian’s gone, and I wanted to come say hello and check on you."

I’m taken at the unexpected concern. “Oh…thank you. I’m doing okay.”

“That's good.” He nods, as if considering his next words, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he takes my hand in his, his grip warm. “I know we haven’t had any time to talk, but I wanted you to know that I’m happy Cillian has you.” His gaze softens, his words catching me off guard.

“Thank you. I really appreciate that.” My pulse stutters.

He nods, releasing a sigh. “I’ve gotta admit, I wasn’t so thrilled with the idea of you two together at first, but I’ve come to realize that whatever problems our families had, it has nothing to do with you kids.”

I blink back the tears clouding my vision. I can only imagine how hard this has been for him, losing his wife the way he did.

“I hold no grudges.” I offer a small, genuine smile.

He stares fondly. “I also came to give you something.”

Reaching for the envelope, he picks it up, staring down at it as though it weighs more than it does, while I grow with confusion.

“Before my wife was…killed, she wrote letters. One for each of our children.” It’s obvious he’s struggling with what he wants to say. “And one for the people they’d end up with.”

Oh…

A throbbing blooms in the center of my chest. I can’t even begin to imagine the strength and pain it must’ve taken for her to do that. But I know how much it would’ve meant to me to have a letter, just one more piece of my mother.

He holds out the envelope for me, and I freeze, afraid of it somehow. My fingers tingle as I take it, pressing it close to my chest. I already know whatever is inside will break me.

“Thank you,” I whisper. “I’m sure she was an amazing woman.”

“She was.” After a beat, he squeezes my hand. “I know Stella would’ve really liked you.”

My throat tightens and I swallow hard, struggling to keep my composure.

“As I do.”

The words land heavy on my heart, mattering more than he realizes.

“I want you to know that no matter what happened between our families, you will always have a place here. To me, you are my daughter now. No different than my own kids. You understand?”

A tear slips free, then another. I swipe at them, completely overwhelmed.

When I was growing up, my father would never have said anything remotely this sweet. He never even gave me love to begin with. And here is Patrick Quinn, a man who has every reason to resent me, telling me I belong. That I’mhisfamily.

I throw my arms around him, and he holds me, letting me cry. A part of me never realized how much I’ve been missing this—a parental figure, people I can count on. Maybe Cillian’s family will be that for me.

After a moment, he pulls back. “Why don’t you come over for lunch? Fernanda cooked, and we’d love the company.”

I sniffle, letting out a small laugh. “Okay. Yeah, I’d like that.”

With one final glance at the letter, I tuck it safely into a drawer, returning to him.

Tonight, when I’m alone, I’ll be ready to read it.

And even though we never met, I already know…I love her.

* * *

STELLA