The Cost of Love Five years ago, Ava stood at the altar, wearing a white gown and a hopeful smile, ready to begin a new life with the man she thought would love her forever. But tonight, instead of flowers and champagne, her kitchen table held a cold, cruel surprise — a spreadsheet. A document that calculated, down to the last dollar, the supposed “cost” of her love. “There’s something important I need to talk about,” her husband Daniel said in a tense voice. Ava’s excitement for their anniversary night

I spent 14 long years working and saving every penny to buy my dream house. It wasn’t easy. There were nights I went to bed hungry because I had to choose between eating or putting money into savings. But I kept going. And when I finally held the keys in my hand, I thought it was going to be the happiest moment of my life. I’m Kevin, I’m 32, and until a couple of months ago, the biggest thing I owned was a beat-up old Honda Civic. But that changed

When I placed a cheerful little gnome on my lawn, I had no idea it would start a full-on war with my neighbor Josh—the grumpiest, most superstition-obsessed man on the block. But the moment he gave me that angry glare and muttered a threat, I knew the line had been drawn—right between my blooming rose bushes and his perfectly trimmed hedges. It was a quiet, golden morning. The sun was just waking up, and the soft grass was still wet from the night’s dew. I walked barefoot across the lawn,