AVA'S POV
Breakfast was perfect. The staff had clearly helped, fluffy pancakes with cream, fruit parfaits, warm croissants, and the perfect vanilla latte.
We talked, laughed, reminisced about our first awkward mornings together, and for the first time, I felt like I wasn't chasing time.
But that was only the beginning.
"We're not done yet," Ethan said as we cleared our plates.
I tilted my head. "No?"
"Come with me."
He took my hand, guiding me inside. Each room had been touched with little pieces of me. A flower I loved here. A memory board of our journey there. He'd gotten the domestic staff to print photos from moments I hadn't even realized had been captured.
There was one of me giving a speech in Nairobi, another of Ethan tying my shoelace before a press conference. And one I hadn't seen before, me sitting at my desk, chin in hand, staring dreamily out the window. A candid. Soft. Unaware.
"How did you get all these?" I asked, a lump forming in my throat.
