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Chapter Ten: Annika

"Before you see the house," he says, pulling over to the side of the road, there will be about 30 minutes to an hour left of sunlight left. We got to hurry before it's too dark. I want our home to feel like my home. I want that trigger. I'll give anything for it. "I want you to see a before picture first."

"We remodeled?"

"We bought a fixer-upper three years ago. Before we moved in, we fixed all the exterior and grounds. We finished the inside within a year of moving in." That means his mom saw it. She walked through the halls. Sat on our couch. I ate in our dining room. He hands me my iPad again. "This is just a picture of the front."

A blue, old, two-story house fills the screen. Spanish moss-covered oak trees surround it. "I love it." It has good bones. I like blue, but this blue is too dark. It needs to be a brighter happy color. A long porch extended across the front. The lot is perfect; it's beautifully manicured. I can picture us outside on a Saturday, working on it together. Silas is mowing the lawn while I weed.

"Ready to see it?" I nod eagerly. He pulls into the drive.

The house is river rock and sage green stucco—dark tope brown shutters and door. Cream trim, porch railing, and furniture. "Oh, my God!" It's perfect; it's home.

"You like it?" He asks nervously.

"I love it so much! I get to live here?" I'm glad I work from home. This is beautiful. The house, the lot, just everything. I love oak trees that are covered in Spanish moss, one of my favorite parts about living in St. Augustine, and the canopy around the whole property. "How could we afford this so young? It's huge!"

"Each of your books sells millions of copies worldwide."

"We're rich?" He shrugs, nodding. "How many bedrooms and bathrooms?"

"It's six bedrooms. Four and a half baths." Why do we need so much room?

Oh... right. We were probably thinking about future kids. This is my own forever home.

"Let's walk around the outside while we still have light." He guides me down the driveway on the right side of the house. I run my fingers over the sage stucco. Bleeding hearts line this side of the house. There is a chimney covered in river rock. A Dutch door that I'm sure leads into the kitchen, to the right of the chimney.

The back yards trees are covered in round lights. "Those are on a timer. They turn on at 6:00 PM and off at 11:00 PM."

I have the cutest house ever. The back porch extends across the entire back. It is creamy and furnished like the front porch. It's well-lit with twinkly lights. There are two bay windows—one on either side of a set of French doors. There is a detached garage that the driveway leads to. On the opposite side of the yard is a large garden box.

There is a fire pit with log seats around it. A spiral staircase extends from a balcony on the second floor and lands on the porch. There are so many trees, keeping it private from neighbors. Two peony bushes sit on the left side of the property. One looks freshly planted, a little smaller than the other. The whole lot is well taken care of. Flowers and life surround me. 

"We have the best house ever." As we turn the corner, I see a greenhouse pressed against the greenhouse. I look inside.

"This is our formal dining room." It has a long dark wood table with eight matching chairs around it. The table is set. It looks so elegant. They are so grown up. Plants are around the room. The floors are more river rock.

"I love everything about this house."

"I'm so glad you do." He takes my hand and guides me to the front porch.