The ride home was quiet, our fingers intertwined, smiles dancing on our faces from memories we were still soaking in. At home, everything felt the same, but we were different. We started doing the small things differently. I’d wake her with gentle kisses and coffee in bed when I could. She’d surprise me with my favorite home-cooked meals and those warm, healing hugs at the end of long workdays. We’d light candles in the l...