One Day Soon (One Day Soon, #1)(116)

We let out a breath together.

Our hearts pumping madly.

I felt his tears on my face. I didn’t wipe them away.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you,” I whispered.



Time moved so slowly. Languid and easy we curled in on each other, finally finding a peace that had evaded us for too long.

We had been tiptoeing to this point. Scared and unsure. Hesitant and overanxious. But when we made the leap it was worth it.

All the misguided heartache. The roller coaster of emotions. The anger. The worry. The grief.

We were here. In our magical moment, living the story we had written.

“I want a family with you. I want a house full of children and holidays at the ocean,” Yoss said tiredly, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my naked back.

My eyes burned at his words. “I wish I could give that to you.”

We both knew it wasn’t possible.

We’d never have a child. It wasn’t in the cards for us. A dream that died before it could ever be realized.

“You can, Imi,” he said. “We can adopt. We can give a child with as shitty an upbringing as we had a real chance in life. A chance I never had.” I kissed his chin, loving his heart. His kind, perfect heart.

“I want that with you. But—” he paused.

Then in a flurry of movement he rolled me onto my back and leaned over me, his hair falling into his eyes. “But if I can’t have that dream with you, will you live it anyway?” he asked.

“What are you saying, Yoss?” Tears slid from the corners of my eyes, dripping into my hair.

He leaned down and kissed the salty trails. Drinking my tears. One at a time. “I’m saying that you deserve a family. I want you to have a full, happy life. Even if I’m not sharing it with you. It’s what I wanted for you that day under the bridge and it’s what I want for you now.” He kissed the side of my neck. “Only this time, no broken promises.” He laid his ear against my chest, listening for the beating that was only for him. “Can you give that to me? A promise to go on? Not just half living, but living to the fullest.”

The sweat had cooled. Yoss was weak. So weak. I heard it in the cadence of his tone. The heaviness of his limbs.

I was sleepy, but I wouldn’t close my eyes. I didn’t want to miss a single moment with him.

“I can promise to live the life we are supposed to have,” I fought. I argued.

Yoss lifted his head long enough to place a soft, sweet kiss over my heart. “Even if I’m not here,” he urged.

I wouldn’t cry. I couldn’t do that to him. I didn’t want to smother him in my tears when he needed my strength. I held him tight. So tight.

“Even if you’re not here,” I said.

I promised.

I hoped that it was one I’d never have to keep.





Fifteen Years Ago

I went back to the bridge.

I wasn’t sure why I still waited for him.

After what I saw.

After the lie.

“I’d give you whatever you asked for. I want to remember what it feels like not to be ashamed. Not to feel sick inside. To be able to love without guilt and regret.”

I loved him.

I had told him it was without condition. So I wouldn’t leave. Even if my soul was in shambles. My trust in tatters.

Our love would have to sustain me.

So I waited.

In the rain.

In the cold.

For the boy who had promised me a future.

I learned that day that to love someone was to hurt.

And I was tired of the pain.





Present

I woke up the next morning and I knew something was wrong. I rolled onto my side and put my hand on Yoss’s bare chest.

I waited for the rise and fall.

Up. Down. Up. Down.

I watched his face. He seemed to be asleep. His arm still wrapped around me. Holding me tight. Holding me close.

I couldn’t look away. Even though I had to get ready for work. I was scared to leave him.

Something isn’t right.

Once again a thin line of blood slowly dripped from his nose. It slid down his cheek and landed on the pillow beneath his head.

His color was worse this morning. The yellowish hue more pronounced.

“Yoss,” I said quietly, shaking his arm.

He was still. Too still.

But for the rise and fall of his chest.

Up. Down. Up. Down.

The blood didn’t have a chance to dry on his face. It continued to flow.

“Yoss,” I said a little louder.

I knew.

I knew.

“Yoss!”

The scream tore from somewhere deep inside of me. From the part of me that had only just come out of the dark.

No.

He didn’t open his eyes.

I knew.



I called nine-one-one. Yoss was rushed to the hospital. Again.

“He has cerebral edema. He’s in a coma from the intracranial pressure. He needs a transplant and needs one fast,” Dr. Howell told me.

“Will he get one?” I asked, not caring how panicked I sounded. Hysterical. I was going to lose it.

“He’s been pushed up on the list. We’re waiting to see if one becomes available. For now we wait. We keep him here. And if you’re the praying sort, do that too,” Dr. Howell said kindly, clasping my shoulder.