I bought the beach house with my husband’s inheritance, thinking I would finally have some peace. Then the phone rang. “Mom, we’re all going this summer… but you can stay in the back room,” my son said. I smiled and replied, “Of course.”
Six months after Javier’s death, I bought a small beach house in Cádiz — the quiet retirement dream we once shared but never reached together. Renovating it became my way of starting over. For the first time in years, the sound of the sea felt like peace instead of loneliness. Then my son Álvaro called…
