and yet he believed that what it had become in the end mattered far more.
Three months later, I moved into the small house by the lake.
For the first few weeks, I could barely get used to the silence.
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Sometimes I would wake up in the morning and instinctively want to tell Richard something I had dreamed about or remembered from the previous day.
Then I would realize he was gone.
But over time, the house stopped being a symbol of inheritance and became a place where I could begin a new life.
I planted several flowers beside the porch.
I placed his favorite mug in the kitchen, the one I had once taken from our home.
And every evening, I went out onto the porch and looked at the water.
To this day, I keep the wooden box on the dresser in my bedroom.