I didn't want to tell her the news. Not yet, anyway. Not while we were sitting together on her father's beaten-down, once-black-now-gray couch, her head nestled against my collar, eyes glued to the TV. I didn't want to spoil the atmosphere, or kill her mood. Not yet. Not now.
My parents had told me that we would be moving next month. Work-related reasons, they said. Now all I could do was cuddle with my girlfriend and keep the sadness swelling in my gut like rising bread.