Chapter 107: House Hunting

The townhouse wasn’t anything special.

At least, not to most people.

Its brick exterior had dulled and baked under too many seasons. The flower beds were barren, save for a few stubborn weeds forcing their way through cracked mulch. Around the windows, white paint peeled away in curling strips. Even the mailbox, slouching, tired, leaning a little too far left, seemed to sigh with every breeze.

It was far from perfect.

But when I looked at it, I didn’t see tired paint or weeds. I saw a little boy racing his bike down the sidewalk, laughter trailing behind him. I saw backpacks dropped in a heap by the door, the trace of muddy shoes after school. I saw Christmas lights tangled along the gutters, glowing through the darkest nights.

What I saw was home.

John unlocked the front door and pushed it open, his eyes twinkling. “Ladies first.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

He shrugged with a grin. “I’m old. Humor me.”

Still smiling, I stepped inside. The air was tinged with fresh paint and sawdust, a house in transition, not yet lived in, but full of possibility. Quiet wrapped around me, a hush so different from anything I’d ever known. It was a quiet that ached with hope.

John let me wander a few moments, then crossed his arms. “So… what do you notice first?”

I glanced around. “The living room’s pretty big.”

He nodded. “Anything else?”

I frowned, searching. “The kitchen seems nice.”

He grinned. “Forget both of those.”

I blinked. “What?”

He motioned me over to the kitchen sink, opening the cabinet doors beneath. “Come here. What’s the first thing you smell?”

I leaned down, uncertain. “…Nothing?”

He smiled, satisfied. “Exactly. No mold. No water damage. No leaks.” He shut the cabinet with a soft thud. “Never fall in love with countertops.”

I laughed, the sound echoing in the empty house. “Seriously?”

He pointed at me. “Countertops are easy. Foundation problems aren’t.”

For the next hour, John guided me through the townhouse as if revealing the secrets of the world. He tested every faucet, opened every window, checked the breaker box, the water heater. He explained roofs mattered more than flooring. School districts, he said, could change lives. Emergency savings, he insisted, mattered just as much as the mortgage.

I listened, really listened, because nobody else had ever taught me these things. Some fathers teach their sons how to buy their first house. Mine never taught me anything. John showed me how to read inspection reports. Mine taught me running was an option.

It wasn’t even a comparison.

It was another world.

We made our way upstairs, a hallway, three bedrooms. The smallest had a single window overlooking a little playground across the street. I smiled before I even realized I was doing it.

John noticed. “Thinking about Xavier?”

I nodded. “He’d spend every afternoon staring out that window.”

John chuckled. “I think he’d wear a path in the carpet running downstairs to ask if he could go play.” I laughed softly, warmth swelling in my chest.

John’s eyes softened as he looked around the room. “I remember when Ellie was little.”

I looked up. “Really?”

He smiled, nostalgia bright. “She insisted every room needed glow-in-the-dark stars. Even the bathroom. I found them on the ceiling for years.” He shook his head, grinning. “Kids make a house feel alive.”

“They do,” I agreed, feeling the truth settle deep in my bones.

We wandered back downstairs. The realtor had stepped outside, leaving us alone in sunlight and dust motes. John leaned against the kitchen island, hands in his pockets.

“So… what do you think?”

I took one last look around... at the windows, the corners, the sunlight pooling on the floor. “I think… someone could be really happy here.”

John nodded. “I think so too.”

I drew a slow breath, nerves buzzing in my chest. “There’s actually… something I wanted to ask you.”

He smiled knowingly. “You already did.”

I rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean.”

His smile softened. “What is it?”

Suddenly, I was nervous... more than any courtroom, more than any job interview. I stared down at my hands. “I’ve been thinking a lot… about yesterday.”

He waited, patient and kind.

“When Ellie stood up… I wanted to stop her.” My voice trembled. “I was terrified. I didn’t want people judging her because of me. I didn’t want her carrying my mess.”

I looked toward the front window, sunlight blurring my vision. “But she stood there anyway. She stood in front of a courtroom full of strangers… and she chose me.” My voice cracked and I laughed, trying to hold back tears. “She chose Xavier.”

All the years of being left... by my parents, by teachers, by friends... rushed up in a wave. “I’ve spent so much of my life believing people only stayed until things got hard. My mom. My dad. Everyone. They all left eventually.”

I looked at John. “But Ellie… she saw the worst parts of my life. The parts I was most ashamed of. She found out everything I’d been hiding. That I quit football. That I worked nights. That I couldn’t even promise her dinner some weeks. And she didn’t run. She ran toward me.” Tears stung my eyes. “I don’t know what I did to deserve that.”

John’s voice was gentle. “You loved someone before yourself.”

I looked at him, hope and heartbreak colliding in my chest.

He smiled. “People like Ellie notice things like that.”

I nodded, taking a shaky breath. “I know we’re young. I know we’ve only been together three months. I know I have six months to prove Judge Warren right. That I can build a life. Give Xavier stability. Become the man he deserves. And I will.” I smiled, conviction anchoring me. “I promise you, I will.” I took another breath, bracing myself. “I’m not asking for your permission to propose tomorrow.”

John chuckled. “I’d hope not.”

I grinned a little. “No… I mean… someday. When I’ve earned it. When I have a home. When Xavier has his own room. When I can stand in front of Ellie knowing I can give her a life, not ask her to carry mine.”

I met his eyes, everything inside me laid bare. “When that day comes… I’d like to ask if I could have your blessing to marry your daughter.”

The house was impossibly quiet. John didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked around the empty living room, the kitchen, the staircase, the quiet rooms above us. When he looked back at me, his eyes shimmered.

“You know…” he began softly. “When Ellie was fifteen, she told Lily that one day she’d marry a man who made her feel safe.” His smile was small, wistful. “Not rich. Not famous. Not the quarterback. Safe.” He laughed, voice catching. “I remember teasing her. I asked if she meant someone who carried pepper spray.”

I smiled through my tears.

“And she said…” His throat worked. “‘No, Dad. Someone who makes me feel like I can finally stop surviving.’” He looked at me for a long moment. “Yesterday, when she stood up in that courtroom, I wasn’t watching you. I was watching her. I watched the way she looked at you. There wasn’t fear. There wasn’t uncertainty. There wasn’t hesitation. There was complete faith.” He stepped closer, his presence steady and warm. “She already believes you’re the man you’re trying so hard to become.”

Tears spilled over. John reached out, placing his hand on my shoulder.

“You asked me for my blessing.” He smiled through his own tears. “Jaxon… I’ve never once questioned whether you’d love Ellie. I’ve only ever worried whether you’d believe you deserved to be loved back.”

My voice was a whisper. “I do now. I think… I think I’m finally starting to.”

John’s eyes filled as he pulled me into a hug. He patted my back, voice thick. “You don’t have to wait until someday for my blessing.”

I pulled back enough to see him, hope and gratitude overflowing.

He smiled. “You’ve had it since the day you walked through my front door carrying the weight of the world… and still stopped to ask my wife if she needed help with dinner.” He squeezed my shoulder, firm and assuring. “When you’re ready… when Ellie’s ready… when the timing’s right… you ask her. And I’ll be the proudest father in the room to call you my son.”

I couldn’t stop crying. For eighteen years, I’d wondered what it would feel like to have someone choose me.

Standing in that empty townhouse, sunlight filtering across the floor, I finally had my answer.