The heavy wooden bed we had slept in for sixteen years had been dismantled.
The dresser had been moved.
The thick rug was gone.
In its place stood a hospital-style adjustable bed beside our original mattress, both positioned beneath the window.
A walker waited against the wall.A small table held gauze, thermometers, medical gloves, and neatly organized supplies.
But none of that was what stopped me.
It was the photographs.
Dozens of them.
Gavin had covered one entire wall.
Our wedding.
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