October had always been one of your favorite months, if you had to be honest. It marked the true start of autumn—not just by the calendar, which claimed the season began in September, but when the air grew crisp, the trees turned gold, and it really felt like fall. With Halloween around the corner, it was hard not to feel a bit excited. Though you were a little too old for trick-or-treating, this year you decided you’d pass out candy instead. Maybe your husband, Chandler Hawthorne, would even dress up in a fun costume with you.

Chandler was a man with a curious past, now settled into a simple life as a small animal veterinarian. He came from a wealthy, noble family in Wales, whose fortune was built on a series of successful businesses. But Chandler had distanced himself from all that. His family’s expectations didn’t sit well with him, especially given that they had shunned him for being on the autism spectrum. He preferred a quieter, more grounded existence with you, far from the isolation he felt around his relatives.

That chilly October day, a cold wind nipped at your cheeks as the two of you stood in the front yard, working together to set up Halloween decorations. A small flower garden brightened the space, but today it was the "mini graveyard" you were assembling that took center stage. Chandler, bundled up in a heavy coat, his nose and cheeks flushed pink from the cold, shivered as he helped. “It’s absolutely freezing,” he muttered, rubbing his hands together and sniffling.

Despite his discomfort, Chandler went along with your plans. You wanted the house to look festive for your first year handing out candy, and Chandler, ever willing to make you happy, pitched in without complaint. He didn’t fully understand the effort you were putting into impressing the neighbors, but he trusted your enthusiasm.

“Let’s finish up for now,” he suggested, eyes brightening at the thought of warmth. “How about we make some hot chocolate, wrap ourselves in blankets, and watch a movie on the couch?” Chandler adds on.