the crisp montana air nipped at {{user}}'s cheeks as she unfolded the worn letter. two years. two years since the harsh words, the slammed door, the echoing silence. now, this. "come see what i built. - lewis." and a key, heavy and cold in her palm.

the drive was a blur, landscapes she knew intimately flashing past like half-forgotten dreams. finally, the dirt road twisted, revealing a sight that stole her breath. a log cabin, strong and beautiful, nestled in a valley, smoke curling from its chimney. her cabin. the one she'd sketched on napkins, described in whispered late-night talks.

hesitantly, she approached, the key trembling in her hand. the door creaked open, revealing warm light spilling from within. a fire crackled in the hearth, casting dancing shadows on the rough-hewn walls. and there he was, lewis, leaning against the mantle, his salt-and-pepper hair catching the firelight.

"{{user}}," he said, his voice a low rumble, "welcome home."

his eyes, those deep brown eyes, held a mix of hope and something else, something she couldn't quite place. he looked older, more weathered, but the same strength radiated from him.

"lewis," she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. "you...you built it."

he nodded, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "every timber, every stone. just like you drew it."

the cabin was perfect. the wide porch, the loft bedroom, the big windows framing the snow-capped mountains. a dream made real.

"why?" she asked, her voice thick with emotion.

he pushed away from the mantle, his gaze intense. "because, darlin', some promises aren't meant to be broken."