**Diary Entry**
The letter arrived on an oppressively hot afternoon, its edges tinged yellow with age. The envelope smelled of salt and sea airsomething indefinably nostalgic. My hands trembled as I tore it open. The neat, old-fashioned script was unmistakably Grandmother Evelyns. She had left me her housethe very one by the sea where Id spent every childhood summer.
My heart pounded, torn between joy and grief. I could almost feel the hot sand beneath my bare feet, hear the waves, and remember her soft hands welcoming me at the door.
I called Marcus immediately. His voice on the phone was distant, irritatedas though I were interrupting something far more important.
Marcus, I have to go, I began, forcing steadiness into my voice. Grandmother she left me the house. The one by the sea.
A pause.
That old wreck? His tone dripped with amusement.
Its not a wreck! I snapped. Its a historic house, full of character. You know I spent every summer there. My parents always sent me because Grandmother Evelyn adored me. She took me to the sea every day when I was little. And when I was older, Id run there with the neighbors kids. Wed pack sandwiches and fruit and stay out till dusksun, waves, laughter
How long will you be gone? His curt voice yanked me back to reality.
I dont know yet. Theres a lot to sort out. Its been yearssince my second year at university. Take some time off, come visit me. Its only a days drive.
Not exactly pining for the seaside, he said drily. Fine, Ill see what work allows.
His words hung heavily in the air. Hed seejust like always.
Three days later, I packed my bags, half-hoping Marcus would change his mind, kiss me goodbye, say hed miss me. But three hours before my train, he called.
Alice, sorry, I cant take you. Work emergency. Youll manage a taxi, right? His voice held a false note.
Of course, I said, swallowing the lump in my throat.
As the taxi wound through the city, my heart stopped. At a traffic light, I saw his car. And not just his carMarcus, my Marcus, helping a slender woman in a summer dress out of the passenger seat. They smiled at each other before heading into a café.
Stop, please! My voice shook.
I rushed inside. They were bent over a menu, fingertips nearly touching.
Hello, I said coldly. Busy, I see. Goodbye. Dont call again.
I turned and left before he could speak.
The journeyfirst by taxi, then by train, and finally another taxi down winding country roadswas a blur of anger and heartbreak.
At last, the taxi stopped before tall iron gates tangled with ivy. Here you are, the driver muttered before speeding off.
Silence. Thick and sweet with the scent of lavender and salt. I fumbled with the heavy antique keysGrandmothers giftuntil one clicked in the rusted lock. The gates groaned open, revealing the overgrown garden.
Inside, the house was vast, dusty, and eerily still. The grand staircase, the stained glass casting colored light on worn floorsit was all mine.
Thank you, Grandmother, I whispered.
Days passed in a whirlwind of cleaning. Then, a knock at the door.
Hello, Alice. Recognise me?
It was Mrs. HarrisAuntie Joanmother of my childhood friend, Lucy.
Auntie Joan! How did you know I was here?
Saw the gate open. My Zacharyremember him?hes moved back in with me after his divorce. Let me know if you need help.
Zachary arrived latertall, broad-shouldered, with sun-worn skin and a laugh that filled the empty house.
So, youre the one who stole our apples? he teased.
We spent the day cleaning, laughing. By evening, the crystal chandelier sparkled again.
Starving, he declared. Lets get dinner.
We ate at a seaside café, walked the shore, talked for hours.
That night, as I drifted off, my phone rang. Marcus.
Alice, I miss you. Im coming to visit
No, I said firmly. Were done.
I hung up, thinking of Zacharys honest smileand Grandmothers voice in my dream: *Make the right choice.*
Time passed.
The house came alive again. I moved for good, found remote work. Zachary and I married quietly on the terrace, the sea murmuring below.
Now, we stand together under the stars, my hand resting on the small swell of my belly.
Thank you, Grandmother, I whisper.
Somewhere inside, a crystal pendant chimes softly, as if in reply.
