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Three years after losing my husband in an unexpected work accident, I had learned how to survive for one reason alone—my six-year-old daughter, Maggie. She became the center of my world, the reason I woke up, worked hard, and kept going even when grief pressed heavily on my chest. Life moved forward slowly, unevenly, until Jacob entered our lives.
He was gentle, attentive, and patient, especially with Maggie. Watching her laugh again, watching her trust someone new, softened something in me that I thought had been permanently sealed. I told myself that love could return in a different form, that building something new didn’t mean erasing what I had lost.
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