Meeting Her

LAYTON

Marissa’s house was a small, single family home in the suburbs. It was exactly what I might have expected from her, with bay windows and colorful flower pots on the front porch. There were wind chimes hanging from the roof over three steps leading up to the front door.

The front yard was small, but well cared for. The weather was getting warmer and some of her plants were starting to come alive again after the miserable winter.

I parked in her driveway, gravel crunching beneath my tires. Before I got out of my car, I took a deep breath and gripped my steering wheel so hard my knuckles went white. I was more nervous than I expected to be.

Meeting Marissa’s daughter was a big step for us to take, even if we weren’t telling her exactly what was going on between us. It was a step I wanted to take with her, and I didn’t regret asking, but it was dawning on me that this was the biggest step I’d taken in any relationship. Ever.

Sweat broke out on my brow and I wiped it off, willing my