One Day Soon (One Day Soon, #1)(66)

“I’ll be fine, Imi,” he excused.

“Your liver is starting to fail, Yoss. You could get an infection—”

“Look, I know you’ve got a job to do, but—”

“This isn’t about my job!” I yelled.

The door opened and the nurse on duty poked her head into the room. “Is everything okay in here?” She looked from Yoss back to me. I tried to calm myself down.

“Everything’s fine. Thank you,” I told the nurse, hoping she didn’t notice how my voice shook.

The door closed again and we sat in silence.

“Look, I know you think I can’t take care of myself. I mean, look at where I’ve gotten myself. But I have some friends I can stay with. They have an apartment and I’m sure they’d let me stay on their couch for a while. I won’t go back to that house if I can help it. I promise to try to find something else,” Yoss placated.

I couldn’t look at him. If I did, I would come undone.

Unravel and fall apart.

It had been years since I felt this pressure in the center of my chest.

A ripping that started somewhere deep down inside.

“And I’ll never see you again, will I?”

It wasn’t a question that really needed answering.

Yoss seemed intent on running away from me just as he done all those years before.

“You and I were only ever temporary, Imi.” Yoss’s voice was thick.

“Is that why you left me that day? Is that why you never came looking for me? Because I was temporary?”

Yoss sighed. “It doesn’t matter. Not now.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I repeated dully.

“Imi, that’s not what I meant—”

“Then what did you mean?”

“You and I could never have stayed together. It wouldn’t have worked,” he finally said.

“That’s bullshit. We loved each other. That’s all that matters—”

“We weren’t some sappy f*cking country song, Imogen! We had nowhere to go! Because the place where we had been sleeping burned down. We lost so much already. Holding onto each other seemed foolish. And I knew I couldn’t give you the life you needed. The one you should have! I was only ever going to be some dirty man’s secret in an alleyway. You saw it! Christ, Imi, I saw your face when you found me! How could I go to bed with you at night knowing the things I’ve had to do keep us fed? I saw the way you looked at me. You loved me, sure. But you were disgusted too.”

“That’s not true!” I argued. But I was lying.

He was right.

I had been disgusted by him. And the choices he continued to make. I had felt betrayed. Hurt. Especially that last day. When he had made so many promises and broke all of them.

“We were going to start over somewhere else, Yoss.”

He rubbed his temples as though he had a headache. “This was never about me. It was always about you. Don’t you see that?”

I was tired of his evasiveness. “If it was all about me, you never would have left! Don’t you understand what it did to me when you never showed up? How a big part of me died that day under the bridge?”

Yoss’s eyes flashed in my direction. Fiery. Alive. It was a relief to see. But it also worried me.

“You went home, Imi! You graduated from high school! You went to college! You got a f*cking job that means something! You have a home! You were married, starting a family. You were doing everything you were supposed to!” He was shouting. I should have cared about the noise we were making. I should have cared that others could have heard us.

But we were finally making headway. Getting somewhere.

I took a step forward, invading his personal space. Our faces were only inches apart. We were both breathing heavily, our cheeks flushed. I met his gaze and leveled him with the cold, hard truth. The one he seemed to be evading.

“I should have been doing those things with you.”

Yoss shook his head. “We were only together for six months—”

“Six months that might as well have been sixty years. Time is inconsequential given what we were to each other. Or was I mistaken? Was I the only one feeling the things that I did? Was it all a lie, Yoss?” I asked, barely above a whisper.

He closed his eyes, his energy draining. He sat down heavily on the bed, his elbows on his knees, gripping his head in his hands. “No. It wasn’t a lie,” he said, as if the words were wrenched out of him.

That’s all I needed to hear.

I sat down beside him, close, but not touching. “Don’t leave, Yoss. Not yet. Promise me.”

“Imogen, I can’t stay here. I’m crawling out of my skin. The smell. The sounds. It’s driving me crazy.” He dropped his hands so that they dangled between his knees. His shoulders were slumped. He looked tired. Exhausted.

“Not yet, Yoss. Please. Let me figure something out for you.” Our eyes met. They held. They clung. Fire sparked and ignited.

And burned his resistance to the ground.

“Not yet,” he agreed.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”



I had no plan.

Yoss wouldn’t go to a shelter. There were minimal funds for other accommodation. I spent all afternoon on the phone talking to social services, churches, and community boards. Anyone who could help Yoss.