The house was stunning.
Stone exterior.
Floor-to-ceiling windows.
A long, quiet pool.
A walk-in closet larger than my first apartment.
Everything about it felt like life finally saying: you’ve endured enough.
I bought it outright.
No loans.
No partners.
No help.
But every time someone mentioned it, Adrián would smile and say:
“We finally got the house of our dreams.”
We.
He always knew how to use that word to claim what he never built. And I—out of exhaustion or misplaced love—let it slide.
Until that night.
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