At a stop sign, we pull up next to Little Elm, where a large ‘available for rent’ sign is taped to the dusty window of the neighboring shop. As soon as she glances at it, I can see the wheels turning in her head.
“Huh, looks like the music center moved,” I say, pretending to be only semi-interested for the sake of getting her to open up about it.
She looks over at me with an amused smile. “I know what you’re doing.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lie, staring straight ahead so she can’t see the bullshit in my eyes. “Just eyeing prime locations, in the off chance anyone I know wants to open a new business.”
Mulling it over, she finally replies, “I’m thinking about it. I just don’t know if I have the guts to pull the trigger. Someday, maybe.”
“You’ve already been thinking about it. That means it’s not just a ‘someday’ idea, it’s a ‘right now’ possibility. What’s stopping you from going for it?”
“Those TED Talks really are rubbing off on you.” Her thumb drums lightly against the passenger side door asshe thinks. “But in all seriousness, I guess the only thing stopping me is myself and my worry of failing.”
“We all believe in you. The only thing left is for you to believe in yourself too.”
She laces her fingers through mine and gives a gentle squeeze. “Thank you.”
I bring her hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to the soft skin of her knuckles. As we leave the last street of downtown behind, the world shifts around us. The buildings and businesses fade away, replaced by the quiet expanse of a deserted country road.
From beside me, she uses her phone GPS to pinpoint the address. We pass a sprawling sunflower field, and a horse ranch with Clydesdales bigger than my SUV. With views like this, there’s no doubt that this place will be perfect for her. It’s a bittersweet feeling. More than anything I want her to stay with me. But I need to count my blessings that at least we’ll be in the same county.
After a few more minutes, we turn onto a dirt road leading to the several acres long property that the tiny home is located on. Our bodies bounce in the seats as we coast along the uneven gravel. A large cattle dog comes bounding toward our car, happily running alongside to greet us the moment we step out.
The property is breathtaking, with the rolling hills that nearly seem to reach the sky. An acre out from the main house lies the tiny home. With clean lines and horizontal wooden siding, the place looks modern with a rustic charm.
The owner, Jonathan, greets us in the driveway. Hisleathery tan skin, dusty well-worn boots, and flannel shirt give him the look of someone who’s spent the majority of their life working the land. He unlocks the mahogany front door, and gestures inside, to let us take a moment to look around without him peering over our shoulder.
The interior is as impressive as the exterior. Real wood floors, floor-to-ceiling windows with a view people would pay good money for. Of course, it’s small—narrow hallways, an even narrower staircase leading up to a loft bed. But for one or two people, it’s perfect.
I know it, and she knows it.
“I had no idea tiny homes could look likethis,” I say, as we look into the bathroom. The walls are entirely lined with white subway tiles, and there’s even enough room for a full shower-tub combination.
“Seriously. The pictures don’t even do it justice,” she responds.
“To be fair, they probably could barely fit a camera in here.”
We both glance around with wide eyes. But I notice there’s a shift in her demeanor, and a cautiousness that wasn’t there five minutes ago.
“So, what do you think? How are you feeling about it?” I ask.
“It’s nice,” she replies, biting her bottom lip. “Really nice.”
There’s more to it though. I can sense it.
“Nice enough to make you want to live here?”
Bracing herself with her hands on the counter, she finally turns to look at me. Here it comes, all thosethoughts that usually stay bottled up in her mind that I have the privilege of being trusted with.
She shrugs. “I hate it.”
Her bluntness causes a laugh to burst out of me. I’m secretly thrilled, because that means having her at my house for a while longer.
Walking up beside her, I hug her close to my chest. “And what do you hate about it?”
She melts into my touch. “That you’re not going to be in it. The second I walked through the door, it got real…tooreal, that I’d be here, by myself, alone. That feeling of home I’ve found living with you, at your house, vanished. And I don’t want that to go away.”
“Well, I’ve got an easy solution for that. Move in with me? Officially? I know you think it’s wild to do it so early, but who the hell cares. It’s our life.”