Chapter 7 - The River Gave Us Back More Than It Took
One year later, I returned to the same riverbank.
But everything had changed.
The abandoned pier was gone.
In its place stood a small waterfront rescue center.
Life jackets.
Emergency phones.
Floodlights.
River safety equipment.
Free swimming lessons for local children.
A plaque near the entrance read:
THE NOAH MERCER RIVER SAFETY FOUNDATION
Noah hated the name.
“It makes me sound dead.”
“You’re not wrong,” I said.
Gideon frowned.
“I paid for the sign.”
“That doesn’t make the name better.”
Noah pointed at me.
“See?”
Gideon looked betrayed.
“I’m surrounded by critics.”
“You’ll survive.”
The opening ceremony ended shortly before sunset.
Families left.
Reporters disappeared.
Security remained discreetly nearby.
Gideon had changed.
He still owned hotels, docks, warehouses, trucking companies and more Savannah real estate than I could count.
People still lowered their voices when discussing him.
But the criminal empire was being dismantled piece by piece.
Some people called it weakness.
Gideon called it retirement planning.
I called it fatherhood.
Noah ran ahead toward the pier.
“Not near the edge!” Gideon shouted.
Noah turned.
“I have a life jacket!”
“Not the point.”
“You’re paranoid!”
“Yes.”
Noah looked at me.
“Help.”
“You’re on your own.”
He groaned dramatically.
Then ran toward Marcus.
Gideon watched him go.
“He’s getting too confident.”
“Wonder where he learned that.”
Gideon looked at me.
“You.”
“Definitely you.”
He smiled.
A year ago, I hadn’t known Gideon Mercer could smile.
Now I knew several versions.
The polite business smile.
The irritated smile.
The rare laugh Noah could pull from him.
And the quiet one he only seemed to use around me.
He reached into his jacket.
I immediately narrowed my eyes.
“No.”
“You don’t know what I’m doing.”
“You’re reaching into an expensive jacket while looking nervous. Nothing good happens after that.”
He pulled out a small box.
“Gideon.”
“Before you say anything, this isn’t repayment.”
“You promise?”
“Yes.”
He opened it.
A ring.
Simple.
Elegant.
No ridiculous diamond large enough to finance a small country.
I stared at him.
“Hannah Carter.”
“You remembered my last name. Progress.”
He ignored me.
“A year ago, you jumped into freezing water for a child you didn’t know.”
I looked toward Noah.
“He needed help.”
“You challenged me before you could stand without fainting.”
“You were annoying.”
“I was terrified.”
That surprised me.
Gideon looked toward the river.
“I thought I was going to lose him.”
His voice became quieter.
“Then you appeared.”
“I didn’t fix everything.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“You made me realize everything needed fixing.”
I said nothing.
He continued.
“You refused my money.”
“Yes.”
“My job offer.”
“Yes.”
“My security.”
“Mostly.”
“My attempts to make your life easier.”
“Those were particularly irritating.”
He smiled.
“But you stayed.”
“That wasn’t because of your money.”
“I know.”
“Or your mansion.”
“I know.”
“Or your reputation.”
“I definitely know.”
He took my hand.
“So I have nothing left to offer except myself.”
I looked at him.
“That’s terrifying.”
“Hannah.”
I laughed.
Then he asked quietly:
“Marry me.”
Behind us, Noah shouted.
“SAY YES!”
Gideon closed his eyes.
“You were supposed to stay with Marcus.”
“I can still hear!”
I laughed harder.
Gideon looked at his son.
“You ruined the moment.”
“No, I improved it.”
Marcus stood twenty feet away pretending to study the river.
I looked back at Gideon.
“One condition.”
His eyebrows rose.
“Only one?”
“Family dinner every night you’re home.”
“Agreed.”
“No phones.”
He grimaced.
“Hannah.”
“No phones.”
“Fine.”
“And fishing twice a month.”
“That’s unreasonable.”
“Gideon.”
“Once.”
“Twice.”
He stared at me.
I stared back.
Noah yelled, “JUST AGREE!”
Gideon sighed.
“Twice.”
I smiled.
“Then yes.”
For perhaps the first time in his adult life, Gideon Mercer looked completely speechless.
Noah wasn’t.
“She said yes!”
He sprinted toward us.
Gideon barely had time to stand before Noah crashed into him.
I joined them.
Behind us, the Savannah River moved quietly beneath the evening sky.
One year earlier, that water had nearly taken Noah away.
Instead, somehow, it had brought three people together who hadn’t realized how much they needed one another.
Noah looked at my bracelet.
The little river charm caught the sunset.
“Remember what I told you that night?” he asked.
“What?”
“That you should leave before Dad came.”
I smiled.
“I remember.”
He looked at Gideon.
“Good thing she didn’t.”
Gideon slipped his arm around me.
“Yes.”
His voice was quiet.
May you like
“Best thing that ever happened to us.”
And this time, I didn’t argue.
