A wraparound porch holds a two-seater swing chair, the deck trailing around to patio doors that lead into the main bedroom.
Inserting the key, I open the door, letting her inside first.
The house isn’t what it looked like back when she was watching it. It’s been ripped apart again, changed to what she put in her scrapbook, down to the color key she put together in the corner. The kitchen is a mix of oak wood and olive green, with a huge family table set to the side to have breakfast and lunch around. This front space is completely open plan, so the kitchen flows into the living room where oak and creams dominate. An open stone fireplace takes center stage, an L-shaped sofa set in front of it with love chairs in the corners and shelves filled with the books I’ve seen her read over the years. The windows look out onto the backyard and patio.
“This is exactly how I pictured it,” she whispers, her fingers trailing over the furniture as she opens the door just off the kitchen that reveals a formal dining area.
“Noah,” she turns to me, “Tell me you didn’t.”
“I can’t.” My fingers curl into my palms.
She opens her mouth to say something but closes it quickly, moving past me to follow the hall down to the bedrooms. She opens the first door. A guest suite with its own bathroom, and then on to the next. An office with an oversized desk and a wall full of shelves.
All the rooms she has pinned in her scrapbook.
She hesitates when she gets to the next door, tears glistening in her eyes.
“You did this,” she whispers before she opens the door, revealing a nursery, a quiet lullaby playing from a small speaker beside the white crib. Perhaps it was presumptuous of me, but this place has been here for her from the moment I was able to give it to her. Back then, I’m not sure I thought it would be for us, but I would have given it to her anyway.
She moves to the next room—a spare that could be turned into a child’s room, and the one beside it is the same, and then beside that is the family bathroom. Across the hall is the main bedroom which she disappears into.
The room matches the rest of the house: oak and creams with splashes of color throughout. French doors lead out onto the porch, giving a view of the woods and the rolling meadows surrounding it.
“You bought this place,” she says, turning to me.
“I did,” I confirm. “It took some back and forth, but you wanted it.”
“Noah…”
“I bought this place for you. A place for your future. Back then, it wasn’t for us, even if I wanted it to be. I bought it because this is whereyousaw yourself. A family around you, your sister close but the city within reach. The house is yours, Sidney. A gift and you just need to sign the deed whenever you’re ready.”
“You bought me a house!?” She shrieks.
“With a white picket fence. I figured you’d want to pick out your own dog.”
“Holy shit, Noah.”
I follow behind her as she walks through the house again, toward the patio doors that lead out into the backyard. There’s a seating area for outdoor dining and a hot tub. I’ve been paying gardeners and house staff to look after the place since it was empty, and they’ve kept it together. Sidney could move in tomorrow if she wanted to.
“Why did you do this?”
“I have one more thing to show you,” I say instead of answering.
Opening the back door, I step out into the yard and follow the path that disappears around the side of the house, toward an area that can’t be seen through the windows. It’s a small log cabin, and I pull out the key to unlock it, opening it up for her to step inside.
She hesitates at the door, her eyes on me, but then she steps over the threshold, slipping inside. I hear her gasp from here, and I know exactly what she is seeing.
It’s a replica of the trailer we fixed up and used to hang out in, down to the fairy lights and cushions set up on a low-framed bed and mattress. Old posters arehanging on the walls, a stack of books set up on the table, spines worn with use and time.
“This is the trailer,” she breathes.
“Well, kind of,” I agree, “It’s our place.”
“Why, Noah?”
“Do you know when I knew I loved you?” I ask her.
She shakes her head, hands fidgeting in front of her.
