“Goddamn, I’m lucky…” Bree’s fingers trail from my heart to my hand, and she gives it a light squeeze. “It’s not luck, Parker. This was all you.” I swallow, drinking in the scene before me. “You built this life, just like you built your home—from the ground up, with careful tools, hard work, and a lot of blood, sweat, and tears.” Her arm stretches outward, showcasing the fruits of my labor. “You put this here.”
