CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The air is crisp as I step back to admire our handiwork. The cabin stands proudly against the backdrop of dense forest, the setting sun casting a warm glow on its newly thatched roof. Alex drives the last nail into the sturdy wooden door frame with a satisfying thud, his muscles flexing beneath the fabric of his shirt.
"Looks like we're done," he says, swiping a bead of sweat from his brow, his voice tinged with pride.
I nod, my heart heavy despite the accomplishment. "Yeah, it's perfect," I murmur, more to myself than to him.
The cabin – Alex’s new home – is the epitome of rustic charm, built by our own hands over weeks of hard labor. Its completion marks more than just a building project; it signifies the end of our time together. The renovations at River Run are c
