“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
He stopped, still clutching a bundle of vines, and looked at her. His eyes were bright with unshed tears of frustration and shame.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you better than this.”
Adeline walked over and took his face in her hands.
“You beat cancer. You’re alive. You’re here with me. Everything else is just details.”
“Details?” He gave a short, bitter laugh. “Addy, we’re living in a shack people are photographing so they can laugh at us.”
“For now,” she said.
Then she lowered her voice.
“But I still feel it, Silas. I still feel like this place is special. Like we’re supposed to be here. Trust me, please.”
He looked into her eyes and saw the certainty there.
“Okay,” he said finally. “Okay. But I’m going to need you to be right about this, because I can’t take much more humiliation.”
“I’m right,” Adeline said with a confidence she hoped was real. “I promise.”
They went back to work, ignoring the last of the onlookers until eventually everyone got bored and drifted away.
By late afternoon they had cleared most of the vines from the exterior, and the full shape of the structure emerged. It was tiny, yes. Weathered and old, absolutely. But it was also solidly built, with careful craftsmanship visible in the joinery and the way the boards fit together.
Inside, Adeline had swept away years of dirt and debris, revealing a wooden floor that was surprisingly intact beneath the grime. Once she wiped down part of the wall beneath the carved initials, she found something else.
“Silas,” she called. “Come look at this.”
He ducked inside.
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