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FINAL INFINITY STONE

LUKE

The porch light flicks on just as I’m stepping out of my truck. It’s that soft, warm kind of glow that makes everything look a little more golden than it is. Or maybe that’s just how I feel walking up to Stella’s door.

Maple’s the first to notice me. Her tail thumps against the wooden step like a tiny drum roll. Lilly’s sitting cross-legged beside her, bundled up in her coat, petting behind one floppy ear and whispering something serious like they’re mid-conversation.

When she spots me, she lights up.

“There he is!” she shouts, hopping to her feet. “I told Maple you’d come. Aunt Stella said maybe, but I knew.”

I grin. “Well, good thing one of you has faith in me.”

Maple trots over and bumps her head against my knee. I give her a scratch behind the ears, then glance up at the screen door just as it creaks open.

Harper steps out, arms crossed, wearing leggings, a hoodie, tall fuzzy boots and the unmistakable I-have-a-six-year-old exhaustion. But she’s smiling.

“She waited out here for you,” she says, nodding toward Lilly. “Insisted she needed to be the welcome committee.”

“Seems like she’s got this place running on a tight ship.”

Harper laughs under her breath, then her eyes soften. “Good job.”

I raise a brow. “For what?”

“For not giving up on her,” she says, quiet enough that only I can hear it.

That lands deeper than I expect. Because there were moments, dark, heavy ones, where I almost did.

But I didn’t.

And now I’m standing here, watching the kid who keeps calling me her friend, the dog who follows me around like I hung the moon, and the younger sister who will probably always give me the side-eye even though she’s also given me her blessing.

The front door opens a little wider, and there she is, wearing jeans and a soft navy blue sweater, hair tucked up in that loose knot I pretend not to obsess over.

“Hi,” she says, cheeks flushed. “Lilly insisted we wait for you on the porch. But honestly, it’s too cold for that.”

“No complaints here,” I say, eyes locked on hers.

Lilly tugs on Maple’s leash. “Okay, now you two go do love stuff or whatever. I have a bath and a Barbie spa night to get to.”

Harper ruffles her daughter’s hair. “Say goodnight, Lil.”

Lilly gives Stella a huge hug, then Stella leans down to give Maple a kiss on the nose. While she does this, Lilly looks up at me. “Don’t forget to tell Aunt Stella she’s pretty. She forgets sometimes.”

I glance at Stella, who rolls her eyes but she’s smiling.

“Noted,” I say. “But for the record, I never forget.”

She shakes her head, but her eyes are bright.

We walk down the steps together, side by side, and I swear, for the first time in a long time, it feels like the start of something that might actually last.

Dinner is easy. The kind of easy that used to scare me—until her.

We don’t talk about big things right away.

Just laugh about Maple’s latest chaos—she chewed through the corner of a throw pillow yesterday—and how Lilly tried to convince Harper to let her wear a tiara to school, but sadly, she had to leave it at home.

I tell her Maddie caught one of our new instructors sneaking a date into the gym through the back entrance and trying to convince the girl he owned the place.

Stella nearly chokes on her drink laughing.

It’s normal. It’s good.

When we get back to my place, she kicks off her shoes like she belongs—like this isn’t new anymore, just us slipping into something easy.

And it hits me, quietly but all at once, how right this feels.

The way she grabs two glasses from the cabinet without asking.

How she always ties her hair up before dinner, like she already knows I’m going to end up pulling it loose.

We end up on the couch, the glow from the TV playing across her face. Something comfortingly mindless is on, neither of us really paying attention.

Her legs are tucked under her, fingers playing with the hem of my sleeve.

Then, softly, like she’s still testing the words out, she says, “So… my landlord’s selling the house.”

I shift slightly, surprised. “Yeah?”

She nods, eyes fixed on some invisible point past the TV. “I got a letter last month. Said I have first option to buy.”

That grabs my full attention. “Are you thinking about it?”

I turn toward her as she nods. “I am.” her voice doesn't waiver.

Her eyes on her hands in her lap. “It’s scary. But I want it. I like the quiet. I like the yard. I like… the feeling of it.”

There’s a pause, and something in her voice shifts—gentler. “It feels like home.”

My heart stutters a beat, but I don’t say anything yet. I’m still trying to figure out if she’s buying that house because it’s hers—or because it’s Harper’s. Or Lilly’s. Or maybe just something she thinks she’s supposed to do now that everything is shifting.

But I wrap my arm around her anyway, because no matter the reason, this is big. Bigger than a move or a mortgage. This is Stella choosing something.

“Then let’s make it yours,” I say.

She bites her lip. “You think it’s a good idea?”

I want to ask—who’s it really for?

But I don’t. Not yet.

“I think it’s the first time you’ve let yourself want something permanent,” I say instead. “That means something.”

She leans into me, and her head rests on my shoulder like it belongs there.

“It does,” she says.

And for a minute, I just let the quiet stretch between us. The hum of the TV. But my thoughts won’t sit still.

She’s buying a house. A real, rooted decision. The kind of move people make when they know exactly what they want.

And Stella… she’s never been the blueprint type.

I glance down at her. “So, if you’re buying a house…”

She shifts, just slightly. “Yeah?”

“What does that mean…for everything else?”

She doesn’t answer right away, so I keep going, carefully.

“I mean, are you still planning to freelance? Travel? You mentioned wanting to get back into some of those bigger photo assignments.”

Her fingers fidget with the edge of the throw blanket. “I was thinking about that.”

I wait.

Then she adds, “I actually made a decision this week.”

That gets my full attention. “Yeah?”

She turns a little, propping her chin on my chest so she can look at me. “Cassie and Layla officially offered me the photography arm of HEA. Not just the weddings, but everything. Events, branding, future product lines. They even started talking long-term partnership.”

I raise my brows, surprised. “Wow. That’s huge.”

She smiles. “It is. And… I said yes.”

The knot in my chest loosens, just a little. But not completely. “That’s amazing, Stell,” I tell her.

She smiles. “Cassie nearly screamed. Apparently I’m their ‘Final Infinity Stone.’”

I brush my fingers over her forearm, slow and easy. “You’re really doing it,” I say. “New job. Buying the house. Staying.”

She smiles into my chest, and for a second, it feels like the world tilts into place.

But then the voice in my head—the one that’s been watching her closely for months—pipes up.

And I can’t ignore it.

“You sure this is what you want?” I ask, my voice low. “All of it?”

She tilts her head up to look at me, brows knitting. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” I hesitate, trying to get the words right. “This is a big shift. You’ve lived on the road, out of duffels and passport stamps for the last decade. Now you’re talking mortgages and monogrammed business cards.”

She doesn’t say anything, so I keep going—gently.

“I just don’t want you to wake up six months from now resenting the stillness. Or worse, me.”

Her eyes soften, but there’s fire there too. “You think I’m doing this for you?”

“No,” I say honestly. “But I think you’re doing it all at once. And it’s okay to admit if you’re scared this might not be enough.”

She pulls in a breath, then shifts to fully face me, legs folding beneath her.

“I’m scared,” she says. “Of a lot of things. But I’ve lived in hotel rooms and shot chaos for years. It was thrilling. But it was also… lonely. And loud in my head.”

I nod slowly, taking her hand.

She squeezes it. “This—this is quiet. But it’s good quiet. And I don’t feel lost here. I feel grounded. That’s new.”

Then her smile quirks. “And besides… just because I’m staying doesn’t mean I’m settling.”

Relief cracks through me like sunlight. “No,” I say, leaning in. “You’re just evolving.”

She leans into me again, our fingers still laced. “I’m not done with photography. Not the big stuff. I still want to take on a couple assignments a year.”

I nod. “Of course.”

“But…” Her voice lowers, nervous now. “I was kind of hoping you’d come with me. When you can.”

I freeze for half a second—then pull her just a little closer.

She rushes to fill the silence. “Not like… as my assistant or anything,” she says with a smirk. “But you seem like a guy who travels light, and I’ve seen you belay. I figure you could keep me sane, talk me down when I get in my head.”

My throat tightens, but I manage a grin. “You want to take me on the road?”

“I want you everywhere,” she says, quiet but sure.

She looks up, nervous again. “That’s not too much, is it?”

I shake my head, already hearing my heart pound.

“It’s everything I want.”

She exhales, eyes glassy now. “Good. Because I love you, Luke.”

The world stills. Then I laugh—quiet, overwhelmed, like the air just got knocked out of me in the best way possible.

I kiss her, slow and full, cupping her jaw like she might disappear if I don’t hold on tight enough. She melts into it, soft and warm, and everything I never thought I’d get to have.

When I finally pull back, I can’t stop smiling. “Say it again,” I whisper, brushing her hair from her face.

Her cheeks flush. “Luke.”

“No,” I cut in, teasing now. “Not my name. The other part.”

She bites her lip, grinning. “I love you.”

I let the words settle, the truth of them rooting deep in my chest.

“I love you too, Trouble.” I press a kiss to her forehead, then one to her lips. “So damn much.”

She laughs through the emotion, tugging me back toward the couch cushions.

“Okay, one more time,” I say, half hovering over her, my voice low and rough. “For good luck.”

Her laugh turns breathless as she pulls me in again.

My mouth finds hers, and the kiss deepens, slow and sure, the kind that makes time feel like it’s melting around us. Her hands are in my hair, mine settling on her waist, sliding under the hem of her shirt, skin to skin. She arches into me like she’s been waiting all week to be touched.

We’re tangled up in each other, the TV forgotten, the only sound in the room the soft scrape of fabric and the hum of breathless laughter.

“Tell me,” I murmur against her lips, “you want to take this to my room.”

She nods once, eyes dark, voice low. “Yeah. I do.”

I pull back just enough to look at her, to make sure, because after everything… I need to be sure. “You gonna sneak out again?”

She smirks, but there’s a flicker of something softer there, too. “Actually,” she says, brushing her nose against mine, “I brought a change of clothes. Toothbrush.”

I raise a brow, surprised but undeniably pleased. “So you came prepared.”

“I’m trying to make better choices,” she whispers. “Starting with staying the night.”

The tightness in my chest eases, replaced with a slow warmth that spreads through every part of me.

“Good,” I say, brushing my thumb along her jaw. “Because I wasn’t planning on letting you go anyway.”

She kisses me again—hungrier this time—and when I stand, taking her hand in mine, she follows without hesitation. No walls. No fear.

Just her hand in mine, and the feeling that this time, she’s staying.