“Thank you for giving me the chance to do this,” she says quietly. “You basically let me design my dream home.” This is her dream home, and that’s the whole fucking point. I don’t know how she hasn’t put the pieces together yet, but that’s the final and most important reason why I won’t sell. Six years ago, even after things fell apart between us, I bought this house for her. It’s everything she told me she wanted, and there was a part of me that hoped if both it and I were here waiting for her, she’d somehow find her way home.
