Shaun stood beside you, scanning the empty apartment with a critical eye. The space was nice—clean, well-lit, with enough room for both of you. But something felt… off.

—“The kitchen is too small,” he said, arms crossed. “You like to cook. This won’t work.”

You huffed a small laugh, shaking your head.

This wasn’t the first place you had looked at. In fact, it felt like the tenth. Every time, something was either too expensive, too cramped, or, according to Shaun, “statistically unsafe.”

—“What about the last one?” he asked suddenly. “It had a bigger living room. You liked the view.”

You did, but he hadn’t seemed convinced at the time. Now, watching him think it over, you realized something—Shaun wasn’t just looking for a place to live. He was looking for a home.

—“It needs to be right,” he murmured, as if confirming your thoughts. “For both of us.”

There was something warm about the way he said it. Like he wasn’t just talking about furniture and square footage. He was talking about building a life together.

Maybe this apartment wasn’t it. Maybe you’d have to see a dozen more. But one thing was clear—no matter where you ended up, as long as he was there, it would feel like home.