The loft.

Marlissa looked over her shoulder to the back of the Jeep filled with suitcases and shopping bags. "I think we should go to your loft to drop off our clothes."

Ryan agreed. Leaving thousands of dollars of designer skirts, dresses, blouses, lingerie, and shoes in a car at night in New York would not be a good idea. He continued down FDR Drive until they reached East Houston Street.

"You live in SoHo? I lived here the last time I was summoned," Marlissa exclaimed as Ryan navigated through the tight streets of the trendy Lower Manhattan neighborhood. Marlissa marvelled that the buildings were no longer in disrepair but now had upscale fashion boutique storefronts. Ryan managed to find a parking spot in front of a white 19th-century cast-iron building common in the historic district.

Ryan got out of the car and chivalrously opened the door for his new bride. He fumbled for the key to the front double-doors before opening it for Marlissa. "Wait here and I'll bring the bags in." She waited in the freight elevator as he loaded the lift with her suitcases.

"You'll have to excuse the mess. It's been a several weeks since I was here last," Ryan said as he closed the heavy freight elevator doors and hit the button for the fifth floor. The elevator reached the top and Ryan pulled the door open to reveal a cavernous brick loft with minimal furniture amongst the bookshelves and tables littered with research papers, maps, and notebooks. Marlissa let out a cry of surprise and delight when Ryan lifted her off her feet and into his arms, carrying her out of the elevator. "I guess it's tradition to carry my new bride into the homestead."

"It's beautiful," Marlissa said, curiously examining the view of the street through the floor-to-ceiling windows as Ryan rolled the suitcases into the loft. "You should live here more often."

"I prefer travelling to remote places to find dead civilizations," Ryan replied. "Besides, it gets lonely by myself in this big open loft."

"But you have me now," she said, kissing him on the cheek.

"I guess we should take your suitcases to my... I mean, our bedroom." Marlissa grabbed a suitcase and followed her husband to the bedroom, which with the bathroom were the only rooms in the open-space concept loft. The bedroom was sparse -- a iron wrought bed and a dresser. It was apparent that Ryan lived by his duffel bag.

"This place definitely needs a woman's touch," Marlissa noted, looking around the spartan bedroom.

"Well, it's been a long time since a woman has been here," Ryan muttered.

"But you have me now," Marlissa reminded, kissing Ryan on the lips.

"Should we call my parents tonight?" Ryan asked, looking at his watch. "Since it's past eight, we can always meet them tomorrow morning at the university and order out?"