Elle Lee In Good Hands - [extra Quality]

“Patricia gave me your address,” he said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “Before you protest—this isn’t a house call. This is a neighbor bringing soup.” He set the bag on her kitchen counter. “My grandmother’s recipe. Good for inflammation. Also good for the soul, or so she claims.”

“Dr. Kael?” she said, startled. “How did you know where I live?” elle lee in good hands

Elle forced a smile. “Just a little cramp. Let’s take five.” “Patricia gave me your address,” he said, stepping

Elle felt something crack open in her chest—not painfully, but like ice giving way to spring. She looked at his hands, resting on the arm of his chair. They were strong and careful, the hands of a surgeon, but also gentle. Hands that had held hers steady during her worst moments. Hands that asked nothing in return. “My grandmother’s recipe

And on a quiet Saturday morning, Marcus proposed not with a grand gesture, but with a small velvet box over breakfast. “You’ve spent your whole life making sure everyone else is in good hands,” he said, smiling. “I’d like to make sure you are too. Forever.”