Even now, recounting this story fills me with excitement. Do you remember the adage, “Find a self-driven partner, and life becomes effortless”? Indeed, I completely embraced this concept. My guy was the total charmer in our little village market, a smooth talker with a wink that lit up the place. We ran this cosy corner store, which was stocked with everyday goodies like soap and spices. Fast-forward three years, and we’re rolling in it like lottery winners.
Picture this: two shiny cars in the driveway, a swanky new pad smack in the city, and our kiddos acing classes at that ritzy private school. I chalked it up to his business wizardry at first; high-fives all around! But honestly? It bugged me. One teensy shop in the boonies raking in that kind of dough? Math didn’t add up, friend. Then, heartbreak city: our bright-eyed firstborn, that sweet 15-year-old bundle of joy, just… gone. Docs mumbled “sudden bug”, but my mama instincts screamed “nope”. It was all wrong. Post-funeral fog lifted a tad, and weird vibes crept in. I’d jolt awake at 2 a.m., the bed empty beside me. Or spot these eerie ash scribbles lurking behind the door. Continue Reading.