The keys to the beach house felt heavy in my hand—not from weight, but from possibility. This was mine. Entirely mine. No compromises, no opinions to consider except my own. The salt-kissed air rushed past me as I pushed open the door, the empty rooms echoing with potential.
I walked through the bare space, my fingers trailing along the walls, already imagining the colors they would wear. Soft, grey and sky blue? Or maybe something bolder, like the deep turquoise of the ocean at dusk? I smiled. I’ll decide later. Every choice would be mine, down to the smallest detail.
The living room was bathed in golden afternoon light, and I tilted my head up, picturing a chandelier—something delicate but striking, like crystal droplets catching the sun. Not the kind you’d find in a showroom, but
