Joanne turned instinctively toward Christina, searching for reassurance. The older woman reached out and gently took Philip's hand. Her face was soft, overwhelmed even.
Philip cleared his throat, his voice thick with restrained emotion. "I'd be honored," he said, at last.
Only then did Joanne notice the way his eyes glistened, the way he sat so still, not from hesitation, but from composing himself.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice breaking slightly as a smile bloomed on her lips.
Jeffrey reached for her hand, and she took it, her fingers trembling with the depth of the moment.
She felt held. Chosen. Loved. Surrounded by warmth. And that, more than anything, was all she had ever wanted.
Philip was still visibly moved, but he quickly shifted gears to the next order of business—the wedding expenses.
"And don't worry about the costs. Sean had left~"
"No," Joanne interrupted gently but firmly. "Papaw didn't."
