Nina
The whisper of the wind and the distant hum of the campus came as a backdrop to our conversation. Enzo and I were sitting on the steps of our university dorm, a stack of housing catalogs spread out around us, dog-eared and underlined with no luck.
Enzo ran a hand through his hair, frustration clear in his furrowed brows. “Nina, none of these places feel right. They're not...us.”
I looked at the houses in the brochures, all perfectly manicured lawns and cookie-cutter designs, and I had to agree with him. There was nothing that I hated more than a white picket fence and a perfectly mowed back lawn.
For the past couple of weeks, we had been house hunting almost nonstop. Neither of us wanted to continue living in our campus dorms once we were married. We craved the true privacy of a h
