Daily Story
Someday, we'll get married.
It was a joke, she could tell the minute he said it that it was an off hand comment, not meant to be taken seriously. But in that one moment, right between when he said that, and she processed the lightness that came with it, Stephanie saw what a life married to Nathan could be like.
They'd go to Louisiana as soon as they could, even though he was only twenty three, and she was even younger, merely twenty. He said he had a job there, as a bartender.
They'd live in a little apartment just outside the french quarter, in the apartment building where she worked as a receptionist, a far cry from her dazzling dreams of Hollywood. But the job would give her plenty of time to walk around the city and find inspiration for stories, which she would churn out with an alarmingly fast consistency.
He'd manage the restaurant down the street, a far, far cry from his dreams of a life behind a camera. But the life in the restaurant would provide him with directoral opportunities.
They would have access to the roof of their building, where they could look over the city that had so quickly become their home, and simply be among the greenery of their own eden.
Giving up a dream never seemed like so much fun.
But, of course, he was joking. So the fantasy would only be lived out in Stephanie's head.