Flo woke early, the sky outside his window painted in soft hues of lavender and gold. The house was quiet, but the weight that had settled over it in recent weeks felt lighter. He sat at the edge of his bed, taking a deep breath, and let the calm seep into his chest. Today was the day—the anniversary of Alex’s death—and for the first time, it didn’t feel like a burden he couldn’t bear.

  As he moved through his morning routine, Flo found himself reflecting. The man he saw in the mirror wasn’t the same person who had been shattered by loss two years ago. He had learned to carry Alex’s memory with him, not as a weight but as a part of himself. The grief was still there, but it no longer consumed him. And alongside it, there was something new: hope.

  Paul arrived mid-morning, arms full of decorations and a box of Alex’s favorite records. “We’re going to make this a proper celebration,” he said with a determined smile. “She’d hate it if we didn’t.”

  Flo chuckled softly, helping Paul set up. They hung photos of Alex—snapshots of her radiant smile, her adventures, her quiet moments. Paul shared a memory as they worked, his voice tinged with nostalgia. “Do you remember that time she dragged us both to that karaoke bar?”

  Flo laughed, the memory vivid. “She was terrible, but she owned it.”

  Paul grinned. “She had this way of making you feel like the world could be a little brighter, even if it was just for a moment.”

  For a moment, they stood in silence, letting the memory wash over them. Flo placed a hand on Paul’s shoulder. “Thanks for doing this. I don’t think I could have gotten through today without you.”

  Paul squeezed his arm. “You’re not alone, Flo. You never were.”

  Guests trickled in throughout the afternoon—friends, family, and coworkers who had known Alex in different ways. The apartment buzzed with quiet conversations and shared laughter. Flo moved among them, greeting each person, listening to their stories about Alex. For the first time, he felt connected to the love she had left behind rather than lost in her absence.

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  Near the end of the gathering, Flo stood by the small table where Alex’s photo was displayed alongside a flickering candle. He cleared his throat, drawing the room’s attention. “Thank you all for being here today,” he began, his voice steady but full of emotion. “Alex was… she was one of a kind. She brought light into every room, every life she touched. And while we’ve all had to find our own ways to navigate the loss of her, I’m reminded today that she’s still with us. In our memories. In the ways she shaped us. And in the love she left behind.”

  He paused, glancing at Dave, who stood quietly in the corner, his gaze unwavering. “I’ve spent a lot of time feeling like I needed to choose between holding onto Alex or moving forward. But I’m starting to understand that it doesn’t have to be one or the other. She’d want us to live, to find joy, to keep her with us in the best ways.”

  The room was silent, the weight of his words settling over the gathered crowd. Then, one by one, they raised their glasses in a toast to Alex.

  As the evening wound down, the apartment grew quiet again. Paul had left after helping with the cleanup, and the last guests had just departed. Flo stood in the kitchen, rinsing the last of the glasses, when Dave approached. He didn’t say anything, just wrapped his arms around Flo from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder.

  “You okay?” Dave asked softly.

  Flo leaned into the embrace, closing his eyes. “I think so. For the first time in a long time, I actually think I’m okay.”

  Dave turned him around, searching his face. “You were incredible today. I know how hard it was for you to do this.”

  “It was,” Flo admitted. “But I needed to. I needed to remember her in a way that wasn’t just about the pain.” He reached up, cupping Dave’s face. “And I needed to remind myself that it’s okay to be happy again. That it doesn’t mean I’m letting her go… just that I’m letting myself live.”

  Dave’s eyes softened, and he pulled Flo into a tender kiss. “I’m proud of you. And I’ll be here, wherever this journey takes you.”

  Later that night, after Dave had gone to bed, Flo stood by the window, looking out at the quiet street below. He held one of Alex’s photos in his hand, her smile as radiant as he remembered. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For everything.”

  Placing the photo back on the shelf, he turned off the light and walked toward the bedroom. Dave was waiting, his steady presence a reminder that life could hold both sorrow and joy, past and future, love lost and love found.

  As Flo climbed into bed, he felt a sense of peace he hadn’t known in years. He took Dave’s hand in his own, their fingers intertwining. And as he drifted off to sleep, he carried with him the quiet certainty that Alex’s memory and Dave’s love could coexist, shaping a future that was, at last, his to embrace.