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"𝐃𝐑. 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐎𝐍 has given me the go-ahead to travel home to Boston," Mrs. Stafford-Smythe announced warmly as she and Montana sat together in the mercantile's restaurant, their lunch plates before them

Montana's eyes brightened as she lifted her glass of mint iced tea, the sunlight catching her golden hair. "I'm so happy for you, Mrs. Stafford-Smythe," she said with her soft, graceful smile. "But I'm going to miss you."

"I'd like you to come with me, Montana."

Montana looked up from her salad, surprised but still composed, her gentle radiance never faltering. "If you're worried about the traveling, my aunt and uncle would be glad to—"

Mrs. Stafford-Smythe shook her head. "No, child. I'm not looking for a traveling companion. I want you to come back to Boston and live with me. You spoke of that orphanage your aunt and uncle visited—I'd like to see it for myself, to meet those children."

Montana chuckled softly, dabbing her lips with her napkin. "You don't need me for that. Aunt Yasmine and Uncle Demetri can give you the name and directions."

Montana's wide eyes reflected both shock and wonder. For a moment, she was silent, the dream she had always held in her heart shimmering before her—yet it felt impossibly generous. "That's... a most generous offer, Mrs. Stafford-Smythe, but I can't possibly accept it."

"You shouldn't have to settle for small dreams," the woman said firmly, her voice softened by affection. "Dare to reach for the great ones. You'll make a marvelous doctor, Montana."

Montana's hands folded neatly in her lap, her voice tender but resolute. "I couldn't. It would take me years and years to repay you."

Mrs. Stafford-Smythe's smile deepened. "My dear girl, it's not a loan—it's a gift. I am a very wealthy woman, and I can afford this. If my Lucy had lived, I know she would have grown into someone just like you."

Montana's composure faltered just slightly, her luminous eyes glistening. "Even if I could accept, what if they won't take a girl from a small town?"

"Posh!" Mrs. Stafford-Smythe waved her hand dismissively. "I'll simply ring up my friend Karen Antman."

Montana leaned forward in astonishment, her graceful calm breaking into delighted awe. "Dr. Karen Antman? The Dr. Karen Antman—the recognized expert on breast cancer, mesotheliomas, sarcomas... and Dean of Boston University School of Medicine?"

Mrs. Stafford-Smythe smiled knowingly. "The very same."

Montana pressed a hand lightly to her heart, her smile luminous. "I don't even know what to say."

"Say yes," Mrs. Stafford-Smythe encouraged, eyes twinkling.

Montana's voice trembled with joy. "Thank you, Mrs. Stafford-Smythe. Thank you a million times over. I'll never, ever forget this."

The older woman reached for her teacup with her left arm, her smile tender. "I know you'll need to talk it over with your family. But when I leave next week, my hope is that you'll be by my side."

She sipped her tea and set the cup delicately down again. Across the table, Montana lifted her glass of mint iced tea, smiling through the shimmer of her tears, her radiant grace filling the room.

  ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

"I think it's the opportunity of a lifetime, Montana," Stella said with her serene, regal grace as she cut neat slices of apple on Kellie's farmhouse table. Around her, the kitchen was full of warmth and chatter—Montana, Kellie, Sam, Hailey, Lori, Kara, Amy, Lydia, and April all gathered, busy with paring knives and bowls, preparing Granny Smith apples for a pie.

"But Boston is far away," Lydia said gently as she peeled an apple in steady spirals. "And we would certainly miss you, darlin'."

Montana's voice was soft, her golden hair catching the afternoon light. "And I'm going to miss all of you. Daddy, Grandpa, my uncles, Maverick... and Robby. I can't leave Robby."

Stella paused, her eyes tender as she reached across the table and brushed her daughter's hand. "Robby will be just fine, sweetheart. Your father and I will take good care of him, and so will Hailey." She smiled, regal and reassuring. "Besides, we always knew the day would come when you'd leave Austin if you wanted a good education."

"It just scares me," Montana admitted softly. "The thought of leaving everyone behind."

Sam, her energy fierce and protective, set down her knife with a thump. "Montana, fear's natural. But you can't let it hold you down. You've got a shot most people only dream about. And I'll tell you this—if anyone's strong enough to step into a new world and own it, it's you."

Montana's lips curved in a faint, grateful smile, though her eyes still shimmered with uncertainty. "How did you do it, mom? When you, Grandpa, and Uncle August moved away after Grandma Ava died?"

Stella's eyes softened at the memory, though her tone stayed steady. "We didn't know what was ahead. All we knew was we couldn't stay frozen. We had to take the leap and trust we'd land on our feet."

Kellie nodded, adding her voice with quiet conviction. "When you face the unknown, you gather every ounce of courage you have and tell yourself—if it's the right thing, it'll work out. And if it doesn't..."

"You can always come home," Lori cut in with a bright, glamorous smile, her voice sparkling like champagne. "And honey, we'll make sure it feels like you never left. But Boston? That's like... iconic. You'll be living my dream."

April laughed softly as she sliced apples with practiced hands. "Don't listen to Lori too much, sweetheart. She means well, but she's right about one thing—you'll always have a home here."

Kara, calm and steady, glanced up from her careful cutting. "Montana, you have such a gentle strength about you. If anyone can handle Boston with grace, it's you. And you'll inspire people there the way you inspire everyone here."

Amy, thoughtful and soulful, set her knife down and leaned in slightly. "And don't forget, this isn't about leaving us. It's about stepping into who you were always meant to be. That light you carry? It belongs in the world, not just this kitchen."

Montana looked around the table at her aunts, her godmothers, her mother—the women who had shaped her life. Her radiant smile finally returned, luminous through her uncertainty. "So... you think I should go?"

"Yes," Stella said softly, her voice sure and proud. "I think you should go, my darling girl."

  ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

That night, in the quiet of their bedroom, the lamp on the nightstand glowed softly against the pale walls. Stella sat at her vanity, brushing out her long dark hair with the same regal grace she carried in every moment, while Johnny leaned back against the headboard, shirtless, arms folded across his chest with that familiar Cobra Kai swagger.

But his eyes—his eyes were soft, only ever that way for his wife and daughter.

"She's really thinking about going," Johnny said finally, his voice low but edged with the weight in his chest.

Stella set the brush down and turned, her silk robe falling elegantly at her sides. She crossed to the bed and slipped beside him, her hand finding his. "It's an incredible opportunity, Johnny. Boston University. A dream she's carried since she was a girl."

"I know," Johnny muttered, running a hand through his hair, frustration showing in the roughness of his tone. "I just... she's my little girl. My Princess. She's not supposed to be halfway across the damn country. She's supposed to be here—where I can keep an eye on her, make sure she's okay."

Stella tilted her head, her serene smile softening his edges. "You'll always keep an eye on her, Johnny. Even from Boston. She's strong, because of you. She's brave, because of you. And she knows she can always come home, because of us."

Johnny exhaled, the swagger slipping away as he stared at the woman beside him. "She's got your grace, y'know. Walks into a room and owns it, just like her mom. But she's got my fire too... and that scares the hell outta me."

Stella leaned against his shoulder, her voice tender. "It's what makes her Montana."

For a long moment, Johnny was quiet, then he pulled Stella closer, pressing a kiss to her hair. "If she leaves, I'm gonna miss her like crazy. Hell, I already do, and she hasn't even gone yet."

Stella's eyes glistened, though she kept her composure. "We'll both miss her. But we'll also be proud. We'll watch her step into the world with the same grace and strength we've always known she had."

Johnny gave a half-smile, shaking his head. "You always make it sound so damn easy."

She touched his cheek, her regal calm steadying him. "Because love makes it easier. And she knows how deeply she's loved."

Johnny caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm, his voice dropping to a rare softness. "She's my whole world, Stella. You both are."

And in the quiet of their bedroom, wrapped in candlelight and each other, Johnny allowed himself to feel what he rarely let show—the ache of a father letting go, and the fierce, irrevocable love of a man who had finally found his home.

  ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

The next day, Nathan and Jack were laying flooring in the living room of the newly remodeled ranch home. The scent of fresh-cut wood lingered in the air, the steady rhythm of hammers and the creak of boards filling the silence. Nathan glanced up from where he was setting a plank, catching the younger man's far-off look.

"You've been awful quiet," Nathan said in his calm, steady drawl. "Everything okay, son?"

Jack let out a long sigh, setting his hammer down beside him. His eyes, usually sharp with confidence, softened as he turned toward Nathan. "When did you realize you were in love with Mrs. Walker?"

Nathan's face gentled, a flicker of warmth passing through his eyes at the memory of his beloved Ava. "That's easy," he said, leaning back on his heels. "It was the moment I thought I'd never see her again. There was this terrible emptiness inside me. I knew that if I didn't get her back, nothing in this world would ever fill it. Not money, not land, not a single damn thing."

Jack's lips curved into a quiet smile. "That's a pretty clear sign."

"Yeah, I thought so," Nathan replied, his voice low, reverent. "Not a day goes by that I don't miss that beautiful soul. I guess that's why I love Montana so much. She reminds me of her grandma in the best ways—her spirit, her light." He looked at Jack meaningfully. "What about you? You got someone in your heart?"

Jack's entire expression shifted, softening with a depth he couldn't hide. He rested his hands on his knees, staring at the unfinished floor, a fond smile tugging at his mouth. "Yeah. I have. She's changed everything for me. Before Montana, I was just... existing. But now? She's given my life meaning, a purpose I didn't even know I was searching for." His voice grew quieter, but steadier. "She's strong-willed, passionate about what she wants. Compassionate, kind. And sometimes she confuses the hell outta me. But I wouldn't trade that for anything. I don't just love her, Nathan. I'm all in. She's it for me."

Nathan studied him for a long moment, the weight of his years and wisdom steady in his eyes. Finally, he nodded with a faint smile. "That doesn't sound like a problem, son. That sounds like the opportunity of a lifetime. Don't let fear talk you out of it."

Jack met his gaze, nodding. "Yeah." His voice carried a quiet conviction now.

"Anyway," Nathan said, shifting back to the task at hand, "have you thought about the buyer you want for this place?"

"Actually, yeah. I know Mr. and Mrs. Walsh are new in town, and they've made it pretty clear they don't like city living. I was gonna ask if they wanted to take the place off my hands."

"I think they'd like it," Nathan said.

Jack smiled, nodding, then bent back down to his work. But even as he hammered and measured, his mind wasn't on flooring or buyers. His thoughts never strayed far from the beautiful blonde who had captured his heart completely—the one woman he knew, without a doubt, he was meant to love for the rest of his life.