Page 69 of Someday Not Soon

Snatching my laptop from its charging cord, I rush to type out an email to my supervisor, letting her know I’m quitting and using the rest of my vacation to cover my two weeks notice. It’s a dick move, especially after coming back from bereavement leave. There will most definitely be steam coming out of her ears come tomorrow morning. But before I can second guess it, and retype it forty-two different ways, I tap send.

And just like that, the damage is done. The first trigger pulled to jumpstart the rest of my life.

My nerves are overridden with an overwhelming thrill and excitement coursing through me instead. I’m in awe that I’m going through with this. Crazy? Absolutely. Certain I’m making a good, rash, life choice? We’ll see. But I’ve got a good gut feeling.

With the apartment manager in the office for only an hour more, I sprint over to try and convince him to let me break my lease early.

I’m pissing people off left and right, but I’ve never been less worried. Apparently, I’m in my villain era, throwing around the word “no” like confetti at a parade.

I’ve got the ball rolling at record speed. There’s no official deadline for moving back to my hometown, but it feels like I’m racing against the clock. After spending so long living for others, the urgency to finally start living for myself is impossible to ignore.

Two hours later, my well-worn couch and most of the furniture is listed on a free giveaway site. A stack of moving boxes taller than myself are acquired, and reality starts to creep in that I’m doing this.

I’ve never been one for change. It’s a hardwired part of myself that resists it like it will do me harm. This change is different though. I’d be lying if I said a tiny seed of insecurity isn’t in the back of my mind. Yet none of those tiny seeds can trump the sense of peace that settles over me when I think of the possibility of whatcouldhappen. What if I move, and I’m happier than ever? Even if Jude and I don’t work out, I’ll still have my best friends, who have always been more like my family. What if I open a Pilates studio, and it flourishes? Even if it doesn’t, I can find another job and at least say I tried.

Anypossible worst case scenario is still better than the present.

I refuse to sit back and let life pass by. After being stagnant for years, I’m ready to be greedy and take what I want. And being with Jude, not hundreds of miles apart, is exactly what I want in life right now.

All that’s left is to tell him.

It’s midnight when I tape up another moving box crammed with random clothes and junk. It’s bursting at the seams, the edges of the cardboard protruding. I’ve been trying to conserve boxes by filling each one to the brim. At this rate, I should be finished in two days. I still need to find a place to live back in Lawson, but with the money left from my parents’ home after paying off their debts, I should be able to comfortably afford to purchase a small condo or house.

My arms and back are aching when I finally decide to call it a night. My mind and body feel like a bowl of jello from the amount of exertion and brain cells I’ve used in the span of the last six hours. If today has taught me anything, it’s that spontaneous life-changing decisions are not for the weak of mind or body.

Checking my phone, I see I’ve missed two calls from Jude. With my phone on silent amongst all the packing chaos, I haven’t even called him to tell him I’m moving back. I’ve toyed with the idea of keeping my arrival a surprise, imagining the look on his face when he sees me standing there.

Collapsing into a tired mess on the couch, I tap his contact to call him. It goes straight to a pre-recorded voicemail. It’s eleven o’clock and he’s a grandpa trapped in a sexy, mid-thirties body. By this hour, his History channel programming has ended, he has enjoyed his nightly cup of chamomile tea, and is now probably fast asleep on his ergonomic pillow.

With all the lights still on in the apartment, my eyelids grow heavy. I come to the conclusion that I’d rather sleep with brightness blasting in my face than have to move from this very spot. I drift off into a light sleep, until a knock rings out on the front door. My eyes fly open, and I freeze into a curled up ball.

Fuck.

I check my phone. It’s one in the morning. No one comes over at this hour—besides criminals or poltergeists. Either way there’s zero fucking chance I’m opening that door. But the knock rasps again—soft and gentle. Not at all like how someone would try to break in.

Crawling to the front door on my hands and knees to look through the peephole, I hear it—his voice.

“Ella, it’s me. Jude.”

Flinging the door open, the sight of him is like seeing the sun after being locked up for years. He stands under the dim light of the porch sconce, a black duffel in one hand and a wide smile on his face. I jump into his arms, in ecstatic relief to see him here, in the flesh, on my front mat.

Realizing we’re probably waking up all my surrounding neighbors, I place my feet back onto solid ground and grab his wrist, pulling him into the entryway and clicking the door shut.

I thought I would be the one to surprise him. I even had a whole elegant speech planned in my head. But here he is first—tall, broad, and standing in my apartment. With one arm around my waist, hugging me close to his chest, he inspects the mess around him. His bloodpressure probably spiking as he takes in this disaster zone, which is a harsh contrast to the cleanliness of his own home.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice muffled by the muscle of his chest.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this,” he replies. “But I decided something.”

“And what’s that?” I turn my head to take in what he’s currently seeing. A half empty living room, with a scattering of boxes and packing material strewn about. Clothes, toiletries, and knickknacks separated into piles on the floor. My hair, messy and thrown up into a bun, not a lick of makeup on my face.

Cradling my jaw in his hands, he turns my face to look at him. “That we’re not going to live apart. I’ve waited to be with you for ten years. There’s no chance in hell I’m going to fuck it up now. I know wecoulddo this long-distance. But I really don’t want to. We’ve missed enough days together as it is. All I want, every single day for the rest of my life, is to hold you like this every morning and every night. To feel your lips on mine as often as I can. I don’t want to talk to some screen while we’re both half asleep every evening. I want this. I want you.”

My mouth pops open to respond, but his thumb brushes over my lips, gently silencing me. “You don’t have to give up your life here for me, El. I’ll quit my job and move to Washington. I’ll do anything. As long as I’m with you, I’ll be happy.You’remy home. Wherever you are is where I belong too.”

My eyes well with tears as I take a shaky inhale. He’s willing to give up everything forme.

“That’s all I want too.” I lift my arm to the side, motioning it toward the living room full of boxes. “It’s why I’m moving—back to Lawson. To be with you.”

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