The word hung in the humid morning air, freezing every person on the terrace. “Daddy?”

That evening, after the children were asleep, I found Grace sitting on the low stone wall beside the rose beds—the exact spot where I had knelt in the mud six months earlier.

She was wearing a thick cozy sweater against the crisp October air, holding a steaming mug of tea, looking out over the moonlit valley.

"Mind if I join you?" I asked, stepping off the terrace.

Grace looked up, smiling warm. "It's your garden, Mr. Whitaker."

"Evan," I corrected gently, taking a seat beside her on the stone wall. "How many times do I have to ask you to call me Evan?"

"Old habits," she chuckled, taking a sip of tea. "It's peaceful out here tonight."

"It is," I agreed, looking at the dark outlines of the rose bushes. "I was sitting right here six months ago with a fake beard and mud on my face, hating myself."

Grace set her mug down on the stone between us. "You shouldn't hate the man who was in that mud, Evan. He was fighting for his kids."

"He was late," I said softly. "You were early."

Grace turned her head, looking at me with those steady, honest brown eyes that had never flinched from the truth. "I was just doing what anyone should have done."

"Nobody else did," I reminded her. "Ten employees walked through this house every day and looked the other way. You didn't."

Silence stretched between us—not the heavy, awkward silence of the past, but a warm, comfortable quiet filled with mutual understanding.

I reached out, setting my hand on the stone wall, my fingers hovering just an inch from hers.

"Grace," I began, my voice lower than usual. "Michael gave me the final legal reports today. Everything with Vanessa is officially over."

"I know," she nodded softly. "I'm glad. For the kids."

"I was wondering..." I paused, feeling a sudden surge of nervous energy I hadn't felt since I was a teenager. "I was wondering if you would let me take you out to dinner tomorrow night. No legal talk, no house schedules, no estate business."

Grace looked at my hand on the stone, then raised her eyes to mine. A soft, beautiful smile slowly spread across her lips.

"Is this an order from my employer?" she teased gently.

"It's a plea from a man who is incredibly grateful to have you in his life," I replied honestly.