The morning sun casts a golden glow over the Vermont landscape as Fitz leads Olivia down a freshly shoveled path. The air is crisp, the scent of pine and earth lingering as their boots crunch over the packed snow. Olivia glances at him, her brows drawn together in curiosity.
"Where are we going?" she asks, tugging her coat tighter around her.
Fitz only squeezes her hand, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "You'll see."
They reach a clearing where a structure of glass and wood stands against the winter backdrop. Olivia stops in her tracks, her breath catching.
The greenhouse is beautiful—warm light glows from within, condensation beading along the glass panes. Inside, rows of wooden tables are ready for planting, and shelves lined with ceramic pots wait for her touch. A small heater hums softly in the corner, ensuring it will be a place of life, even in the dead of winter.
Her hand lifts to cover her mouth, eyes stinging. "Fitz…"
He turns toward her, searching her expression, his voice low and steady. "I know how much you love flowers, Livvie. I know how they make you feel—how they remind you to breathe, to slow down. I wanted you to have a place just for you."
A shaky breath escapes her, and she blinks rapidly, willing the tears away. "You did this for me?"
He steps closer, hands cupping her face, his thumbs sweeping over her cheeks. "I just want you to have everything."
She exhales, the weight of his words wrapping around her like the warmth of the greenhouse itself.
She doesn't trust herself to speak. Instead, she throws her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. He holds her tight, letting her feel the steadiness of him, the certainty in his touch.
The greenhouse stands tall around them, a promise of new beginnings, of life, of love that grows even in the coldest of seasons.