As the months passed, Ava blossomed, speaking confidently, sleeping peacefully, and laughing frequently.
Michael also changed, coming home earlier, cooking, and learning to listen instead of trying to fix everything.
One afternoon, while they were planting flowers, Ava said, « Mom is gone, but the love stayed, » and Michael cried uncontrollably.
The affection between Michael and Paige grew slowly, based on respect, until Ava asked one night if they were a family yet.
They married a year later in the garden, with Ava scattering petals and saying that families are built with care, not just names.
The once silent house was filled with life again, demonstrating that healing comes slowly, guided by patience, honesty, and unexpected love.
After the wedding, life didn’t immediately become perfect, but the silence that once weighed on the house was replaced by small, constant, and deeply human sounds.
Ava began asking questions every morning, simple questions about the sun, breakfast, and why people leave but love doesn’t always disappear.
Michael learned that healing did not mean forgetting, but allowing memory to coexist with hope without turning each day into a silent farewell.
Paige maintained her calm way of being present, without imposing, without forcing, leaving space for each emotion to find its own rhythm.
Some nights, Ava would wake up crying, calling for her mother, and Michael would freeze, afraid he wouldn’t know what to say without breaking something fragile.
Paige never intervened first, but when Ava sought her out, she would sit by the bed and gently say that love is not lost when someone leaves.
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