Page 188 of Lady and the Hitman

There were more calls from the university. More speculation in the media. My inbox was full of both praise and vitriol.

But something had shifted.

I didn’t need them to like me anymore.

I just needed to be me.

The woman who walked through fire.

The woman who chose truth.

The woman who said yes—to the life, to the man, to herself.

Ronan started bringing blueprints to breakfast.

We debated paint colors. Cabinet finishes. Where to put the coffee station. He wanted an open courtyard in the middle of the house, something full of gardenias and silence. I wanted bookshelves in every room.

He agreed.

“Especially the bedroom,” he added with a smirk. “I like reading to you after I’ve made you beg.”

I threw a pillow at him.

We were a work in progress.

But we were ours.

The day I drove out to the new Johns Island property—our property—I stood in the middle of the foundation and felt something root itself deep inside me. Just down the street, my parents' house sat quiet and familiar, the same one I'd grown up in. We’d finally gone swimming there, just like my mom had wanted. The big in-ground pool, the lush landscaping, the heat of the sun on my skin while Ronan pulled me under and kissed me like he never planned to stop—it had felt like coming full circle. And now, with the new house going up only minutes away, we could swim there anytime. Could bring future falls and summers and stolen afternoons to that same backyard. This place wasn’t just a memory anymore. It was a beginning.

Home.

It wasn’t a guarantee.

But it was real.

And it was mine.

Whatever comes next?—

It won’t be tidy.

It won’t be easy.

But it will be mine.