As a single mother, I thought I’d hit rock bottom when my landlord, Mr. Peterson, kicked us out of our home for a week. He claimed his brother needed a place to stay, but I had nowhere to go. My three daughters, Lily, Emma, and Sophie, and I were forced to cram into a hostel across town.
The hostel was a far cry from our cozy home. The thin walls and constant noise made it difficult for the girls to sleep. Sophie, my youngest, was heartbroken without her beloved stuffed bunny, Mr. Floppy. I promised her I’d get it back, but I had no idea how.
That’s when I met Jack, Mr. Peterson’s brother. He was staying in our home, unaware of the circumstances that led to our eviction. When I explained our situation, Jack was appalled. He immediately offered to help me retrieve Mr. Floppy and even invited us to return home.
As we settled back into our routine, Jack continued to surprise us with his kindness. He fixed the leaky faucet, brought over groceries, and even helped with the girls’ homework. My daughters adored him, and I found myself drawn to his warm and caring nature.
As the weeks passed, Jack’s visits became more frequent. We’d have dinner together, and he’d regale us with stories of his adventures. The girls would laugh and giggle, and I’d find myself feeling like part of a family again.
One evening, as we sat on the porch, Jack turned to me with a serious expression. “I don’t want you and the girls to ever feel like you’re losing your home again,” he said. “I want to help you find something permanent.” My heart skipped a beat as he asked me to marry him.
A month later, we moved into a beautiful little house that Jack had found for us. The girls were overjoyed, and I felt like I’d finally found a sense of belonging. As we sat down to dinner that night, Jack took my hand, and I knew that we were home at last.
