She was about to donate her late husband’s old coat when she found a key and a piece of paper with an address in the pocket. What she found there…

It was Roger’s favorite, a tweed coat he wore on practically all special occasions during the fall and winter. A gift from Martha on their 20th wedding anniversary, the coat had aged like fine wine. Each wear mark told a story.

Holding the coat against her chest, Martha allowed herself, for the first time in weeks, to cry openly. Deep sobs shook her body as the faint scent of Roger still embedded in the fabric evoked a flood of memories. When she finally calmed down, she noticed something strange in the inner pocket.

She slid her hand in and found a small brass key, along with a folded piece of paper. On the paper, written in Roger’s distinctive handwriting, Acacia Street, 278. Martha sat on the edge of the bed, confused.

She didn’t recognize the address, and the key didn’t look like any they owned. Then, like lightning, the memory hit her. On the morning of the day Roger passed away, he had called her at the hospital, his voice brimming with enthusiasm.

I have a surprise for you, my love. Something we’ve been talking about for years. I can’t wait to show you when you get home.

These were the last words she heard from him. When she got home that night, she found Roger collapsed in the kitchen. The massive heart attack gave him no chance.

The mentioned surprise was forgotten amidst the tragedy, until now. Martha spent the evening researching the address. It was in a quiet, residential neighborhood, about forty minutes from downtown.

An area known for its large properties, many of them with extensive gardens and well-preserved older buildings. The next morning she dressed with more care than in recent months. She chose a light blue blouse that Roger always said matched her eyes.

She applied a light lipstick and combed her grey hair, which she usually wore in a severe bun. The car’s GPS guided her hands on the steering wheel, while her mind wandered among possibilities. What could Roger have planned at that address? Knowing him, it could be anything, from a reservation at an exclusive restaurant to tickets for a concert.

Roger was always an incurable romantic, planning surprises even after decades of marriage. As she moved away from the center, the tall buildings gave way to increasingly spaced residences. The streets became treelined, the air seemed cleaner, the pace slower.

A completely different world from the urban environment she was accustomed to. As she turned onto Acacia Street, Martha was immediately enchanted by the beauty of the place. Large trees formed a natural tunnel over the road, their golden autumn leaves creating a spectacle of colors…