When my husband told me he was leaving for a year-long work project in Norway, I believed him completely. So imagine my shock when I walked into a small bakery in the neighboring town and found him there, laughing and holding hands with someone I never expected.
I’ve always been passionate about my work as a graphic designer. There’s something deeply satisfying about creating beautiful things from nothing, and about turning a client’s scattered ideas into something cohesive and powerful.
My little home office overlooks the garden, and I spend most of my days there, headphones on, completely absorbed in whatever project is demanding my attention.
I’m grateful for the life I’ve built.
Really, truly grateful.
My parents are the kind of people who still send handwritten birthday cards and call just to check in. They live about 45 minutes away in the neighboring town. It’s a charming little place where everyone knows everyone else’s business.
My sister Emily lives there too, in a cute apartment above the flower shop on Main Street.
We don’t see each other as often as we probably should.
Life gets busy, you know? Between work deadlines and daily responsibilities, weeks can slip by without a proper visit.
Five years ago, I married Liam in my parents’ backyard.
Liam worked in tech consulting, always chasing the next big opportunity. He was ambitious, driven, and I admired that about him.
Even when his projects kept him traveling more than I would have liked, I supported his dreams.
But everything changed about a year ago.
Liam came home one evening with news that would reshape our entire life.
“Stacey, you’re not going to believe this,” he said. “I just got offered the opportunity of a lifetime.”
I looked up from my laptop, where I’d been working on a logo design. “What kind of opportunity?”
“A year-long project in Norway.
Top secret stuff. Government contracts. The kind of work that could set us up for life.”
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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