Howard, if you’re reading this, choose love. Choose belonging. Choose the family that chose me when ours no longer could.
There was only one decision left.
When I returned to the beach house, Marcus and Diana’s cars were already in the driveway. Through the window, I saw them standing stiffly in the kitchen while Maria poured coffee.
The tension was suffocating.
“Dad, you need to come home with us,” Diana said. “These people—”
“Stop,” I said firmly. “Sit down.”
They obeyed reluctantly.
I placed Julie’s letters on the table.
“This,” I said, “is your mother’s truth. The truth you kept from me.”
Their faces drained of color.
When I finished reading, Diana was crying. Marcus stared at the floor.
“This house belongs to Maria now,” I said calmly.
Silence.
“You’re giving everything away?” Diana asked.
“No,” I replied. “I’m honoring your mother’s wishes.”
They left shortly afterward—angry, shaken, powerless.
That night, sitting on the porch with the ocean whispering nearby, I finally understood.
Julie hadn’t just built a house.
She built a home—out of love, compassion, and second chances.
