A wealthy tycoon made his son tie the knot with a down-to-earth farmer as a tough lesson. But he was blown away by what his son pulled off…

Inside, the warmth of the house felt almost surreal after the chaos of the storm. They stood in the entryway, dripping water onto the floor, both of them too tired to speak for a moment. Thank you, Emma said quietly, breaking the silence, for helping.

Richard, still catching his breath, shrugged. I didn’t really have a choice, did I? Emma gave a small smile, one of the first he had seen since he’d arrived. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make something inside him shift again, that slow, creeping sense that maybe, just maybe, they were beginning to understand each other.

I’ll get a fire started, Richard said, surprising himself. He wasn’t sure why he offered, but after weeks of working beside Emma, he had picked up enough about how to survive here that it didn’t feel like an impossible task. As the fire crackled in the small living room, the storm continued to beat against the windows.

Richard sat across from Emma, the warmth from the fire slowly thawing his cold, aching limbs. For a while, neither of them spoke, the silence between them comfortable for the first time. It was like this when my father died, Emma said suddenly, her voice soft, almost lost in the sound of the fire.

Richard looked up, caught off guard by the shift in tone. A storm, I mean, it tore through the farm, just like today. We lost half the crops that year.

Richard wasn’t sure how to respond. He had never really asked Emma about her life before he came here. He had been too wrapped up in his own misery to care.

But now, hearing her talk about her father, he realized how little he actually knew about the person sitting across from him. How old were you? He asked quietly. 23, Emma replied, her eyes fixed on the flames.

He had been sick for a while, but it still felt sudden. One minute he was here and the next, everything was gone. It was just me trying to keep the farm going.

Richard leaned back, processing her words. He had always thought of the farm as a burden, something his father had forced upon him. But for Emma, it was her legacy, her responsibility.

She had fought for this place alone and had managed to keep it going through sheer will. I didn’t realize, Richard admitted, his voice low. I mean, I didn’t think about what this place meant to you.

I’ve been so focused on how much I hate being here that I never stopped to think about what it’s been like for you. Emma’s gaze softened, her eyes meeting his. I didn’t expect you to, she said, her voice gentle but firm.

You weren’t sent here because you wanted to be, but that doesn’t mean you can’t learn to care about it. They sat in silence again, the weight of her words sinking in. Richard wasn’t sure what to say.

He wasn’t even sure what he felt. All he knew was that something had shifted between them, something small but significant. For the first time, he saw Emma not just as the woman he had been forced to marry, but as someone who had survived her own battles, someone who had fought for her place in the world.

And for the first time, he realized that maybe, just maybe, he could fight for something too. The days following the storm were quieter, more reflective. The air still smelled of rain, the fields still soaked from the downpour, but the farm had survived, and so had Richard and Emma.

For Richard, something had changed during that storm. The backbreaking labor, the endless tasks, and the grueling days no longer felt like punishment, at least not in the way they had before. He was still exhausted by the end of every day, still unsure of where he fit in this strange new life.

But there was a growing sense that maybe, just maybe, he could handle it. Then came the phone call from his father. It had been nearly two months since Henry had last spoken to him, since he’d sent Richard off to Vermont like a child being punished.

Richard had expected a check-in much sooner, but his father had remained silent. Until now. Emma was outside when Richard answered the phone, wiping his hands on his jeans as he glanced through the kitchen window.

His father’s voice was crisp and businesslike, as it always was, with none of the warmth one might expect from a father speaking to his son. Richard, Henry said, not bothering with small talk. How’s life on the farm? Richard hesitated, unsure how to respond.

It’s fine, he replied cautiously. What’s this about, dad? There was a pause on the other end of the line, the kind of pause that Richard had learned to dread. His father was calculating, always planning his next move, always one step ahead.

And Richard knew that whatever was about to come next wasn’t just a casual check-in. I have an offer for you, Henry said finally, his voice smooth. You’ve been out there long enough.

I think it’s time for you to come home. Richard’s heart pounded in his chest. He had been waiting for this, waiting for the moment when his father would call him back, offer him a way out…