The search started quickly. His car was found abandoned near a wooded area, with his belongings still inside, but there was no sign of him. Days turned into weeks, then months, and eventually the searches slowed until they stopped altogether. Officially, my husband remained missing. Unofficially, people began to speak as though he were gone for good. I learned how to keep moving for our children school events, routines, birthdays while carrying a constant ache that never truly faded. I couldn’t pack away his clothes or clear the space he left behind. Hope stayed with me quietly, not as something dramatic, but as small habits and unfinished goodbyes. Through it all, our dog Max stayed close, often sitting by the door as if he were waiting for something none of us could see.
