We had to leave immediately.
The invisible hand of regret had a grip on my gut. Squeezing. Choking. Working its way up to my throat where a lump had already formed as I fought back tears.
Then, a gentle hand on my knee. A finger, underneath my chin, lifting my face towards the sun once again.
"Let's just look at it."
I inhaled slowly, deeply. Then a sigh escaped my lips. "But, I'm just going to be heartbroken again."
His hand moved swiftly to grip my own. A slight tug.
"Only one look."
I shook off his fingers that were intertwined with mine. I turned and reached for the handle. And, sighed, once again. "Fine. Only for a second."
We walked, side by side, up the concrete drive. I did not want to do this again.
The opening of the door freed the distinct smells from inside. Paint. Lumber. Brand new carpet. With just one step inside, all my tension dissipated. Light streamed through the newly-installed windows. Every sound echoed through the emptiness.
"I love it. But... remember last time?"
I felt a touch on my back. "Don't worry about that now. Do you want it?"
Tears finally escaped my eyes. "Of course I do. But we felt that way last time. We were sent away."
"But, look!" he exclaimed, shoving a flyer in my hand. I saw the numbers emblazoned across the top.
I could not believe my eyes. "But... the price!"
He flashed me a toothy grin. "Yeah. So, do you want it?"
And that's when we realized. We were already home.
- - -
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"This week, we gave you the beginning and the end of the story – sometimes the very places we get stuck – and asked you only to come up with the middle. You were to start your piece with We had to leave immediately and end it with And then we realized we were already home."