The bell over the bakery door chimed, and Lena looked up from the mixer just in time to see her father step inside.
She blinked, nearly dropping the measuring cup in her hand. "Dad?"
Ben Hart was a tall, gruff man who rarely left his cabin since the stroke two years ago. He'd handed the bakery to Lena with little ceremony, trusting her to manage things but always keeping his distance. Seeing him there now, walking slowly with his cane but wearing a familiar, quiet smile—it was like a piece of her past clicking back into place.
"I heard there was a revolution happening in here," he said.
Lena came around the counter and hugged him tightly. "You could've called. I would've picked you up."
"I needed to see it with my own eyes."
He took in the bakery: the bustling lunch rush, the community bulletin board overflowing with thank-you notes, the framed article from the Greenville Gazette featuring Lena under the headline "The Woman Saving Main Street One Muffin at a Time."
She poured him a coffee and sat across from him at a corner table.
"I didn't expect you to come today," she admitted.
Ben sipped slowly, then looked her squarely in the eye. "Truth is, I didn't know if you needed me here anymore."
"Dad…"
"I watched you from a distance, Lena. I saw you take this place and make it yours. Not just the business—but the heart of it. The community. You've made it more than I ever did."
Lena's throat tightened. "You built this from nothing. You gave it to me."
"I gave you the bricks," he said. "You made it a home."
They sat in comfortable silence, watching customers come and go. Ava waved from the register. A little girl pointed excitedly at a tray of sugar cookies shaped like hearts and cupcakes.
Lena finally spoke. "We got board approval. Walker's working on the partnership deal. If it all goes through… this could be the first of many Hart & Hearth locations."
Ben arched an eyebrow. "You planning to be a big-city cupcake queen?"
She laughed. "I'm planning to do it the way it should be done. Slow. Real. Every new location has to mean something. It can't just be about profit."
Ben nodded. "Then you're already ahead of the game."
Just then, the door opened again, and Walker walked in, holding a bag of fresh produce from the farmer's market. He froze when he saw Ben.
"Mr. Hart."
Ben gave him a once-over. "So you're the suit who's trying to marry my daughter's muffins with Wall Street."
Walker smiled, unphased. "Only if she'll have me."
Ben chuckled. "She's always been stubborn. If she hasn't thrown a scone at you yet, you're probably doing alright."
Lena rolled her eyes, but her cheeks warmed. Walker walked over and placed a kiss on her temple before sitting beside her.
As the three of them talked, the bakery hummed around them—whisks spinning, coffee brewing, laughter rising.
It was exactly as Lena had dreamed.
And for the first time, her past, her present, and her future were all sitting at the same table.