He had set it up in the small sitting room.
Not the formal one. The one at the back of the estate that caught the morning light and had the comfortable chairs and low table that felt like somewhere a person could breathe.
Callum was already there when Rosie came through the door.
He stood up immediately.
She stopped in the doorway.
They looked at each other.
Then she crossed the room and he went down on one knee and she put her arms around his neck.
He closed his eyes.
His arms came around her and he held on with the specific grip of someone who had been waiting for this moment for months.
Damon stood in the doorway and watched them.
He had planned to leave them to it. Give them privacy. That was the right thing.
But he couldn't move.
He just stood there and watched a man hold his daughter and felt something in his own chest that he didn't have a name for.
Rosie pulled back eventually.
Looked at her father's face.
"You look tired," she said.
"I'm okay," Callum said.
