One Day Soon (One Day Soon, #1)(36)

My happy ending was Yoss.

Yoss’s happy ending was me.

So I gave him the story I wished we had. The one that was full of fantasy. Improbable. Unrealistic. But there was truth in it as well.

The best kind.

“Once upon a time there was a girl from a happy family. She was loved and adored and never wanted for anything. She spent her days surrounded by friends and family. She smiled all the time, never having a reason to cry.” Yoss squeezed my hand and I took a deep breath.

“One day she met a boy who was just as happy. And together they realized how wonderful life could be. He wanted to take care of her. She wanted to stay by his side.” Yoss rested his chin on top of my head, and I leaned into him.

So close.

The closest yet.

“The girl had never been to the beach.”

“Neither had the boy,” Yoss added in a whisper, his lips moving against my hair.

“They decided to run away to the shore. Where they could dip their toes in the water and walk on the sand. Because everything was always better when they were together.”

“Did they live happily ever after? On the beach? Always together?” Yoss asked, his voice breaking.

I couldn’t look up at him because I knew what I’d see.

And I wasn’t prepared to see his doubt.

“Of course they did. Always together,” I murmured, shivering as the sun disappeared.

Yoss ran his thumb along the inside of my wrist. Slowly. Carefully. “We’ll walk on the beach, Imi, and we’ll dance on the sand. Because one day soon, I promise you that all this ugly will become something beautiful.” Did he believe that? How could he given where he spent his day? Where he sometimes spent his nights? How could he afford to dream the impossible?

But I wanted to dream with him.

I had to.

“I know, Yoss. One day soon,” I agreed.

We stayed like that for a long time, neither of us moving. I wasn’t sure if it was out of fear. Or out of contentment.

Whatever it was, it kept us still.

Lost in dreams neither of us really believed would ever come true.





Present Day

“Good morning, you’re looking a little better this morning,” I said brightly, walking into Yoss’s room with my laptop bag and a smile on my face.

“And you’re full of shit,” he chuckled, struggling to sit up.

“Let me help you,” I said quickly, hurrying to his side.

“I’m fine. You don’t need to do anything,” Yoss snapped, freezing me with his cold, cold voice. My hands, which had been poised ready to readjust his pillows, dropped back to my sides and I took a step back.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

“Why are you here?” he asked gruffly and I wanted to scowl at him.

Just last night he had asked me to stay.

I held his hand until he had fallen asleep.

It was the happiest I could remember being in a long time.

Last night he had let down his walls long enough for me to see him. The Yoss Frazier I remembered. And I had missed him—missed us—so much.

Apparently a good night’s sleep resurrected his need to keep me at arm’s length.

He was about to become reacquainted with my stubborn side.

“I’m your caseworker, remember?” I reminded him, sitting down, hands on top of my bag.

“And what does my caseworker need to grill me about today? I would have thought I gave you enough of my depressing story yesterday,” he remarked shortly, scratching at the healing stitches on his arm.

“I spoke with Dr. Howell, he said the results of your liver function test should be ready by this afternoon. Then you will know your options for treatment,” I told him.

“Yeah. Treatment,” he responded dully.

“I’ve also made some calls and there are a couple of beds open at the Salvation Army—”

“I’m not staying in a shelter, Imogen,” he interrupted.

“You have nowhere to go,” I argued.

“I’ll find somewhere. I always do. But I won’t go to the Salvation Army,” he said emphatically.

“I think you’re being unreasonable, Yoss. You can be safe there—”

“I was stabbed in the leg and the back of the hand at the Salvation Army a few years ago. All because some meth head wanted my bag of Doritos. I think you overestimate the safety there,” he remarked harshly.

That explained the scar on his hand that I had noticed yesterday.

“Oh. I had no idea—”

“It’s okay, Imi. You didn’t know,” Yoss said, his face smoothing out. Green eyes less frigid.

I had always done my job well. I knew how to be supportive, understanding. But I was having a hard time calling up those qualities that had served me so well in the past.

I wanted to help Yoss, but it was hard when our history smacked me in the face every time I saw him.

“Maybe we should talk about making a plan—”

Yoss snorted and I raised an eyebrow. “I seem to remember being the one to tell you the same thing a long time ago,” he mused and I couldn’t help but smile.

“You told me to figure out a plan. You made me promise.”

“I’m glad you kept it,” he said.