For her, this house wasn’t just about walls and windows. It was about family birthdays celebrated in the dining room, Christmas mornings with coffee and cinnamon in the air, and evenings of laughter filling the living room.
For me, the vision was quieter but just as vivid. I imagined the backyard strung with soft lights, the smell of burgers on the grill, and the sound of music floating into the night. I pictured myself in the garage, tools scattered, sawdust in the air, building something with my own hands.
The Gentle Gravity of a New Beginning
Some fresh starts arrive with fanfare. Ours came softly — in the way sunlight filtered through a bare window, in the creak of a hallway floor, in the warmth of possibility.
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