I understood, and we gave her time and space. Eventually, she started therapy, and we began discussing what “home” meant to both of us. Slowly, she started to let go of her fears. One day, she surprised me by showing me a listing. It wasn’t big or flashy, but it was ours,

and it felt right. A year later, we bought that house. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a place where Jane could finally feel free. She named a plant in the corner “Freedom,” because it was hers to choose. Now, when she looks around, she smiles with peace, knowing that this home is where she gets to stay—on her own terms.This home was a choice, not a trap.