Chase’s POV
The estate had never felt more alive.
It was two days before the wedding, and every corner buzzed with quiet, purposeful chaos. Pack volunteers moved through the grounds like a second heartbeat—stringing fairy lights along the garden paths, arranging white roses and silver ribbons around the gazebo, hauling tables and chairs into place under the old oak. The air smelled of fresh-cut evergreen and the faint sweetness of the cake being tested in the kitchen.
I stood on the back porch, coffee gone cold in my hand, watching it all unfold.
The knee was stronger now—still taped, still braced for long hours, but the limp had faded to almost nothing. I could walk the perimeter without wincing, could kneel to tie Jaden’s skates without cursing under my breath. Progress. Slow. Earned
