Page 59 of Someday Not Soon

He slings his lunch bag over his shoulder and hustles off toward the back door of the hospital. Before hedisappears inside, he turns and shouts, “Don’t mess this up, son.”

It’s evident to myself that Idowant her enough. Hell, I want to be with her more than I’ve ever wanted anything. Seeing her again, being with her, has only solidified that feeling.

Ella and I are both cautious people. Neither of us ever take a risk if we know the odds are stacked against us. A long distance relationship, only after being around each other for this short amount of time—the odds are definitely high that this wouldn’t work. But there’s this nag in my brain that knows it will. That we’ve waited all this time, and will fight like hell to keep it.

Now I’ve just got to convince her.

After a quick shower and a power nap, I head over to Ella’s to pick her up. She mentioned texting when I arrived, but I’m not the type to sit in my car like some frat boy douche honking the horn. I’m knocking, and I’m definitely going to open the car door later for her too.

She answers, peeking around the edge of the door. “Shit. I’m not ready yet. Do you want to come in or wait in your car?”

“I’ll come in. No rush,” I say, stepping inside as she opens the door wider. The house feels hollow compared to what it once was. It’s completely empty, except for a pink water thermos on the counter and a pair of sandals by the door.

“I still have to grab a few things. You can follow me,” she instructs.

I trail behind her, taking in the barren, almost sterile atmosphere of the house.

In the guest room, she tosses an empty bag onto the bed and starts filling it with sunscreen, a hat, sunglasses, and other essentials for our day. My eyes drift to the small foldout bed that I had attempted to secretly purchase for her. It’s decent, but imagining her sleeping on it night after night makes my chest tighten. She deserves more than some fucking makeshift setup like this. She needs a real bed, a real home, somewhere she can actually live, not just exist.

On the windowsill, I spot a Lawson Police Department business card with a report number written in the corner. I know it’s none of my business, but she feels like sheismy business and I can’t help but ask.

I nod toward the card. “Is everything okay? Did you have to contact the police for something?”

She freezes mid-packing and looks at me. “Yeah. Last night…there was an incident.”

A protective storm rolls through, making me see red. I keep my voice soft. “What kind of incident?”

“I heard someone out the window in the middle of the night. I think maybe they were casing the house or looking to break in.”

I want to personally hunt down those motherfuckers and teach them a lesson. But I can’t let that rage seep through right now. What needs to happen is being there for her. “Did the police find them?”

“No. I think they ran when they saw me turn a light on in the house. The police took a report, so we’ll see. I’m not sure what else they can do.”

“El—you shouldn’t stay here alone.”

“I only have two weeks left,” she says, biting her lip.

“What if they come back? There’s all those inspection people coming in and out, and a huge sold sign on display in the front yard. They’re assuming the house is empty and it’s an easy spot to target. Either I’m sleeping here or you can come stay at my place.”

She studies me for several seconds before speaking again. “I don’t want to intrude on your life.”

“You’d never be intruding. I’m not going to force you, but if you want to stay the night, or fourteen nights, or however long you want, my home is your home.”

She bites her bottom lip again, clearly weighing the offer. After a minute, she exhales, the hesitation in her eyes dissolving like sugar in water. “Okay. If you’reabsolutelysure you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind. I think we’ll both sleep a lot better at night knowing you’re safe.”

She looks up at me, studying my face with the most angelic expression in her eyes. “I’ve never had someone care about my wellbeing the way you do.”

It’s like a dagger to my heart. This literal angel of a woman never having the safeguard of having someone look out for her. “All I want is to make sure you’re okay. I protect the people I care about. And you matter to me.”

My words hang between us as she comes to terms with what I’ve said. Releasing a breath, she pulls her shouldersback and nods. “Okay. Let me grab my suitcase. At least there’s not much to pack.”

I watch her load her hard-shell suitcase, crammed so full that the zipper struggles to close. I love the sight of it. With my offer, I was worried she’d pack enough for only one night. But the truth is, I hope she never leaves. Call me crazy, but I’d permanently move in with her right now if I got the chance. There’s something that courses through your veins and awakens every nerve when you realize the entire future you want is standing right there before you.

Wheeling her luggage out of the house, I pack it into my vehicle with a sigh of relief. No more worrying about her in that dark, empty house.

From there, the drive to the beach feels like a scene from a dream. As the two-lane highway winds its way through the golden hills, the landscape shifts—native ice plants in shades of green giving way to vibrant orange poppies, their colors dancing in the sun. We roll down the windows, letting the salty breeze tangle in our hair while our favorite nineties grunge blares from the speakers.

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