Swapping a Broken Heart for a New Start novel Chapter 42

Aaron hurried after him, calling out, “Grandpa, where are you going?”

But the man didn’t answer. He just kept walking, his tall, dignified figure disappearing out the door.

He left the coffee shop and headed straight to the bakery next door, where little Lillian was sitting.

He knocked on her table—two gentle raps with his long, elegant fingers.

The charm on his leather bracelet swayed lightly with the motion, catching the sunlight and glinting right in front of Lillian’s curious eyes.

She looked up, instantly transfixed.

When she recognized the man standing there—her eyes grew wide and bright. She remembered him. He was the kind stranger who’d helped her the other day.

The man noticed the change in her expression. His voice was cool but kind, like a winter morning warmed by the sun.

“Do you remember me?” he asked.

Lillian nodded shyly.

He smiled, just a hint, and said softly, “Looks like we meet again. Is the cupcake good?”

She nodded again, and then, without a word, pushed her half-eaten cupcake toward him, wanting to share.

He shook his head, warm amusement flickering in his eyes. “No thanks, sweetie. You keep it.” He gently ruffled her hair. “Actually, I came to give you something…”

He placed a small object on the table in front of her.

Lillian peeked at it, her eyes lighting up the moment she realized it was a drawing—a bright, cheerful picture of herself.

So after giving her the drawing, he quietly slipped away, heading back to the coffee shop.

Moments later, Camila Davis bustled in, juggling a bunch of shiny balloons. She’d hurried back, her heart pounding—she’d glimpsed a tall stranger by her daughter’s table from across the street and had rushed over, worried for Lillian’s safety.

But when she got there, the man was already gone.

“Lillian!” she called, her voice trembling just a little.

Relief washed over her when she saw her daughter safe and sound.

Lillian’s face lit up when she saw her mom. She held up her precious drawing, beaming with pride.

“Mama, look! That’s me!” she chirped, her little voice sweet as honey.