That house became our shared project. We painted the walls a soft ocean blue, even though the nearest beach was hours away. We disagreed on decorations, laughed late into the night, and slowly filled the rooms with pieces of ourselves. It was never just a building — it was proof of his strength, his quiet optimism, and the love we created together.
He used to say, “This will be our forever place.” I’d joke that forever was too big for one address. But when he passed unexpectedly, that little house became the last piece of him I had. I promised myself I’d keep everything as it was. The house became more than a home — it became a heartbeat.
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