The first 22 years of my life have been a frantic race for this day. I dreamed of it as a girl, talked about it endlessly it as an adolescent, and after I met him, started planning it in secret.
The car stops in front of our new address, a gorgeous showstopper of a home. I stand in our mostly empty living room, my heart slowly falling into my belly as my new husband tromps up the stairs. The decades in front us stretch endlessly into the unknown as I slide to the floor. What happens now?
The six sentence story prompt this week is Address.